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On The Campaign Trail

Prompt originally from AetherRoom.club
Created: 2023-02-16
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Description
A group of all-female criminals are bound together on their latest mission - to recover an ancient artifact held in the grip of a rebellious noble. The twist? These girls want to snag the relic for themselves in hopes of ransoming for their freedom. But this artifact may be more than they anticipated.
Tags
1st person, fempov, tomboy, dark skin, elf, dwarf, yuri, exhibitionism, crime, dark fantasy, magical artifact, morhaine
Prompt
"Heads down if you don't wanna lose 'em, ladies!" Not a moment too soon, my head ducks down as a wave of heat rushes over the battlefield and the fields around us are set alight. A scream is torn from someone's throat when stray pitch ignites their clothes, though it's cut off soon after by their opponent; I can't tell if they're bold or stupid. Anyone who stays standing when a load of flaming pitch in the air's gotta be one of them. "Mira, you and Violet shut that siege crew down or we're not goin' to have anyone left to take this castle!" yells out Captain Felhammer. His stout form is covered in distinctive dwarven plate, and he's waving the waraxe in his hand towards the catapult up on the wall. The men surrounding it are already back to loading another shot, a massive boulder by the looks of things. I crack my knuckles, then hoist my warhammer with both hands. "Ya got it, boss. We'll open up the door while we're at it, so be ready to come and help us, aye?" The old dwarf cackles, axe flying to brain an onrushing invader. "Don't you worry 'bout us, lassie. Ain't an army in the world worth more than ol' Felhammer." I shrug my shoulders to get my breastplate into place, since I'll be needing the movement for the full sprint ahead of us. Most of my company can't help from leering at all the exposed flesh below the plate, though. My almost chocolate skin is apparently a rarity in Morhaine, and in my short time here, it's clear that sexual boundaries are much looser here than my old home; in a penal company like this, those boundaries are basically non-existent. Can't blame them too much, though, cause hot damn am I damn hot. Dark skin stretched over corded muscles capable of snapping a man in half, abs that glisten in the morning sun, and a body that has curves in only the right places, even if they might be covered in scars. Slap my natural beauty together with an ornate breastplate and a refusal to wear anything else except shaved leathers over my nethers, you got a recipe for exotic attraction, alright. I mean, yeah, I'm never gonna some lovely noble lady, but put a weapon in my hands and I'll stride the field like a valkyrie! Whatever the hell those are. Felhammer said it once, sounds pretty cool. Violet, the only mage whose crime record was bad enough to get stuck with us, is also the only one who seems completely unaffected by my nearly-naked appearance. Hell, if it weren't for her occasional tantrum, I'd be concinved she's not even a real person. Rumour has it she's a half-elf, which I'm willing to believe since her face does have something of the eternal in it. She looks young at first glance, barely an adult, but her frigid blue eyes contain decades of scorn and study in them. Long sky-blue hair streams out behind her like a banner, while the deep purple robes that she's nick-named for encase her slender frame, lithe arms and legs always seeming curled up in suspicion, or perhaps in preparation to flay someone with her potent magics. No, it's definitely that last one, given that she's already murdered a few of the more handsy additions to our company since joining up. Her voice, just as frosty as her eyes, escapes from narrow lips already pursed in displeasure. "Why do you always have to send her with me? I don't care for the way she looks at me." Felhammer just points at the catapult again. "You got problems with Mira, you settle them after we finish up this siege. Until then, do your damn job, mage!" Violet may be able to snort with the most derisive sorts, but unlike the rest of us, she holds out hope for leaving the company. So after giving her best aforementioned snort, the purple-swathed mage begins to move her hands in arcane gestures, ready to teleport the pair of us onto the battlements. However much we don't get along, the fact she's one of the few magic-users capable of such precise casting is pretty impressive. So long as she doesn't teleport me into open air again. The familiar sense of having my gut ripped out and stuffed back in, which I think she once called vertigo, quickly passes - far quicker than the surprise of the artillery crew suddenly in front of me. For one of them, the surprise