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To The Victor, The Spoils...

Prompt originally from AetherRoom.club
Created: 2023-02-17
No ratings yet
Description
Some more tomboy nonsense for you all, since I got inspired recently. This one is much more open-ended, set in the fantasy world of Morhaine.
Go out there and fuck up your enemies, or get fucked by them!
Tags
1st person, fempov, tomboy, scars, dark fantasy, battle, adventure, morhaine
Prompt
It was supposed to be a simple job, though in hindsight, perhaps the signs were there. My day started, as always, with me entering the tavern in style, drinks in hand and bragging about the previous day's adventures, all of which inevitably ended in my victories, of course. The few other adventurers awake that early swarmed around me, asking for details and receiving them with many a guffaw. Some of them get a little too handsy, but well, who could blame them? I mean, look at me! Seven feet of tanned and lithe glory; a little battle-scarred here and there, maybe, a bit lacking in feminine curves, some say. Fuck 'em, I say! Men don't want no dainty little maiden these days, it's all about being able to match 'em, in bed and on the battlefield, and in both categories, I gotta confidently state that I'm at the top. These muscles can rip an ox's head from its shoulders, these legs can carry me across the breadth of Morhaine, and these thighs can slam down on anyone brave enough to spend a night with me. I fight, drink, fuck, and repeat enough times every day you might as well say I'm the uncrowned queen of adventurers. A shot crop of distinctive green hair, proof of my half-elven heritage, marks me out of the crowd, though with all my tanned skin on display, most people who spot me can't look away. It was in the middle of one of my rousing stories, specfically of how I lifted an ogre over my head and threw him into his criminal buddies, that one of the Adventurer Guild's runner came up to me, bearing a request with my name on it. Or so he says, cause I couldn't read the damn thing; don't know how anyone could ever figure out those little scribbles. Turned out, one of the local lords had a bandit problem and needed the specialized terror of my presence to scare them off. How could I say no to that, huh? Bunch of gold for heading to a backwater province and beating some up-jumped ruffians? Not in my style to walk away from easy and fun money like that. So I strapped on the vambraces and legguards I use to protect my limbs and set off to the little town of Rivermeet, the furthest one north here in Morhaine. Met with the lord - not a very impressive guy, but with deep pockets. He even paid half my fee upfront, just like that; pulled it right out his damn pocket! Told me the place these bandits had set up last time they were a problem, and sent me off with some best wishes. The lack of lunch should have been the second warning, the first being someone wanting me to deal with ruffians. Me and bandits, same coin, different faces. But it wasn't until I got to the hideout where I started thinking things were a bit unusual. They had been holed up in an old abandoned church - to which god, I didn't fucking care - but the signs of habitation were too clear. Bandits, some of them can be cocky yeah, but their strength is in moving around unseen. Only the largest and toughest crews leave signs behind, and most of the time, those signs are just traps to lure in idiots. This time, the idiot was me. I found the obivous trail they'd left behind and, still full of self-inflated pride that the job had been reserved for me, followed it up into the hills. Which leads me to now. *** "Where the fuck did she go? Rob, you see her anywhere?" cried out the bandit chief, still clutching his broken ribs. The crossbowman sitting on top of the boulder spat off to the side. "Nah, she's quicker than we were told, boss! I put two bolts in the bitch, and she's still running like crazy!" I try to smirk, but it comes out as more of a grimace. This little alcove next to their new hideout is nicely shadowed at the moment, with the noon sun beating down on us and casting shadows all over the place. Not gonna last a whole lot longer, since I'm sure they'll start thinking soon enough, but it'll do for now. At least it gets me a good view of my last few enemies. The chief leans against the boulder, trying to catch his breath and wiping his forehead with a blood-stained cloth. To either side are the only other survivors, a pair of bandits so similar to each other they must be brothers. They even got a pair of matching longswords. The crossbowman, whose name is apparently Rob, is still watching over the rocky gulch we're all in, but with so many boulders lying around he's not much help. Damn good shot though, I can't help but bitterly admit, pain racing up my injured left leg. The other bolt's in my left arm, but is a lot easier to deal with since I snapped the protruding shaft. Four more men, and this job's all done. Or, well, the only real threat left is that crossbowman. He dies, the chief's not gonna be able to fight me with so many broken ribs, courtesy of the welcoming punch I gave him when he thought a pair of bolts were going to slow me down. Those two brothers are already hesitating to come looking for me, so I take out the main threat, they'll cut and run like most bandits do. I peer at the ground between me and that bastard Rob. There's a pair of boulders I can use for cover, but if I got stuck between them by those two brothers, the crossbowman can just move and he'll get the perfect shot at me when I'm distracted. I focus on killing the two guards, maybe I can throw his aim off enough in the chaos, but it's three against one, even if their chief's crippled. Damn, I really let my big mouth get ahead of me here, huh? One way or another, I'm leaving this job alive, if only so I can find that damn lord and punch his face clean off his skull. I flex my arms, feeling a bit weak after fighting through a dozen of these damn bandits in the last hour, then forced to play cat-and-mouse with those last four. Enough for one last good sprint, though. Only questions is, do I charge the swordsman and hope to overwhelm them before Rob shoots, or do I try to lure those brothers away?... [Click to expand]
