Darkniciad

This is a short one that just popped into my head. Once again, the butt of the joke is Meckataur the Destroyer. He was in human disguise, having journeyed into the past via a magic portal in an attempt to discover information about the Devil that had stripped his humanity. Meckataur had fully accepted his new form, but Belasco ( Yes, lifted from Marvel Comics ) was still a thorn in his side. In the process of trying to uncover information, he happened across a shopkeeper who was not only unhelpful, but downright rude and obnoxious. One of the conditions of the magic that had sent Meckataur back was that any attempt to cause physical harm to another being would instantly send him back to the present, thus wasting a vast expenditure of resources. So, the all-powerful murderous demon was forced to keep his instincts in check and deal with the asshole. Eventually -- after having to give up a large amount of coin and a few other minor things -- he got the information he needed. Before moving on to the next contact and completing his mission in the past, my player took great pains to discover the name of the rude and annoying shopkeeper, as well as any other information possible. He wrote the name rather prominently on the pocket of his character sheet folder, so as not to forget it. Quest complete and information in hand, Meckataur returned to the present. He didn't act on that information immediately, though. Meckataur the Destroyer had a far more important task to complete. Returned to his true form and in a murderous rage, he focused his lackeys and every resource on finding the descendants of the rude shopkeeper. The man himself had surely died, as it was in excess of 200 years later, but Meckataur was determined to wipe out every root, seed, and branch of the man's line in retribution for the treatment he'd been forced to endure. I strung him along, watching him waste resources and game time on his obsession. Time and time again, all the magical might at his disposal failed to produce even a single heir to the rude shopkeeper. Several of my other players had already caught on to the joke, but remained silent. Meckataur wasn't only a threat to the game world and a dungeon master's nightmare, he was equally worrisome to the other players. So, they were perfectly content to watch him fume and flail about in Nightmare Castle, accomplishing nothing. It was close to a month later when my player was sitting at the table, still pissed and accusing me of fudging die rolls to keep him from accomplishing his goal when it finally hit him. He stared at the name he'd scrawled in black permanent marker on the pocket of his character sheet folder -- eyes hardening -- and then let out a growling roar worthy of Meckataur himself before hurling the folder across the room and stomping out the door. As we all laughed our assess off, his folder lay on the floor, open and displaying his folly to all the world. The name written there was... Wadsworth Nuthing.

Odds are that I'm going to get the initial database population completed some time this week ( on vacation ) and launch "My Worlds" There are a couple of new things coming to the Reject Reality subsite in the near future as well. The first will be a mailing list option for those stories, and the second will be a short story section with exclusive tales, similar to my shorts page as Dark and Les. That one would have launched already, but the first story I had planned for it expanded enough that I felt it deserved a full story site release ( Jerk Pt. 2 ) All the coding is done, so it's just waiting for a launch story now. Probably going to expand my story codes with a few things I keep thinking that should be there. If that happens, I'll update all the appropriate stories in the database.

Do keep in mind that I'm willing to make plain text covers for Kindle versions of my stories, if requested. Also willing to convert and upload other formats. Odds are that anything outside the standard offerings will be by-request only, but once I create something, it will be put up for everyone to download if they choose. Feel free to offer feedback and point out any goofs in the text as well. I'm not completely reading back through these before converting them and doing only the most minor editing on a few of them. I could be missing a few things that happen during the conversion process as well. Do you prefer the whitespace between paragraphs on Kindle versions, or would you rather see it removed? Sing out about anything, and I'll see what I can do about fulfilling requests.

Didn't post a preview of 9 for the same reason I'm not posting a preview of 10 - don't want to give anything away Hope everyone has enjoyed the ride! The final chapter should be out on Tuesday.

