Wolf - R18+ (You have been warned)

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Witchdoctor
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Witchdoctor »

Likes it we do :)
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Lonely in a crowd.

Wolf sat in the Red Stag nursing his mug of cheap red wine. Not a good drop, he thought straining it through his teeth and spitting a little lees back into the mug. Still, he had brought the bottle as a gift to himself out of what little gold he had left… and was determined to drink it.

All around Wolf sat the imagined ghosts people he cared about but were now dead or far away… Eris, Kristovar, Rinke, Volgara, Binlina… aye… and friends dead, gone, or absent… Kert the guileless warrior mage, Sylvaine the uppity noble bitch, Magnus the cursed, Tam the bear, Lord Drake and lady Elektra, Horatio the woodsman, Morgan the horseman. Tormas of Assuran… who Wolf saw cut down in front of him... and yet lay unavenged. Tha’is the dancer… aye… Tha’is the dancer. Having all of them in one place… aye that would be a night to remember.

Gods he was lonely.

Evening patrons were just starting to make their way in now… and the whores were beginning to mingle. Wolf sent a few half hearted smiles at some of the working girls he knew from when he was asking after Medira. He had already turned down a few offers of a birthday tumble. He just wasn’t in the mood… for so many reasons.

He rubbed at the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last few weeks. Every night in his dreams he was chased by vampires… oft with the faces of those he loved. He would turn to run but find himself moving at a snails pace while the vampire would grope at him, stopping his heart with its deathly cold touch. He would awake feeling awful… like his grave had been not just walked over… but jumped upon. He took another swallow from his cup, trying to hide his grimace at the taste.

Evening traffic continues to build… and his imaginary birthday guests soon had their chairs robbed by other patrons. It was building to be a busy night for sure. He was jostled by a passing farmer who apologised good naturedly. Wolf had almost shouted at him… and was barely able to keep the irritation from his face. Gods… the lonliest place to be can oft be in a crowd. Wolf shook his head. It was time for him to go. This place was not improving his mood, and he was scarce in the mood to entertain folk when he was miserable himself.

He poured the last of the red wine into his cup. As he lifted the cup to his lips, and tilted his head… he saw a rather well dressed woman with a lute over her shoulder swagger towards the bar from the door. Wolf was somewhat intrigued… he watched as she slid onto a stool at the bar and began to talk to the barkeep. He drained the last of the wine with a painful swallow. Wolf put a little of her swagger into his seat and moved to a stool two down from her own, sending a single coin sliding along the bar to pay for her drink. She looked across to Wolf… an initial look of thanks that he noted also held the slightest sneer as she noted his Gur clothing and the lute over his shoulder.

The sneer grew more as introductions were made… and doubly so after she had held “Isabel Yoc Vitera Mileidis”. Aye, twas her opinion that Wolf was not worthy of such an instrument… and she offered to prove it, with a competition. The stakes would be… his lute… against her magical cloak. Wolf was feeling… self destructive. Aye… he agreed, and by way of insult he suggested she offer herself up as a prize should he win. She retorted that she would not be in the mood… but perhaps if she won… In any event the terms were laid out. The victor would be decided by the crowd. She left to prepare herself.

What she didn’t realise was that Wolf was here amongst friends. Troymaine the barkeep, and the whores of the Red Stag. Wolf knew at least that he would have their support if he called for it. He had stacked the competition right from the start… which was just as well. When Vieka (for that was her name) came back from her preperations Wolf realised just how much trouble he was in. She had changed into a figure revealing outfit… and was more… radiant then before. Wolf considered wether to unsettle her by unworking her magics.. but that would leave him without any surprises of his own should she prove a crowd favourite.

She began a sultry number and worked the crowd well. Wolf could see why now she was a favourite amongst the nobles. Troyaine leant over the bar and said quietly “Lad… you’re in trouble”. Wolf gulped and realised what a foolish gamble he had made. She finished up to loud applause and a smirk to Wolf.

He gulped.

He prepared upstairs… with prayers to Tymora, Milil, Oghma, and Selune. He would need to be at his best to have any chance of winning out over her well practised performance.

He wasn’t at his best.

He sung the crowd favourite “The Ffolk song” but his mood, lack of sleep, tipsy state, and nerves got to him. He was losing the crowd. Out of desperation he called forth what he judged his secret weapon… an illusion of Tha’is dancing upon the bar… and with a prayer to the gods, he began to play “The Dancers Song”… never before performed in public. It was only through inspired concentration that Wolf was able to play and maintain the illusion at the same time and it proved popular enough… though his applause was perhaps marginally less than hers.

Wolf and Vieka talked quietly after, she was clearly confident… yet Wolf was not finished working the crowd… even as he fantasized about diving out a window, and onto horseback and away. He announced that the performances had in fact been a competition and there were stakes for the winner. As he began to win the crowd over with his banter Vieka also joined in the verbal fray, each subtlety mocking and trying to one up the other. It was only through the support of the whores and Wolfs own common touch and showmanship with the people that he elicited the slightly larger cheer at the end of it.

Vieka was furious feeling that she had been cheated. Even more so when Wolf publicly called her out to thank the people, and hand over the wager. She left glaring daggers at wolf… and without honouring their wager (though Wolf knew she had reason to feel aggrieved).

It had at least proven a distraction from his birthday woes, Wolf counting himself lucky to still have the lute. Perhaps he should be thankful for what he did have and leave it at that?