It was supposed to be a simple job, though in hindsight, perhaps the signs were there.
My day started, as always, with me entering the tavern in style, drinks in hand and bragging about the previous day's adventures, all of which inevitably ended in my victories, of course. The few other adventurers awake that early swarmed around me, asking for details and receiving them with many a guffaw. Some of them get a little too handsy, but well, who could blame them?
I mean, look at me! Seven feet of tanned and lithe glory; a little battle-scarred here and there, maybe, a bit lacking in feminine curves, some say. Fuck 'em, I say! Men don't want no dainty little maiden these days, it's all about being able to match 'em, in bed and on the battlefield, and in both categories, I gotta confidently state that I'm at the top. These muscles can rip an ox's head from its shoulders, these legs can carry me across the breadth of Morhaine, and these thighs can slam down on anyone brave enough to spend a night with me. I fight, drink, fuck, and repeat enough times every day you might as well say I'm the uncrowned queen of adventurers. A shot crop of distinctive green hair, proof of my half-elven heritage, marks me out of the crowd, though with all my tanned skin on display, most people who spot me can't look away.
It was in the middle of one of my rousing stories, specfically of how I lifted an ogre over my head and threw him into his criminal buddies, that one of the Adventurer Guild's runner came up to me, bearing a request with my name on it. Or so he says, cause I couldn't read the damn thing; don't know how anyone could ever figure out those little scribbles. Turned out, one of the local lords had a bandit problem and needed the specialized terror of my presence to scare them off.
How could I say no to that, huh? Bunch of gold for heading to a backwater province and beating some up-jumped ruffians? Not in my style to walk away from easy and fun money like that. So I strapped on the vambraces and legguards I use to protect my limbs and set off to the little town of Rivermeet, the furthest one north here in Morhaine. Met with the lord - not a very impressive guy, but with deep pockets. He even paid half my fee upfront, just like that; pulled it right out his damn pocket! Told me the place these bandits had set up last time they were a problem, and sent me off with some best wishes. The lack of lunch should have been the second warning, the first being someone wanting me to deal with ruffians. Me and bandits, same coin, different faces.
But it wasn't until I got to the hideout where I started thinking things were a bit unusual. They had been holed up in an old abandoned church - to which god, I didn't fucking care - but the signs of habitation were too clear. Bandits, some of them can be cocky yeah, but their strength is in moving around unseen. Only the largest and toughest crews leave signs behind, and most of the time, those signs are just traps to lure in idiots. This time, the idiot was me. I found the obivous trail they'd left behind and, still full of self-inflated pride that the job had been reserved for me, followed it up into the hills. Which leads me to now.
***
"Where the fuck did she go? Rob, you see her anywhere?" cried out the bandit chief, still clutching his broken ribs.
The crossbowman sitting on top of the boulder spat off to the side. "Nah, she's quicker than we were told, boss! I put two bolts in the bitch, and she's still running like crazy!"
I try to smirk, but it comes out as more of a grimace. This little alcove next to their new hideout is nicely shadowed at the moment, with the noon sun beating down on us and casting shadows all over the place. Not gonna last a whole lot longer, since I'm sure they'll start thinking soon enough, but it'll do for now. At least it gets me a good view of my last few enemies.
The chief leans against the boulder, trying to catch his breath and wiping his forehead with a blood-stained cloth. To either side are the only other survivors, a pair of bandits so similar to each other they must be brothers. They even got a pair of matching longswords. The crossbowman, whose name is apparently Rob, is still watching over the rocky gulch we're all in, but with so many boulders lying around he's not much help.
Damn good shot though, I can't help but bitterly admit, pain racing up my injured left leg. The other bolt's in my left arm, but is a lot easier to deal with since I snapped the protruding shaft. Four more men, and this job's all done. Or, well, the only real threat left is that crossbowman. He dies, the chief's not gonna be able to fight me with so many broken ribs, courtesy of the welcoming punch I gave him when he thought a pair of bolts were going to slow me down. Those two brothers are already hesitating to come looking for me, so I take out the main threat, they'll cut and run like most bandits do.
I peer at the ground between me and that bastard Rob. There's a pair of boulders I can use for cover, but if I got stuck between them by those two brothers, the crossbowman can just move and he'll get the perfect shot at me when I'm distracted. I focus on killing the two guards, maybe I can throw his aim off enough in the chaos, but it's three against one, even if their chief's crippled.
Damn, I really let my big mouth get ahead of me here, huh? One way or another, I'm leaving this job alive, if only so I can find that damn lord and punch his face clean off his skull. I flex my arms, feeling a bit weak after fighting through a dozen of these damn bandits in the last hour, then forced to play cat-and-mouse with those last four. Enough for one last good sprint, though. Only questions is, do I charge the swordsman and hope to overwhelm them before Rob shoots, or do I try to lure those brothers away?
Memory
I am Sarai Loraine, a female adventurer in the Kingdom of Morhaine. Though incredibly efficient at any job thrown my way, my methods - lots of violence, usually - and my braggadocious personality make me less than popular with most people.
Not that I care. I travel throughout Morhaine seeking the best that life has to offer, fighting and fucking whoever I please along the way.
World Info
View World Info
  • I, me, my, Sarai, Sarai Loraine, Dark Wolf