Here's a quick preview of the upcoming exclusive web short, "Breakin' in the Boy" ===================== Matthias brandished his sword, showing no sign of concern that he was down a point to his father in their sparring match. He had just scored a point with a lucky stab, and Christi knew that her son was in trouble. He proved it a moment later when he said, "You look a bit winded, Father. We could always call this a draw, if you’d like." Christi chuckled when she saw her husband’s lips curl into a smile. Yep, he’s in trouble. "Ready, boy?" Mindblind asked, lifting his sword. "Whenever you are." Mindblind led with a vicious slash of the longsword he’d chosen at random from the armory, forcing Matthias back. Having begun his training as soon as he was old enough to hold a dagger, the younger man knew he couldn’t take the force of the blow, and deflected instead. He answered back with a quick slash, but Mindblind easily brought his weapon into position, batting away the sword well short of its mark. As it had three times before, steel rang on steel in the sweet music of battle. Matthias was giving a good accounting of himself, but Christi knew her husband was holding back. She’d already seen three opportunities for him to end the fight, but he was waiting for something. After a spinning disengagement that looked impressive – but left him vulnerable to an attack his father once again ignored – the over-confident young man said, "The offer of a draw still stands, Fa–" Christi winced when Mindblind surged forward, batted Matthias’ sword to the side, and brought his knee up into the younger man’s stomach. Her son crumpled to the ground with the wind knocked out of him, sword falling from his nerveless fingers. Mindblind tapped the flat of his sword on the top of his son’s head and said, "Point." "That..." Matthias began, but then had to take several gasping breaths before he could continue. "Wasn’t fair." "Nothing fair in a fight, boy," Mindblind declared as he held out a hand to help his son up. Matthias turned toward his mother, his eyes full of indignation. Christi shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Your Dad’s right. He could have had you a half dozen times. Don’t look for any sympathy from me. If it had been me, I’d have put my knee right between your legs, and you’d still be cross-eyed." Mindblind chuckled. "If this was real, you’d be dead now, instead of trying to get some air. Come on." Reluctantly, the young man took his father’s hand and stood. "Okay?" Mindblind asked. Matthias nodded. "A fight ain’t a show, and it damn sure ain’t anything with rules. It’s either you or the bastard trying to carve you up. Stop playing around and showing off. We’ve taught you better’n that, Matthias." "That shit your friends are showing you isn’t good for anything but making stupid girls swoon," Christi added. "Start fiddling around and drawing pictures with your sword point like that in a real fight, and somebody’s going to have you stuck before you know it." Finally, the anger in his features drained away, and Matthias nodded. Mindblind gestured toward the armory. "Go put your sword away. Deal’s a deal, and you lost, so get to your chores." "Yes, Father." As the young man walked away, Mindblind leaned his sword against his shoulder and muttered, "Father," with obvious distaste. Christi shrugged. "It’s not that bad, and I’m sure he’ll grow out of it. It’s just all the court manners and trying to pretend he’s grown up." "Dad. Pa. Pops. Anything but Father." "Feeling old?" "Want to go a couple of rounds and find out?" Christi shivered and twitched her eyebrows, eliciting a hungry smile from her husband. Their sparring sessions almost always ended with hot, sweaty sex. Unfortunately, there was no time. "You have to play dress-up in an hour." Mindblind growled, but it was more show than actual irritation. After so long as Duke, he’d grown to at least tolerate the daily necessity of holding court. The thought of sparring – and the aftermath – did remind her of something, though. As she grabbed his hand and led him back to the keep, she said, "Remember the other day when Danica was here?" "Yeah." "The boy was drooling all over her, and it’s becoming a daily thing." "He’s that age." "Yes, and it could turn into a problem." Mindblind grunted. "Probably right. Not much we can do about it, though." "I had an idea about that. I told Danica that we should probably take him into town and turn one of the working girls loose on him." He nodded, understanding the logic. "Get it out of his system, huh?" "And on our terms. Better than knocking up one of the girls from the kitchen," Christi said as she opened the heavy wooden door into the keep. "Alice’s," he suggested. "The girls are clean, and they take potions to keep them from getting knocked up. She’s got this new girl, Jillian. Picky about who she’ll fuck, because she’s in it for the sex more than the coin. Turning into a contest in the barracks to see who she’ll take." "Sounds good to me. When?" "I’ll talk to her after court, and take him after dark. Ain’t talked to Alice since she dropped in before taking over from Samantha at the Nymph." The memory of her husband introducing the busty blonde sent another chill racing up Christi’s spine. "Maybe we could have her come for a longer visit some time, too." "Heh... That’s something I ain’t done with her in years." Unable to resist, she pulled him down into a tongue-wrangling kiss. "I think this is going to work out just fine."