…Nay. Gurish honor called for him to get that cloak… one way or another... and he began to make tipsy plans to do so.

Image

*Artwork by Unknown.
Last edited by Rumple C on Sat Dec 22, 2012 12:48 pm, edited 3 times in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Wolfs Revenge.

Hey Ffolks, can I borrow your ear?
I’ve got a question I want you to hear!

Aye, a question of morals, honor and such
Of promises made, and a ladies deft touch

Aye, so if you make a deal and don’t like the result
Do you blame the other and say they’re at fault?

Aye, or do you suck it up, and honor your word?
Or walk away, and act like a turd?

Aye, I guess this song raises more questions that most
Well, I’ll name names soon, and that's no idle boast

Aye, I’d be willing to keep her name discreet
If the lady involved will consent to meet

Aye, I’ll act the man and go another round
Lute against lute, sound against sound

So the offers out there, less she be scared
She said shes the best, but I’ll be prepared!

So virtuous one, I’m calling you out
Meet me in bardic battle, or concede it’s a rout


.........

Heh, and so she responds with such lack of class
With a voice reminiscent of the braying of an ass

Aye, way i heard it she’s past her prime
With a faded voice and a faded rhyme

Well..really, what did we expect to find, sir?
When her best days are clearly behind 'er

I imagine it hurts, I expect it might bite
To have lost such a public bardic fight

Aye, in front of my Ffolk, those of the land
Those chose the winner, they raised my hand

Still, its not lost for her, she still has a chance
If she can stop thinking of whats in my pants

So Virtuous one, I’ve not name you yet
Lets dance once more and settle this bet

The longer we spar, the longer we game
Your’re raising the stakes and risking your name

So keep safe that cloak, for soon it’ll be mine
For your sun has set, and your stars in decline


Image

*Artwork by Valerie Martin
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

False hopes.

Wolf and Ana sat next to the small stream. They each held a small stick from which a limp line of twine ran down to and into the water. They were fishing.

“Anything?” asked Wolf.

Ana looked at her line “No, you have anything?”.

Wolf looked at his line. “No, you have anything?” he teased. Ana giggled and Wolf smiled. “Would you like some food?” he wondered aloud, reaching into his pack to pull out a simple loaf of brown bread wrapped in a dull yellow cloth. He unwrapped the bread and tore off a hunk handing it to Ana who took it gratefully. As she pulled at the crust with her teeth Wolf filled a battered tin mug with water from the stream and set it down next to her.

“I want wine like you” demanded Ana. Wolf looked amused.

“Fine” he said. “One mouthful, no more”. Ana nodded her agreement as Wolf reached into his pack again and produced a wine skin which was half full of red wine. He unstoppered it and handed it to Ana. She took it in both hands and lifted it to her mouth, tilting her head back. Wolf watched her swallow once, and then twice. He reached over and squeezed the wine skin hard. Ana choked and sputtered as more wine was forced into her mouth than it could hold. Wolf retrieved the wine skin and stoppered it as Ana coughed and wiped red wine from her cheeks and chin.

She looked at him with accusatory eyes. “Why did you do that?”.

“Why did you drink more than a mouthful” he retorted.

“I’m not a kid you know, i’m almost seven!”.

Wolf laughed. “If you want to be an adult, then behave like one, and that means not lying to your friends, and don’t drink more than you should”.

Ana grudgily nodded and returned to eating the brown bread, picking at its softer interior with her fingers. Wolf simply tore at the tough crust with his teeth.

“How are things with you anyway Ana” Wolf asked as Ana finished hollowing out her husk of bread.

“Allright I guess, but I miss Medira”.

Wolf nodded, then took a drink of red wine in honor of the woman he had never met. He was determined to honor her memory. “Did you think anymore about coming with me when I leave the isles? You can have a home with my family, and have sisters and brothers, and aunts and uncles, and more cousins than you can imagine... and see so many more wonderful places than you can count on your fingers... and toes and get to sleep in a caravan every night!”.

“Maybe” said Ana quietly. Wolf simply nodded and they sat in silence a while.

“Have you been practising with the drum?” Wolf asked looking to the slow flowing stream.

Ana nodded excitedly and reached into a torn sack next to her from which Wolf could plainly see the small plain hide drum he had gifted her. “Play something for me?” he requested with a smile. Ana looked at him slightly unsure.

“I only know one song” she said as she began to tap at the drum irregularly then began to sing...

The wolf pounced on his prey
Proud and wild and gay.
Though what sorrow did befell him,
When his little lute failed him


Wolf held up his hand to stop her. “That was very good” he said with a weak smile “where did you hear that song?”.

“Umm, from that other lady with the lute, who was singing it... why do they call you crying Wolf?”.

Wolf looked at Ana a long moment. “I’m really not sure, i have an idea though, why don’t we make up our own song? Then you can play for your friends and sing it for that lady next time you see her”. Wolf showed her a simple rhythm on the drum, then began to Rhyme.

*thup, thop thop... thup thop thop*

Ana is by the stream...
Is she in a dream?
She is playing on her drum!
She has mud on her bum!


Wolf smiled and Ana giggled. He urged her to keep playing.

Wolf is by the water...
Doing what he oughta!
Trying to catch a fish
That is his wish

Just Wolf and Ana
Coming up with a plan-a
Trying to find a way
Maybe she’ll become a Swanmay!