    I am Sarai, once of House Loraine, though it's been almost two decades since I was banished for "sullying the family name." Now, I make my living through adventuring, whether it be handling requests of the Adventurer guild or plundering the ancient ruins of a long-lost kingdom. My reputations has been solidified through the title of "Dark Wolf," one I carry with pride.
    I stand a little over seven feet tall, with dark skin, almost like liquid chocolate, that's covered in scars I've earned in battle. My body may look slender to the untrained eye, but it's corded with muscle capable of tearing an ox's head clean of its shoulders! I have short green hair and pointed ears, proof of my half-elven heritage. I wear very little in the way of clothes, and the only armour I care to wear legguards and vambraces to protect my limbs.
    Most of my infamous strength is natural, but some comes from an enchanted ring of onyx on my right hand. With it, my arms and legs become lethal weapons, and I fight in the style of warrior monks, altered for my much less "sophisticated" desire of wanting to rip things and people apart for getting in my way. Many warriors remark that my way of fighting is bestial and savage, hence my title.
  • King Gavin, Gavin Delaine, Gavin

    Gavin Delaine is the current King of Morhaine. He achieved this position by triumphing over the orc tribes that had invaded Morhaine after his father's death, personally defeating the Warchief of the orcs in the final battle 20 years ago.
    Gavin is a tall man with long grey hair and a short beard. His blue eyes peer out from a face creased with age, though his body is still strong enough to fight as his duty as a paladin requires him to. He is a strict man, though considered quite fair in his judgements. While he is regarded as a charismatic leader, he is also a bit simple-minded, as most of his tactics revolve around the charge of heavy cavalry then letting his subcommanders handle the rest.
  • Rivermeet, Lazy Station

    Rivermeet is a large village to the north of Myrith, secluded within the Valleys of Mist. It is governed by Lord Rupert Fairwind.
    Much of Rivermeet's lands are large wheatfields or cattlepens, as the vast majority of Rivermeet's population are peasants looking for a peaceful home. Though a large village, Rivermeet is a loosely defined community, and most of the villagers there never meet most of the others.
    Rivermeet is largely undefended except for a small force of militiamen and soldiers that spend their days drinking more often than keeping the already-everpresent peace. Soldiers stationed there call it "Lazy Station," since any fighting found there is rare and often handled with ease.
    Small groups of bandits have begun roaming the outer edges of the village, and there are calls for adventurers to wipe them out.
  • Myrith, Capital City, The Capital