Missed previewing chapter 7 somehow. It was a LONG bloody week at work. I'll correct that by previewing Ch. 08 in a moment. First, I want to mention that the story already has more votes than any other story as Darkniciad on Storiesonline. Less than a handful of stories as Les or RR have more votes there, and many readers don't vote on ongoing stories until they complete. The story is also pulling in numbers that it's taken years for most of my other stories as Dark to slowly acquire. The vote per view ratio is also very smile-inducing, so thanks! And now, here's the preview: ================================== Mindblind stood staring at the wall, fist clenched tight around his sword hilt, and his vision red with rage. He tried to master his emotions, as he’d done all his life, but it was having no effect. After everything – even killing the last of the assassins – he was no closer to discovering who was really behind it all. Behind him, Indigo related what he’d learned from the women locked in the back of the establishment. The assassins had stormed their family farmstead, killing every male, and forcing the women to provide cover during the flight from Draxnog’s wrath. Apparently pleased with the convenience, the guildmaster had kept the women in tow. Since then, they had served to slake the carnal lusts of the guild, and provide a concealing front for the murderers by cooking for the eatery. “There’s more than enough here for them to take this place as their own, or pack up and go home without having to worry about coin for a while,” Raven said. “Blood money,” Indigo said with disdain. Raven countered, “You don’t think they’ve given their share to deserve it?” “True.” Voices raised in anger snapped Mindblind from his state of numb rage, and he spun on the open door, sword at the ready. “Easy,” Raven said before darting past Indigo into the hall. Her battle-ready posture immediately dropped, and she chuckled. “What the hell is it?” Mindblind growled – the first words he’d uttered since finding out that the guildmaster hadn’t written down who had hired him. Raven walked back into the room, still chuckling. “I was wondering what we were going to do with the fat fuck swimming in his own piss out there. Problem solved.” Mindblind finally sheathed his sword and followed Indigo into the hall. The handsome Draxnian muttered something in his own language and froze before Mindblind could see what had caused the commotion. In the hall, one of the women had retrieved a kitchen knife. Her skill at carving meat and vegetables apparently extended to carving human beings as well. She consoled the youngest woman of the group, bloody knife still in hand. Even though he couldn’t understand more than a few words, it was enough for Mindblind to fathom that the fat man had taken the young woman as his own – frequently and violently. “Tell them this place and everything in it is theirs now, as long as they don’t mention that we were here,” Raven said. Indigo nodded and walked toward the women, still looking a little pale. “Except this, of course,” Raven whispered, patting the pocket where she’d stuffed a bag of gemstones. The small, easily concealed sack would have ensured that the guild could quickly relocate and set up shop elsewhere, if necessary. Since they no longer had any use for it, she had appropriated it. When Mindblind barely reacted, she asked, “You okay?” “Fine,” he growled under his breath. “You’ve got to get it together. We need to get back to the Wench. The law is on the take around here, but they can’t completely ignore random bodies. The last thing we want to do is be anywhere near when this all starts coming out.” “Seems like the law’s fucking corrupt everywhere.” “Everything’s corrupt. Rotten to the core. Come on. I need to knock back a few and sleep for a couple days.” Though he nodded as he followed her out, Mindblind doubted that sleep was in his immediate future.