Wolf smiled and stopped singing and Ana stopped drumming. “Do you know what a Swanmay is Ana?”. Ana shook her head as Wolf explained. “Swanmays are a group of beautiful and strong and wide ladies who are dedicated to protecting the streams and rivers and lakes. They can also turn themselves into swans”. Ana sat wide eyed. “I speak true Ana, i know it sounds fantastic, but it is true. One day if you prove yourself wise and true and strong and graceful and just then they might invite you to become one of them”.

Ana smiled and sneezed, wiping her nose on her sleeve that was already stained with red wine.

Image

*Artwork by Henny Purwadi
Last edited by Rumple C on Wed Dec 19, 2012 2:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Let the buyer beware.

Wolf knocked softly and turned the handle on the door to the fortune tellers hovel. It was dusk now, and Selune had just risen, though she was tinged an ominous yellow color this eve, seemingly larger than usual.

With a quick glance behind him Wolf entered the hovel, closing the door softly behind him. His stomach churned... gods, he was nervous as hells already. He had taken but a few steps when he heard her speak... “Ahh... the maker of songs”. Wolf stopped where he was, dropping to one knee, stunned. She had the gift... aye, she did. Wolf looked up from where he knelt as the fortune teller turned, her eyes covered in a filmy white cloth, as though she were blind.

“Come dear, come” she gestured him forward. Wolf softly rose, and drew closer, hesitating a moment as he saw skulls piled high on a shelf behind her. Gods, what was he doing here? She smiled... a small secret smile that Wolf has seen on the true fortune tellers of the Gur, those who spoke to Savras. Though... she was not Gur, they would not keep skulls...

“The fortune maker” she smiled under the filmy cloth “good or bad, there it is...” she took a deep breath before continuing. “You seek fortunes then... Would you like to be told of them? Or have them made? The choice is never easy sound maker”. She seemed almost amused as she named him thus.

“Aye, I’ll hear whatever you think best” spoke Wolf, reaching into his pocket for the handful of silver coins he had brought especially for this.

“No not at all child, i’ll not choose on your behalf” she moved her hands and ran them over the skulls on the small table, then a few gems and other objects Wolf did not recognise, truly she was a powerful fortune teller! “If you wish your fortune told as if you were a common man then I will do that... but if you dare, wish it forged out of light, fire, and magic...” she motioned to another table nearby upon which small lights whirled over a wooden box. “then we could do that as well”.

Wolfs spoke... his voice stuttering, and betraying his nerves...”Aye...aye”.

“Choose child” her voice was soft... but spoke with a firmness and urgency he couldn’t deny.

“The path less common... common is not enough, not any more” her said, thinking of all he meant to do, all that he had promised to do, and all that he had not yet done. So many promises, to so many people... and so many things beyond “a common man”. Gods, he was a prince of the Gur... it was time to face it.

She gestured him over to the small table, upon which sat the wooden box, over which white lights whirled. He sat as instructed, even as she began to speak in a mystic tongue he did not recognise. His thoughts went back to the fortune telling he had had with his own people. Aye, there had been fraudsters for sure, telling him what he wanted to hear... but every once in a while... aye, you could see they had the gift. That was when things got serious. But never had he felt this... uneasy. Never had he been asked to forge his own future. His hands were beginning to ache, and he realised he was gipping the arms of his chair with white knuckled force. He had to consciously will himself to relax.

Her voice jolted him “Reach out your hand, touch the box, and choose how many paths to your fate, choose how many treasures and rivals you’ll find, how many times you’ll face death or glory, choose... how many cards you will draw”.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop and the lights dim. Sweat formed at his brow, his heart pounded in his chest.

He leaned forward in his chair recoiling when light whirled out and around the table. It seemed... threatening, ominous. He reached lower this time, under the lights, and touched the box...

“Selune...” he had mouthed her name without thinking it.

“Name a number” again she had spoken softly, but there was a demand in her voice that could not be ignored.

Wolfs mind panicked and sought solace in his memories...a number... gods, what number. His daughters face swam in front of him. Her favourite number... and how old she was when she had died...

“Seven!” he cried out falling back in his chair, his throat suddenly hoarse.

“And the draw begins...” she intoned even as seven cards slid themselves out of the box and then down to a pile in front of Wolf.

“Volgara... gods...” Wolf spoke without thinking, his voice a plea for help.

“Take your card and flip it, or it will do so for you” she commanded. Wolf reached with a shaking hand, touching the top card and flipping it over. It fell from his fingers as he saw what it held...

“Gods have mercy!”

It showed a bony demonic figure covered in chains, it seemed to almost leer at him, wavering upon the card. In one hand it carried a lantern which shone a wan yellow light. It reminded Wolf of the yellowed Selune he had seen just before entry, and not in a good way. The card read “The Demons Lantern”.

“What is undone, cannot be undone, pull it closer sound maker, then flip the next”.

Wolf dragged it towards him with one finger, being careful not to touch the demon itself. He was afraid it would sit up from the card and grab his soul if he were to do so. He licked his lips nervously with a dry tongue and flipped the next card.

“Gods i’m cursed!”

This card showed another horrid scene, a one eye old hag who had no ears and but a single finger she held to her mouth almost obscenely. The expression on the hags face seemed almost amused, like she was laughing at Wolf. The card read “The Mute Hag”.

“What is done, cannot be undone”.