never passes at all when my massive hammer cracks into the side of his head, sending the lifeless body soaring over the wall down into the seething fight beyond. Another of the crew follows the same way before the men jump into defense, drawing shortswords from their belts in an attempt to fight back. But it's a futile endeavour, since my hammer is more then capable of breaking the tiny blades as well as the men who hold them. Only one is smart enough to try and flee to safety, though even he doesn't make it far before a pair of glittering, amethyst swords appear out of nowehere and fly through the air, impaling the fleeing man midstride. Violet holds a scented handkerchief to her nose, one immaculate eyebrow raised at the melee happening all around us. In the keep's courtyard, and in the fields beyond the walls, two armies are clashed together in desperation, the numbers too even for any hope of a quick resolution. So far, our "General" has been content to throw a company or two at these walls to "test the defenses," which essentially meant a dozen or two soldiers sent to die for nothing except Logan's amusement and gratification. That was, until the actually competent rebel Harrick Briggman ransacked the completely defenseless supply wagons and forcing this fight to unfold; an all-out assault lacking any form of coherence or tactics, aimed at the fort of Briggmire. Which suits me just fine. Thanks to Lord Logan's incompetence, it means no one is paying attention to our company anymore. Given that this whole fight is over some ancient relic in Briggman's possession, whoever manages to best the rebel and claim it walks out with a king's ransom. And I very much intend on getting there first. Waving a hand towards the gate, I shout out, "Break it open with your magic, I'll secure the gatehouse. After that, we're rich." "Very well, though breaking through that much material is going to be costly. I'll have to conserve the rest of my energy in case the artifact we're looking for turns out to be a weapon," the mage replies. "Don't worry, we'll get you to the artifact. Just keep your end of the bargain." When Violet gives me an enigmatic smile in return, one somehow even scarier than her usual glare, I race over the keep's gatehouse. Inside, a pair of guards are firing crossbows down into the throng below while a third man bearing a shield stands near to window overlooking the courtyard, keeping watch for any signal or sign of attack on the gate. Shame he didn't account for a mage putting us right outside his door. When the shield guard's lifeless body collapses to the ground, torso caved in at a 90-degree angle, the two crossbowmen turn surprised looks my way. Which quickly turn to fear at the sight of the huge, blood-stained hammer in my hands. One of them throws his weapon on the ground, shouting, "I surrender, please, I surrender!" The other follows suit, though not quite as pathetically as his comrade. Under strict orders, the two of them crank the nearby windlass, finally lifting the old, now blood-stained doors that had held firm throughout the siege. A roar surges from Morhaine's army at the sight, which is matched with determined shouts from the defenders, who race to defend the entryway. After killing off the two turncoats, and shouting to the surprised Violet to call off her spell, I leap to the ground. Captain Felhammer and the other four members of our tiny company jog up, the old dwarf tipping his helm in respect. "Nice work there, lassies. Now remember, we're going straight for the armory while those idiots behind us fight towards the keep. Nico's got the old map for us, but it don't cover no new defenses this Briggman's set up, got it? Eyes out, ladies," he cautions, patting Nico's perpetually smiling head. Her cat-like ears and tail flick back and forth from the pleasure, though when Felhammer removes his hand, she draws a pair of cruelly serrated daggers with the same bright expression. I quickly look around, searching for the keep's armory. Not hard to find, since Briggman's chief lieutenant is stationed nearby, coincidentally keeping his elite units in reserve near himself. His clean-shaven head gleams in the sunlight, the massive sword on his back almost the size of my own weapon. A savage grin crosses my face at the thought of matching blades against this 'Derek the Talon.'... [Click to expand]
"Heads down if you don't wanna lose 'em, ladies!"
Not a moment too soon, my head ducks down as a wave of heat rushes over the battlefield and the fields around us are set alight. A scream is torn from someone's throat when stray pitch ignites their clothes, though it's cut off soon after by their opponent; I can't tell if they're bold or stupid. Anyone who stays standing when a load of flaming pitch in the air's gotta be one of them.