It's that time again, after the surprise day-early posting of Chapter 5 =================================== Around an hour after eating and resuming their journey, Mindblind looked to the horizon to see the end of a pleasant day approaching. The wind turned chill, hitting the wagon and those who walked beside it like an icy hammer. Ahead, a wall of roiling darkness streaked with lightning approached – relentless and inevitable. The wagon rolled to a stop next to Mindblind, and Indigo remarked, “I do not like the look of this weather, my friend.” “That makes two of us,” Mindblind grumbled, scanning the landscape. Some distance off the road stood a small stand of scraggly trees. The amount of lightning he’d already seen dissuaded him of any notion of using the trees for cover. Otherwise, only the brown ribbon of the road broke the monotony of a sea of prairie grass. Breathing heavily, those prostitutes who weren’t currently riding in the wagon found the most comfortable spots they could and sat down to rest. Considering none of them were used to spending much time outside of a bed – let alone walking cross-country – they were keeping up gamely. Turning to Raven, he asked, “Any place we can get out of the weather between here and town?” The dark-haired thief shrugged. “Not that I know of. There’s farmsteads spread out everywhere, but I haven’t seen any in an hour.” Mindblind growled, “Son-of-a-bitch.” The storm looked especially violent, even for the plains, where such weather was common. In addition to the obvious threat of the lightning, it could be bringing dangerous straight-line winds, hail, or even spawn a tornado. Seated atop the wagon, Indigo peered off into the distance, his eyes narrowing. After a few moments, he stood up. “You see something?” Mindblind asked. “I am not sure. It appears to be a small, square hill.” “Probably a barbarian burial mound,” Raven scoffed as she climbed up onto the wagon. Mindblind stared off toward where Indigo was gazing, but all he saw was the hip-high grass spreading out in every direction. Raven reached into one of the numerous pockets and pouches secreted in all of her clothing and retrieved a small spyglass. Upon extending it, she lifted it to her eye and tracked it back and forth in a methodical way. Suddenly she stopped and let out a hmm of discovery. After a few seconds of scrutiny, she dropped the spyglass and said, “I’m not sure, but I think there’s an old turf house out there in a shallow valley.” Looking up at the storm, which was approaching with alarming speed, Mindblind asked, “Think we can make it?” “If we run like hell. May not be much of it left, if that’s even what it is. The grass growing on it looks almost as tall as the shit growing around it.” “Even part of a wall is better than being out here in the middle of the damn road.” He turned to the women within and around the wagon. “You’re all going to have to run. Once that wagon’s off the road, the less weight on it, the better. Otherwise, you all might be walking tomorrow.” “Let’s go,” Raven yelled, and leaped down from the wagon to sprint toward the distant structure. Having gained a little respect for the hardships of the road – and a great deal of same for the half-breed warrior and nimble thief who led them – the women gathered up their skirts and ran. Indigo turned the wagon off the road, clucking his tongue and flipping the reins to urge a burst of speed from the horse. After one last, lingering look at the approaching storm, Mindblind cinched up a strap on his armor and brought up the rear. His long, muscled legs ate up the distance, even through the tall grass, and he soon passed the wagon. One of the prostitutes stumbled, vanishing into the grass, which was now bending before a steady gale. He planted his foot hard upon reaching her, coming to an abrupt stop, and grabbed her arm, jerking her back to her feet. “C’mon. We’ve got to run.” Though the brunette – he dimly remembered that her name was Cammie – winced, she nodded and took off into a hobbling jog. As the wagon passed him once again, Mindblind could tell that the prostitute had twisted her ankle, at the least. She cried out in pain after twenty feet or so, nearly dropping to her knees in the grass again. “I can make it,” she said as he jogged up next to her. Seeing the tears streaming down her cheeks and the unmistakable grimace of pain, he shook his head. “No, you can’t.” Without further comment, he squatted down, scooped her up into his arms, and started to run again. Ahead in the distance, Raven waved the other women toward what was undeniably a turf house, which he could see had at least two intact walls and a roof. As Raven had mentioned, the grass growing on the roof of the rude structure was nearly as tall as that on the prairie surrounding it. If it had survived long enough to sprout that growth, it should last through one more storm. He was still a fair distance away when the first sprinkles – if drops large enough to sting bare skin could be called that – started falling. The wagon, upon which he had been closing, surged forward with a fresh burst of speed, bouncing on the uneven terrain and whipping long strands of tough grass that had tangled in the wheels. Grunting from the effort, Mindblind quickened his pace. Errant drops turned to sheets of horizontal rain slamming into him, soaking one side of his body while the other remained dry – if not for long. Cammie clung to his neck, whimpering with every one of his hard footfalls from the bouncing of her turned ankle. Lightning flashed in the descending darkness, and booms of thunder set off shockwaves he could feel. Still, he pressed on, the turf house looming larger as the wagon turned to pass in front of it. A stinging jolt in his shoulder marked the first pelting of hail. The icy stones plunged down, hissing through the grass and thudding into the earth below. Putting his head down and leaning over the woman in his arms as best he could, Mindblind ran for shelter.