Wolf pulled it into place as commanded, wiping sweat away from his face with the back of his hand. He flipped the next card expecting the worst, and felt overwhelming relief when the face of a beautiful woman stared back at him. Her face was a mix of sweetness and seduction. The card read “The Marriage”. Wolf immediately thought of Binlina... and then of Tha’is, which only served to throw more emotions into the turbulent mix of fear, dread and confusion he was already experiencing.

“Everything will be clear when the end comes” the fortune teller intoned. Wolf dragged the card into place as instructed and flipped another.

He released the breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding...

It showed a stern but compassionate looking man, on a field of soothing blue. It was named “The Teamster”. Wolf found himself speaking “Father...” even as he dragged the card into place. He had calmed somewhat now, two good cards to offset the two horrors that he had first drawn. If he could just keep it like this...

Wolf flipped the next card... it showed a changing landscape hills into plains, forests, winding paths, then a desert. It was named “The Desert”. Wolf thought of the caravans of the Gur... always moving through such, then wondered if that was what it meant at all.

“Two more to come” the fortune teller intoned. He shifted the card into place and flipped the next.

This time Wolf tilted the card towards him... looking from the card to the fortune teller. This one at least he liked... a lot. His fortune had seemed to reverse with four good cards against two now. The card was named “The Courtesan”, and showed a girl dancing upon clouds, with lightning bolts in the distance. She was smiling at Wolf, though the smile made him feel odd. The dancing figure could only mean one thing... Tha’is surely.

He dared a small smile as he moved it into place, and rest his hand over the last unflipped card. The smile fell from his face as the card felt... wrong. He swallowed hard. He sat still.

“It will not wait, not for long, best be your hand that flips it, so the the illusion of control remains at hand...”

Wolfs hand hovered on the seventh and last card. His hand was deathly white, glowing almost in the whirling lights from the magical box. His fate was written underneath, the key card, the last of them all...

“Aye” was the only reply he could force out... yet his hand had still not moved.

Wolf was terrified.

Wolfs numbed fingers slid the card left, then over...

And his world froze.

His stomach turned.

Corpse.

Worms.

Death.

Plague.

"The Sickness".

His throat tightened, and he dared to think for a moment that he was only imagining it, recalling the time he, himself had been touched by the spotted plague, and watched it claim Volgaras life, stealing her from him... but no, he began to cough, and knew something was terribly terribly wrong. The worms on the card seemed to writhe and wiggle even as his vision swam. He felt the room spin and himself fall sideways, only staying in the chair through gripping both arm rests. His gut roiled and churned, in a terrible sympathy with the worms in the gut of the corpse.

“In its place, one cannot escape his fate, and one should not try, or I assure you, worse will come, the seventh card, above the last... finish it”.

Wolf weakly raised his arm and fumbled at the card, dragging it roughly into place with the palm of his hand. He felt deathly cold.

The cards glowed, straightened themselves, then trembled before sliding themselves back into the box. Wolf looked with horror to the fortune teller. He was cursed with a terrible sickness, that much seemed clear. She spoke words at him, but they washed over him like waves... like he was drowning in the Boareskyr river, in Banes black blood itself. He allowed himself to be led to the door, and fell out to the street.

With swimming vision he looked up, and straight ahead at the end of the roiling, churning, nauseating street.

He saw the boned entrance to the temple of Kelemvor.

Steward of the dead.

Image

*Artwork by Squiddo.com
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Silvermane.

Aye, gather ye round, and listen ye well...
For I am the Wolf, with a story to tell...
A story of a man, just doing what was right...
He put blade to blade, in that cage most tight...

But now i've skipped ahead, my listeners dear...
Let me start at the start, and name where is where...
In pirate Skaug it starts, there on the wharf...
In defence of a slave, aye, Sela the dwarf...

Sela had been taken, by evil slaver Adon...
Half fish and half man, but his humanity gone...
Sela the dwarf was to fight in a cage...
To face man and beast, battle be waged...

Now enter our hero, a warrior great...
He threw caution to wind, and gambled his fate...
Silvermane was his name, of silver was he made...
Silver of heart, and of hair, and of that bastard blade...

Aye, he went to Adon, and looked him in the eye...
Damn you slaver, i'll not let this dwarf die!...
Had I the power, i'd fight for them all...
With sword and fist, eye to eye, ball to ball...

That bastard laughed, and so did his gaurd...
Aye, I saw it all, your humble bard...
So Silvermane showed his worth, by striking down Adons man...
Adon made him a deal, and so it began...

Silvermane in the cage, in the dwarfs stead...
No armor or shields, dangerous in deed!...
Five would he face, each tempered in the hells...
One man, Three halfs, and a half sized as well...

Silvermane fought with honor, preserving life where he could...
Silver arced, steel chimed, and blood stained the wood...
Aye, so they danced, and the winner was death...
But in the end, twas only Silvermane left...

Silvermane stood, and the crowd roared his name...
He had won, he had won, this most terrible game...
But then the chant changed from Silvermane to Bear! Bear! Bear!...
Silvermane turned his head, and met Adons leer...

One last battle he faced, against a great bear most brown...
An awful foe, that may well take him down...

Adon approached and spoke with a quiet voice...
Silvermane take this potion, you have little choice...
It'll help you in the fight, just our little trick...
Silverman trusted, then drank, and began to feel sick...