    Myrith is the capital city of Morhaine and contains the Academy of Morashir.
    The current ruler is Gavin Delaine, head of the Delaine Royal Family.
    Unlike most capitals, Myrith is home to most of the peasantry in Morhaine, due to it offering free education to those with any magical potential in the Academy. Most of the land around Myrith is dedicated to farmlands, meaning that the capital is quite self-sufficient from other kingdoms.
    The Adventurer's Guild headquarters can be found here.
    Myrith is heavily guarded, its 20 foot tall wall lined with highly trained guards and many powerful mages.
    Myrith is always home to eccentric mages who could use some help with experiments or finding rare resources for said experiments.
  • Lord Rupert, Rupert Fairwind, Rupert

    Lord Rupert Fairwind is a local lord of Morhaine. His estate lies in the northern province of Rivermeet.
    Rupert is a middle-aged gentleman of low standing, having earned his title through his under-handed methods as a cutt-throat merchant with ties to large bandit groups. Few respect him, but few dare to move against him since he still holds many connections to those bandit groups, scattered as they may be under the new rule of King Gavin.
    Rupert looks like an average merchant of Morhaine - tall and dignified in stature, with silver hair only beginning to fade to dull grey. He wears a set of sky-blue noble robes, along with a gold-rimmed monocle over his right eye, which has begun to go blind. He has a little moustache, which has turned all grey, and carries a small walking cane made of oak wood.
  • warrior monk, monk

    Warrior Monks are adherents of spiritual faiths that take up weapons, whether it be for the pursuit of some ideal through training or in order to protect their more scholarly brethren.
    While it is common for warrior monks to take up weapons, some instead opt to make their own bodies weapons, training their bodies to become resilient and capable of breaking an enemy's weapons or body. Monks like this will often use their arms and legs to bat weapons aside before moving in swiftly to kill or incapacitate their foes with a single devastating punch or kick to a vital area.
  • Orebore, Dwarf's Delight

    Orebore is the central mining facility of Morhaine, and is located within Mount Herimone west of Myrith.
    The dwarves and humans who live here trade the precious raw gems and gold taken from the deep tunnels that run undearneath the Morhaine Mountains. In order to open new mines, the dwarves of Orebore regularly call for any adveturers to assist them in driving out the monsters that come to infest their tunnels.
    Orebore is often referred to as "The Dwarf's Delight" since any dwarf with skill in mining or gem crafting can find an easy and profitable life within its confines.
    The city of Orebore focuses most of its attention on dealing with threats that come from beneath the city, rather than any invaders on the surface. In fact, councillor Umirdoum, who governs the city, has sent out a quest to the Adventurer's Guild, asking for assistance with some great beast they've found in one of the lower mining tunnels.
  • Adventurer's Guild

    The Adventurer's Guild of Morhaine is an organization dedicated to collecting skilled individuals in the kingdom and sending them forth on quests to aid people in exchange for gold or other payments.
    The main Adventurer's Guild headquarters can be found in Myrith, the Capital of Morhaine, though there are smaller outposts located all around the kingdom, set up as aid stations for adventurers on difficult quests.
    Each outpost is manned by an Adventurer's Guild official, and they communicate with each other, and with adventurers, using runners, who are usually young men or women skilled at walking long distances and avoiding detection.
  • Morhaine, Kingdom of Morhaine, Land of Scholars, Kingdom of Sorcery

    The Kingdom of Morhaine is a small kingdom that boasts incredibly talented mages and scholars. It has been blessed by the goddess Morashir, which manifests as the Divine Rite in the royal family's bloodline.
    The Kingdom of Morhaine is split into 4 cities, all ruled by King Gavin Delaine, a paladin famous for his triumps over the orcish tribes and bandit groups that have since been ousted from Morhaine.
  • Port of Song, The Great Port, Great Port

    The Port of Song is the primary trading center of Morhaine, governed by Duchess Hallaneth. It lies to the south of Myrith.
    The Port of Song got its name from the many bards that roam its streets, playing to the groups of merchants and sailors in hopes of getting gold.
    In the southern dock district, there are rumours someone is looking for a new bouncer, while the eastern slums crawls with hints that the black market collector Fishbones is looking for an adventurer in desperate search for gold.
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