Preview of Chapter 05: ======================== After the beer and a quick wash, Mindblind headed for bed, chuckling from the discovery that the prostitutes had purchased several mattresses to give them places to sleep with less crowding in the common room that evening. He nodded off rather quickly, despite Kayleen and Raven whispering in the bed across the room, and some rather suggestive movements that he’d seen going on beneath the sheets. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep when he awoke with a start, feeling the weight of a body atop him. Raven kissed him hard, and as soon as the initial shock of awakening wore off, he realized that he could taste pussy on her lips. She moaned as she pulled away from his lips, and then leaned down next to his ear to whisper, “You like?” “Yeah,” he answered, and pulled her nude body down against him. A nip on his ear, just hard enough to sting, caused him to relax his grip a little. Raven slipped down off him and spun on her knees so that her tight ass was facing him. Stretching one leg over his body, she lowered her sex to his mouth. Mindblind slipped his tongue through the dark nest of curls, which were well dampened by her juices, into the bittersweet treat beyond. He groaned as he felt her slide down his light pants and push his knees apart to wrap her lips around his cock. Raven gyrated her hips, grinding her pussy into his face. The stiff hairs grated against his skin, but the taste of her and the feeling of her hot mouth on his cock well overshadowed the discomfort. As with their first heated coupling, she took charge. He simply kept his tongue moving, and she moved to guide it where she wanted it. In no time, his face was smeared with her juices from the tip of his nose to his chin. Her knees pressed the pillow up against his ears, but he could still faintly hear the sound of her moaning. He could feel it far more acutely as the sound vibrated through his cock in her mouth. She said something, but he couldn’t make out the words. He was too lost in the taste and scent of her to worry about it, and continued to devour her. Her lips slid over his swollen shaft at a quick pace, taking about half of him in on each stroke. The motion of her hips grew slightly erratic as she soared toward climax on his tongue. Though he didn’t feel the bed shift, he certainly felt Kayleen’s tongue when she slipped into the bed to lap his hairless orbs.

Just curious if there are any tales you've always wondered about while reading my stories. This more or less is a Darkniciad thing, since pretty much everything else I write is self-contained. That doesn't mean I won't consider ideas related to my other stories, though. I'm sure many will answer that they'd like to know how the characters in the Nobles series ended up as the Nobles of Egoria, and I'll certainly write that one day. Sure there are plenty who only have one answer as well: "The rest of Sisters of the Mists!" I'm doing my best. It's just hard for me a lot of the time, because with every scene I write about Danica, I see my late wife in my mind's eye. I hear her voice. I can feel her touch. Smell her hair. There are days when that's wonderful, and days when it's painful as hell. Thought I'd get those two out of the way. "Ebon Genesis" came about because a reader was curious about the origins of some of Zoraster's perversions, and wanted to read about it. It sparked me, and I started writing the story almost immediately. So, anybody have a burning question they'd like to see answered in a tale? While I'm on this roll of forward momentum, I want to have as much to look forward to as possible, which should help keep me rolling along. New, exciting ideas of where to take my characters does that quite well. Feel free to make suggestions. You don't have to do it here. There's always the option of my feedback forms on the story sites, or my contact form here, but this topic is certainly an easy means to get your ideas to me. Even if I don't see a storyline, I can probably answer many questions you might have