Aye, that bastard, that trecherous Adon...
Silvermane had been true, but Adon played him wrong...
Silvermane knew, he had not long left to stand...
He charged at the bear, his blows set to land...

'twas amazing to watch, Silvermane fought with care...
He fought with kindness, and quickly killed the bear...
He turned and he looked, then fell to the ground...
Adon turned on his heel, and left with narry a sound...

By sheer force of will, Silvermane lived through that day...
He willed his strength back and was able to say...
I did it for them, for men held in the cages...
Aye, i'd do it again, for it brings on my rages...

Silvermane left the port, the dwarf and he walked free...
They left by ship, into the churning sea...
Aye, thats the legend, of the just Silvermane...
A man of silver, and the slavers bane...

So if you find yourself, unjustly trapped in a cell...
Pray for Silvermane to free you from that hell...
Pray to your gods, ask them for that mercy...
Pray for Silvermane, aye, then you will see...

There you have it, my name is Wolf Vard...
Now please, be kind, show silver to your bard...


Image

*Artwork by Sic Side Fx
Last edited by Rumple C on Mon Oct 08, 2012 10:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Witchdoctor
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Witchdoctor »

With absolutely no bias on my part :wink: It's your best work yet of course.
puny
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by puny »

lovely!
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Deeds, not words.

Wolf lay unclothed in the bare monks cell on a rough rug. A linen sheet preserved his modesty. It was a very small room, had he reached out with both hands he would touch opposite walls. There was a stale smelling chamber bucket in the corner of the room, and his pack in the opposite corner. Under his head was a rolled shirt, cradled in his arms was his lute.

His lips were dry, and his skin flaking. He weakly lifted his head for a moment and looked down towards his feet. He was beginning to look gaunt now. He had always been lean, but now his ribs were far more prominent and his stomach dropped sharply where his rip cage finished. His eyes were drawn to the scars on his body now as well. There… where the orc arrow had caught him in the gut, and there where his shoulder had been shredded by the shark-men. In fact looking closely his whole body was becoming a crisscross of tiny white scars. His imperfect gur healing only heals imperfectly…

Wolf ran a hand through his hair then held it up for inspection. Long clumps of limp hair were strung between his fingers. Far, far too much hair. He fumbled behind his head, finding the stainless steel mirror he had taken to looking at often. Reddened and sunken eyes looked back at him in the scratched surface. His lips were dry and cracked, and stung in the corners whenever he opened his mouth. His hair was getting patchy now. He looked like an old man. Almost as old as his father.

There was a gentle knock at his door to his borrowed monks cell. Wolf tried to speak but all that emerged at first was a croak in his dry throat. He cleared his voice and spoke again in a dry voice…

“Enter”.

A simple wooden bowl entered. It was carried by a monk who silently walk in, and set the bowl down next to Wolf. The monk straightened and looked around the room, at Wolfs gaunt form, the mirror, and then the clumps of hair Wolf had piled on the linen blanket. He turned his gaze slowly and somberly to meet wolfs eyes.

Wolf looked away, ashamed of his piteous state.

The monk turned on his heel and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Wolf looked to the simple wooden bowl which held a small amount of what looked to be porridge. It appeared cold. The idea of food turned his stomach. He pushed the bowl away into the corner by his pack.

He stared up at the ceiling and counted spider webs. He heard a “twang” from his lute, and wasn’t sure if he had absentmindedly plucked a note. He kept counting spiderwebs. He lost count at twenty eight as his eyes began to close.

He was awakened again by a knock on the cell door. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. He felt worse than before, and called out hoarsely “enter…”.

Another bowl preceeded the monk, who looked around, then at the other bowl with the uneaten meal. There was a look of disdain upon the monks face.

Wolf looked away again.

The monk moved to Wolfs side, and knelt. His gnarled old hands moved to Wolfs lute. Wolf held the lute for a moment longer than was polite, but allowed it to be taken from him. The monk gently set it aside. The lute “twanged” as it was set down. Wolf turned his head to look at the lute, then the monks eyes which held his own. Gods, it was impossible to hold his eyes. It was like they were seeing right through Wolf.

Again, Wolf looked away, feeling like he had been stripped bare, and found wanting at his core.

The monk took Wolf by the wrist and shoulder and pulled him into a sitting position. Wolf allowed him to do so, though he was not sure what the monk was doing. Wrinkled old hands began to run through Wolfs hair, then a comb. Great clumps of hair were removed and added to the pile.

Wolf felt his eyes begin to burn. He thought he was crying though he felt no tears. Gods, he was dying. Again. It was like the spotted plague all over again.

The monks hands were lifting and pulling at his hair now. Wolfs eyes began to glaze and lose focus as his mind drifted elsewhere. Back to himself, lying under a tree, eyes burning with smoke. Of a figure crouching next to him, and forcing him to drink water… then weeks of hallucinations, being bed ridden, and a terrible recovery that took months.

There was a rough scrape at his hairline which brought him back to present times. Wolf jerked his head forward and felt a dull line of pain as he did so. He turned his head, feeling dizzy at the motion. The monk was holding a razor, and a handful of Wolfs hair. Wolf lifted a hand to his forehead, and pulled it back. There was a smear of blood where he has been cut, though he realized it would have been from where he pulled away.

The monk reached out and placed the hair on the pile with the rest.

Then he reached out and smacked Wolf in the head with an open palm, before dragging his head back into place by his ear like a recalcitrant child. Wolf was too weak to protest.

Wolfs head was painfully scrapped bare by the razor.

After the deed was done, the monk gathered the shaving bowl, placed the great tangled mess of hair inside and set it by the door. He turned to look again at Wolf who held his head in his hands, staring down into nothingness. The monk sighed, moved to the porridge bowl in the corner, and began to spoon porridge into Wolfs mouth. Wolfs cheeks burnt, and he took the bowl and spoon from the monk and began to eat. The monk nodded once, and left Wolf to his thoughts, and the porridge. Wolf ate the rest of the porridge, then lay back as he began to feel ill. He fell into an uneasy and restless sleep.

An hour later the monk returned with another blanket for Wolf, helping him back into a sitting position, and then to drink a little watered wine. Again he left. Wolf ran a hand over his bare scalp. It felt prickly bizarre. And cold. Wolf fumbled around for the mirror he had forgotten and looked upon his face.

The face that looked back did not look like his, but of a stranger.

Someone that he did not recognise, and someone that he did not want to be.

Image

*Artwork by Unknown
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

*song removed because of lameness.
Last edited by Rumple C on Sat Dec 22, 2012 8:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

Treading Water (or treaded on?).

Wolf pushed open the grimy door and ducked his head as he stepped down into an equally grimy store. A small bell above the door tinkled, answered in kind by a raucous parrot from somewhere. Great dusty shelves and tables all around him loomed with dusty and dirty junk. It was stacked high to the roof with only narrow aisles permitting movement deeper in.

Wolf stepped over what looked to be a mangy stuffed dog, which was lying with its four legs in the air. He noted on his left a collection of tin cooking pots and on his right a collection of broken pottery shards with a blue glaze. All manner of exotic and damaged junk. No doubt a sampling of hundreds of different raids on the ships of the sword coast... ah if only things could talk what tales they would have to tell...

Wolf almost jumped out of his skin when they did just that. “Whaddya want?”.

There was a clatter from in amongst the mountains of odds and ends. A gnarled old and brightly dresssed grisly man deftly stepped sideways out of seemingly impassable mountain of odds and ends.

“Hells man, you scared me half to death”. The old man snorted his derision.

“You’d likely frighten yourself to death if you looked in a mirror”. Wolf felt himself die inside a little. He had always been something of a peacock and now he was in a sorry state indeed. Patched and stubbled hair growing irregularly out of his head. Skin flaking from his nose and behind his ears like a two week sunburn...

The mans voice softened a little, picking up on Wolfs mood. “Ere lad, meant nothing by it, not all of us are blessed by good looks eh?” the shop smiled showing rotting teeth.

“Actually I used to be quite pretty myself... not as much as you mind... but then I loved an unclean woman” Wolf answered. “Vieka the bard, she swore she was clean but...” Wolf hung his head keeping his minor smirk of revenge inside.

“Aye, poor bastard you are, now back to my first question... whaddya want?”.

“Gold” replied Wolf “and lots of it”. He moved to the only clear place in the shop, a table that seemed to double both as a place for carpentry and the mans dinner table. Wolf pushed fish bones of the edge, and shifted a collection of awls to the far end. Placing his pack at his feet he began to haul out what he considered to be his ill gotten gains from his year on the isles, reflecting upon each as he placed them upon the table.

*Two score finely weighted darts which Sylvaine had given him.
*A magical suit of studded leather armor which he judged to expensive to ever risk getting holes poked in, also given to him by Sylvaine.
*Barely enchanted tools for picking locks and disabling traps. Taken from the bodies of smugglers who had ambushed himself and others.
*The womans contraceptive herb Nawaroot, from the hidden elf village.
*A small pouch of dried chilli flakes for adding a little fire to the bland isles food.
*A sodden bag of salt for the same.
*A small steel mirror which he no longer wanted to look at.
*A portable stool which had been chafing his back when he walked.
*Several dozen throwing knives.
*Two changes of Ffolk clothing he had been using to blend in.
*A deflated and empty wineskin. Wine just wasn’t agreeing with him anymore in his current state.
*And his rod of healing, commissioned from the temple of the Earthmother. It had seen significant use.
*Wolf looked at his empty pack then shrugged and put that on the table as well.

The gnarled old man poked and prodded at the gear. He snorted in derision at most, but Wolf had expected such. Standard pre bargaining ritual. He squinted at other things through a gleaming set of impossibly clean eyeglasses which he produced from nowhere.

“Whaddya want for the lute?” demanded the old man at last looking up from Wolfs assorted items.

“Not for sale”.

"Wanna buy some glowing canaries?"

Wolf simply shook his head and replied... "Gold".

The old man shrugged and they haggled for a good hour. Wolf was determined to wring every last copper he could out of the exchange. His life depended on it after all.

Eventually they came to an agreement and sealed the deal by spitting in their palms and clasping hands.

It would be close... but he judged he had enough. Enough to buy himself a daily reprieve from the curse that would otherwise see him rot out from the inside.

Soon he would be able to leave the damned thrice cursed isles the same way he arrived.

With a lute...

and a knife...

Though he had traded foolish optimism for a curse that was slowly rotting him from the inside.

Image

*Artwork by Maxpaint.ru (cropped)
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

You got 99 problems, but a noble got none.