Time to preview Ch. 04, which I expect to hit on Tuesday morning: **************** The sight of five prostitutes wearing simple summer dresses was almost surreal. A few of the women waved upon seeing him, and then returned to their meal of fried pork, eggs, and bread. “Ready to eat?” the bleary-eyed barman asked. “Yep.” Mindblind slapped a coin on the makeshift bar. “Gimme a beer, too.” With his tankard in hand, he walked over to a free seat at the two tables where the prostitutes sat, when they called out for him to join them. “Nice dresses.” All five women laughed. “They’re hard up around here. Women must be stingy with the pussy,” a blonde remarked. She then nudged a brunette next to her. “Tell him, Betty.” The other woman nodded and took a drink of water. “This young guy came in late last night, looking all nervous. Think he about went off in his pants when I sat down next to him. Anyway, he didn’t have any money. I was going to give him a free one because he was cute, and looked like he needed it so bad, but he said that he had an old wagon he could give me.” The blonde picked up the story. “Old man must have heard that, and saw Betty walking him off. He said that he had a horse that could pull that wagon. We went and took a look at them this morning when we went to buy the dresses. The horse looks okay. The wagon won’t hold us all, but we can take turns riding.” One of the other women laughed. “I humped a guy for five wheels of cheese, and Tawny got a cask of wine for fucking a fat farmboy.” Mindblind laughed at the absurdity of the horse-trading – literally in at least one case – that the women had done for their services. “Sounds like business is good.” He then nodded to the woman who emerged from the kitchen with his breakfast and sat it down in front of him. “I know that you said that we shouldn’t take the wagons when we ran off here, but I don’t know if we can walk all the way back,” the blonde said with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. After swallowing a bite of ham, Mindblind said, “Surprised you want to leave, way things are going.” She shrugged. “Have to start paying for this place eventually, or find somewhere else. Besides, Yasmine is good to us. She humps this old priest who took a shine to her, and he keeps us from getting sick. She buys us potions that keep us from getting pregnant, too.” “Those potions are going to wear off in a couple of days,” Betty added. She then looked down into the bodice of her dress and smirked at the blonde, who rolled her eyes. “Still not sure if it’s a good idea, but I guess it can’t be helped,” Mindblind said, while tearing off a hunk of bread. “We still have some money, and we’ll probably end up with more, so if you think we need to buy anything, we’ll help.” “Or hump somebody for it,” Betty suggested with a laugh. Though he never would have considered whores as valuable traveling companions – other than the obvious – Mindblind had to reevaluate that position in light of all that they’d accomplished in such a short period of time. “Somebody take me to have a look at that horse and wagon later. If they’re sound, we’ll go that way.”

Chapter 3 preview. Expected to hit on Friday. ====================== The firelight from the encampment finally provided enough illumination for Mindblind to figure out what he was doing as he followed Raven, miming her movements. His knees ached from inching along in a crouch below the top of the waist-high grasses, and his hair was full of cockleburs. The animal trail that Raven followed helped to obscure their movements through the grass, and the wind provided the final cover. He had no worries about any sound that they made alerting the slavers. The voices of at least five prostitutes crying out in mock passion would drown out anything less than a war cry. A combination of laughter and catcalls hinted that the men probably weren’t paying much attention to anything else, anyway. Raven stopped and settled to her knees behind a bush. A larger, irregular circle of broken grass spread out from the shrub – likely a spot where several animals had bedded down. Mindblind gratefully joined her on his knees, and found that he could see the encampment through the bush. Three wagons and two large tents surrounded the fire in the center of the camp. A few lanterns shed fitful light as they struggled to burn in the wind. The group obviously had no fear of discovery, as all eyes were trained upon the show around the fire. Mindblind could see two women on their hands and knees, men with dropped trousers kneeling behind them and furiously pounding away. Another woman stood, bent at the waist, one man behind her and another feeding her his cock in the front. Other couplings were just hints of body parts peeking through the fire. Raven’s whisper in his ear caused him to start. “The one getting poked from both ends is my sister.” He could almost hear her eyes rolling in her tone. A few seconds later, the man in front of Raven’s sister jerked his cock free of her mouth and tilted her head up by using her hair as a handle. Gales of laughter erupted when he apparently sprayed cum all