Hey noble, with your nose in the air
Can you even see us down here?
We’re the ax in your tax and the man in your manor
We’re the chaff and the dross that lives under your banner

Hey you, with your gods given divine right
Does that thing keep you up every night?
Well, were up every eve working long hours
That’s our blood and torn skin building your towers

Hey you, with your fancy bee hived hat
With your love for fashion and other such scat
My children are sick, we’ve not eaten for ages
But thanks for the serfdom on starvation wages

Hey you, with your kerchief covered nose
With your love for filigree and petal draped prose
I lost a son fighting for you in that siege
While you lead from afar, my smooth face liege

Hey, I don’t want to sound bitter, really it’s true
When the truth of the matter is I really like you
Aye, I mean who doesn’t like that sneer covered face
With kohled up eyes and that collar of lace

Hey, and your mother she loves you, let it be said
And there nothing wrong with still being breast fed
They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
But to have your twig in her bush, how can that be?

Hey, I mean really what would, your father think?
Well, if he ever gets over that poison flavoured drink
It must have been awkward sharing a lover
Especially since he was also your brother

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this song anymore
I got distracted by your mother, the cankerous whore
Aye, truth be told, the song is slowing...
Actually I really think it was time I was going!


Image

*artwork by Uknown.
Last edited by Rumple C on Sat Dec 22, 2012 10:01 am, edited 3 times in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity

Post by Rumple C »

The Nymph.

She held my hand in the dappled sun
Her eyes opened wide
And I knew that she was the one

I held her hand underneath the trees
My breath was stolen
By one smile from thee

We walked hand in hand into the field of flowers
Time flew so fast
Minutes seemed like hours

I wove fragrant blossoms into your hair
My heart raced so
To have you so near

Those eyes, those lips, that soft spoken voice
I’d risk all for you
If you’d but allow me the choice

We spoke and we laughed and we dared so much
The promise of words
The dared promise of touch

Oh my nymph, where have you gone?
The humming birds miss you
Summoned by song

Oh my nymph, where could you be?
I’d have you for my own
If I knew that you’d have me

Oh my nymph, were you a beautiful lie?
Shall I wait in this field
Shall I lay down to cry?

Oh my nymph, was there another man?
Just tell me the truth
So I know where I stand

Oh my nymph, I hope that you hear
My voice on the wind
Calling you near

Oh my nymph, gods, I hope that you knew
That even unspoken
I was in love with you


Image

*Artwork by Yuninakucheeva
12.August.2015: Never forget.
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity*Vomit

Post by Rumple C »

Giving to Receive.

Wolf lay in the swaying hammock, suffering. He was in a ship that rolled in rough seas, to and fro. Though his eyes were closed he knew that he was deep in the bowels of the whaler, in the crews quarters. There were four rows of hammocks, four deep, and stacked four high. Each hammock moved in unison with the next as the ship lifted and crashed down, or heaved left then right (or whatever that damnable nautical terms where). Wolfs stomach was at odds with the movements of the ship.

He was in a hammock deep in the middle of the bunch, just off the floor. Wolf suffered and swung, too weak to move. He was godawfully seasick. They were only two days out of Corwell on a route that would put in at the ports of Waterdeep. Wolf had been feeling great as they set out in perfect weather and mild seas. One of the whalers had been sporting a huge growth out his neck, which was causing his breath to be laboured. Wolfs stomach had turned at the sounds of the mans laboured breathing, and had offered him “the favour of Selune” to remove the growth. The whaler had met the offer with suspicion and mistrust, but after Wolf spoke with him at length, relented, and allowed him to use the power of his necklace to remove the awful growth, and any other lingering diseases the man may have had. (Wolf had noted that his own intermitent itch had cleared).

The tears of thanks in the mans eyes had been worth Wolfs own discomfort, despite the fact he as he would have to endure his own curse another day before gaining blessed relief. Wolf knew that if he had used the magic upon himself he would not be suffering so right now.

But he had and now he paid for it. Sea sickness was compounded by the betrayal of his own body and curse. His stomach roiled again as he remembered how disgusting that growth had been. Nausea which had been threatening for hours finally rose and wolf hurriedly leaned of the edge of the hammock and vomited onto the deck below. There was the usual heaving and sense of helplessness as the muscles in his gut took over, closing his airways and forcing up the contents of his stomach. Wolf saw things he had no memory of eating.

There was a chorus of groans and curses from all around the bunk room as the acrid smell filled the air, then a splashing noise as another hapless traveller lost the battle with keeping his breakfast. Wolf overbalanced and fell weakly from his hammock. Into the pool of vomit underneath him. Someone laughed. Someone groaned. Wolf lay wishing he was dead. There was an awful noise from somewhere above him, then a sudden warm splash on his back. Wolf wished he was twice as dead.

He labored out a question “Which one of you mother lovers just vomited on me?”. Wolf decided against looking up incase more vomit was forthcoming. A reply drifted out the far end of the bunk room.

“Who are you calling mother lover?!”

“Not you, you prickless wonder” said Wolf, immediately regretting it. There was a curse, and an angry shuffle in the smoky light. Wolf was able to raise himself from his feet just in time to get badly beaten by an angry whaler.

...

Two weeks later saw Wolf in markedly better spirits. He stood on the deck of the ship, in robes brought from a man from distant Amn. His own clothes he had thrown overboard, drenched in vomit as they were. Over the last two weeks Wolf had healed his bruises and broken nose a little at a time, though it still felt crooked. There was a sense of excitement in the air, as passangers finally saw their destination – the ports of Waterdeep. Even the whalers were excited as they boasted of how much they would drink and how many whores they would have. There were ships of all sizes and shapes and colors in that port. Each no doubt had stories and wonders and intrigues, but Wolf had eyes only for deeper into the city. For the ancient streets that wind to the gates and suspicous guards and roads outside.

All Wolf could think about was getting out of the city as quick and possible and back on the highways of the western heart lands.

Back home.

Back to see his father again.

Image

*Artwork by Digitalartgallery.com
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Rumple C
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Re: Wolf *Unpleasant Adult Themes*Nudity*Vomit

Post by Rumple C »

When is a Pony, not a pony?

Wolf put a finger to his lips. Ana giggled softly. Wolf grimaced in return. He should have known better than to bring her. Far off in the distance a dog barked. Wolf grimaced further and waited until it stopped. Ana began to look a little cold. Wolf pulled her closer and put his arms around her for a few minutes then whispered in her ear. “I want you to stay here while I get the pony, don’t move, and if I’m not back in an hour, go back to that priest of Ilmater in the morning and tell him what happened”.

Ana nodded and looked a little scared. “You will come back for me won’t you Wolf?”.

He forced a smile, and wondered at the wisdom of what he was doing. “Offcourse I will, silly, now stay here and get ready to see your birthday gift”.

Wolf quickly kissed her on the top of her head and moved quietly along the rough line of wind breaking trees that marked the farm edge. As he moved from tree to tree rustling quietly as he went, he thought of Sylvaine and Tal who could do this effortlessly. Tal through his small size and grace, Sylvaine through some kind of... magic she seemed reluctant to discuss, deflecting his questions with an arrogant smirk.

Noble Bitch.

...There! The stable. Wolf paused at the tree line staring at the stable and surrounds. It seemed safe. Likely the farmer would have some dogs though, and if they heard him... well, it would not be good. Crouching low he scuttled across the paddock towards the barn. He stepped in something soft and softly cursed at the odor. Cattle. Aye, and the patch of mud outside the barn, churned by hooves. Wolf groaned. There weren’t any horses here. Damned cattle...

He looked up at the night sky. It would be getting light in a few hours. Anas birthday would be over. Wolf screwed up his face as he thought quickly. With a quick decision made he continued to the barn door and carefully lifted the board which held it shut. From inside wafted the heavy breathing, heavy smell, and warmth of a dozen cows. Aye, damned cattle, not a pony in sight. Still nothing for it now. Wolf eased his way just inside the door of the barn and waited for his eyes to adjust. Slowly he began to pick out the large shapes in the darkness.

Now if he could just find... there! Wolf lifted the short rope from where it hung on the wall. He licked his lips nervously. Horses he knew, but cows were a different matter. But what was the difference really? Cows are just slower and stupider... right?

He moved quietly to the closest cow, willing it to stand still and for all of the others to stay quiet. Tymora... aid me in this cattle rustling and present gifting, it’s for Ana, and she is well overdue for a smile and some good luck, aye?

Wolf lifted a hand and placed it on the neck of the cow...hush...hush...

The cow lifted its head and looked at Wolf with imbecilic eyes. Its ears flickered back and forth as it seemed to think. Eventually it blinked, thinking whatever dull and stupid thoughts cows think. Wolf slipped the rope around its neck and stepped back, willing the cow forward. It remained in place. Wolf tugged on the rope. The cow did not budge, but thankfully it did not make noise either beyond a chesty humph. Wolf considered his options. He pulled a little firmer on the rope, then a lot harder. The cow peered at him. Wolf imagined it was amused.

“Think that’s funny do you?” Wolf moved to the cows side and slapped it on the rump. All the cows in the barn raised there heads from their resting. Wolf winced as he quickly moved in front of his indifferent captive which had begun to move forward. As he led the now moving cow towards the barn door he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin.

He kissed it and whispered “Tymora” before dropping it at the mud just outside the barn door. With luck the farmer would see it in the morning. Not enough to replace the cow, but it was something at least. Mayhap the man could buy a proper farm animal, like a goat.

Slowly wolf lead the cow back along the tree line to where he had left Ana. “Ana” he called out softly when he reached their hiding spot. She stood up from the ditch which she had been crouching in.

“Wolf!” she whispered loudly and excitedly. “Pony!”.

Wolf grimaced quietly. “Come on, we’ll talk once we get out of here, time to hit the road”. Wolf gestured her forward and gathered her into a quick hug. He whispered in her ear again “It’s a cow, i couldn’t find a pony”. He quickly scooped her up and lifted her onto the cows back. She clung on with a giggle and nervous excitement. The cow turned its imbecilic head and looked and Ana with imbecilic eyes. Slowly Ana reached out and patted its neck. The cow looked away with disinterest.

Wolf began to lead the cow down the road, looking forward to the coming sun-rise and the warmth it would bring. He scuffed his boot in the grass as they went, trying to scrape the crap from his boot. It still smelt strongly...

Once they were a mile from the farm Wolf spoke. “What will you call her?” Wolf quickly checked underneath that there was an udder after he asked. There was.

“Pony!” came the jubilant response.

Wolf and Ana both smiled into the rising sun of the heartlands.

Image

*Artwork by Deborah Grayson Lincoln
12.August.2015: Never forget.
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