over her face. Raven sat down, seemingly confident that they had nothing to fear at the moment. Her brow furrowed as her eyes roamed over her surroundings. Once again, Mindblind followed her lead and sat down, having much the same opinion about the chance of discovery. She leaned in close and whispered, “Something’s not right. It’s bad business to let them have their way with any woman they grab – even a whore. Makes it tempting to ignore orders not to poke the virgins on the next grab.” “Maybe whoever’s runnin’ the bunch ain’t around, and they figure they can get away with it.” “Not unless they’re greener than pond scum. You see anybody with a weapon?” He couldn’t recall any obvious swords or bows. Some might be carrying daggers or other small weapons, but nothing that would do much good if anyone came after them. “Nope. Only a couple of them had anything back at the Cat.” “I’d bet my left tit that those were the only real slavers. They just rounded this bunch up somewhere. It stinks worse than a fishmonger’s ass.” “Good for us.” “Maybe. We’ll have to wait until most of them get done with their ride and fall asleep. Twenty to two isn’t good odds, even if all they have to fight with is their fists and their stink.” Raven leaned forward and draped her arms over her bent knees, her ears perking and eyes snapping toward any hint of sound or movement. The wait was a long one. As near as Mindblind could tell, every man in the camp had a turn, and then some. Eventually, men vanished into the tents, one-by-one. When the number dropped low enough, one of a pair of half-attentive guards would return any unused woman to a wagon, until only one couple on the other side of the fire remained. Raven had drawn a long-bladed dagger as the next-to-the-last woman was returned to her rolling prison. Mindblind slipped his arm back into his shield, also sensing that the time to act was close. He and Raven both tensed when two faint twangs accompanied the guards sprouting feathered shafts from their chests and falling silently to the ground.

And here's a preview of Ch. 02, expected to hit on Monday. =========================== Mindblind came to, feeling rain on his face and grass beneath his back. With a great deal of effort, he managed to open his eyes and sit up. His vision swam, and he could feel the knots beneath his hair when he reflexively rubbed his head. A glance up revealed the reason for his current location. By some twist of fate, when the slaver had knocked him out, he’d fallen through the large double window upstairs. It swung open in the wind, illuminated by fitful light from the lanterns inside. From there, he must have bounced off the roof of the back room of the brothel, to the ground below. The back door stood open as well, banging against the frame. He had no idea how long he’d been out, but he couldn’t hear any sounds of struggle from within the brothel. With his senses returning, he managed to stand, feeling mud slithering down his back and buttocks. By the time he reached the back door, he was walking steadily, although he had a pounding headache. A few groans were the only sounds he could hear as he passed through the dimly lit storage room into the brothel. The scene was much as he remembered it, with the guards lying dead. The slaver he’d knocked through the railing sprawled lifeless on a decorative table. The Madame was unconscious behind her counter, though she was moving a little and groaned as Cerebus walked past. He couldn’t see any bruises or blood, and assumed that she’d fainted. He climbed the stairs, his eyes focused on the door to Delly’s room, which still stood open. It quite nearly cost him his life, because two doors down from her room, a woman popped out with a dagger in hand. She pulled her stab, missing him as he put up his arms in a weak defense. "You’re not one of them," she guessed. Still wary, he answered, "No." The woman had coal-dark hair, cut short, and wore only a long shirt that barely reached her upper thighs. The garment was soaked through, probably from the rain, and did little to hide her small breasts, which were still quite substantial for her petite frame. Even as he evaluated her, her eyes took him in as well. Her eyebrows popped up for a second when she glanced between his legs, and she let out a curious little grunt. "How long have they been gone?" He finally asked. "A few minutes. I managed to jump out a window before they could grab me." She saw his eyes focus on Delly’s door again, and shook her head. "They took her?" "No," she answered, her eyes already telling him what he didn’t want to know.