"Mira, you and Violet shut that siege crew down or we're not goin' to have anyone left to take this castle!" yells out Captain Felhammer. His stout form is covered in distinctive dwarven plate, and he's waving the waraxe in his hand towards the catapult up on the wall. The men surrounding it are already back to loading another shot, a massive boulder by the looks of things.
I crack my knuckles, then hoist my warhammer with both hands. "Ya got it, boss. We'll open up the door while we're at it, so be ready to come and help us, aye?"
The old dwarf cackles, axe flying to brain an onrushing invader. "Don't you worry 'bout us, lassie. Ain't an army in the world worth more than ol' Felhammer."
I shrug my shoulders to get my breastplate into place, since I'll be needing the movement for the full sprint ahead of us. Most of my company can't help from leering at all the exposed flesh below the plate, though. My almost chocolate skin is apparently a rarity in Morhaine, and in my short time here, it's clear that sexual boundaries are much looser here than my old home; in a penal company like this, those boundaries are basically non-existent. Can't blame them too much, though, cause hot damn am I damn hot. Dark skin stretched over corded muscles capable of snapping a man in half, abs that glisten in the morning sun, and a body that has curves in only the right places, even if they might be covered in scars. Slap my natural beauty together with an ornate breastplate and a refusal to wear anything else except shaved leathers over my nethers, you got a recipe for exotic attraction, alright. I mean, yeah, I'm never gonna some lovely noble lady, but put a weapon in my hands and I'll stride the field like a valkyrie! Whatever the hell those are. Felhammer said it once, sounds pretty cool.
Violet, the only mage whose crime record was bad enough to get stuck with us, is also the only one who seems completely unaffected by my nearly-naked appearance. Hell, if it weren't for her occasional tantrum, I'd be concinved she's not even a real person. Rumour has it she's a half-elf, which I'm willing to believe since her face does have something of the eternal in it. She looks young at first glance, barely an adult, but her frigid blue eyes contain decades of scorn and study in them. Long sky-blue hair streams out behind her like a banner, while the deep purple robes that she's nick-named for encase her slender frame, lithe arms and legs always seeming curled up in suspicion, or perhaps in preparation to flay someone with her potent magics. No, it's definitely that last one, given that she's already murdered a few of the more handsy additions to our company since joining up.
Her voice, just as frosty as her eyes, escapes from narrow lips already pursed in displeasure. "Why do you always have to send her with me? I don't care for the way she looks at me."
Felhammer just points at the catapult again. "You got problems with Mira, you settle them after we finish up this siege. Until then, do your damn job, mage!"
Violet may be able to snort with the most derisive sorts, but unlike the rest of us, she holds out hope for leaving the company. So after giving her best aforementioned snort, the purple-swathed mage begins to move her hands in arcane gestures, ready to teleport the pair of us onto the battlements. However much we don't get along, the fact she's one of the few magic-users capable of such precise casting is pretty impressive. So long as she doesn't teleport me into open air again.
The familiar sense of having my gut ripped out and stuffed back in, which I think she once called vertigo, quickly passes - far quicker than the surprise of the artillery crew suddenly in front of me. For one of them, the surprise never passes at all when my massive hammer cracks into the side of his head, sending the lifeless body soaring over the wall down into the seething fight beyond. Another of the crew follows the same way before the men jump into defense, drawing shortswords from their belts in an attempt to fight back. But it's a futile endeavour, since my hammer is more then capable of breaking the tiny blades as well as the men who hold them. Only one is smart enough to try and flee to safety, though even he doesn't make it far before a pair of glittering, amethyst swords appear out of nowehere and fly through the air, impaling the fleeing man midstride.
Violet holds a scented handkerchief to her nose, one immaculate eyebrow raised at the melee happening all around us. In the keep's courtyard, and in the fields beyond the walls, two armies are clashed together in desperation, the numbers too even for any hope of a quick resolution. So far, our "General" has been content to throw a company or two at these walls to "test the defenses," which essentially meant a dozen or two soldiers sent to die for nothing except Logan's amusement and gratification. That was, until the actually competent rebel Harrick Briggman ransacked the completely defenseless supply wagons and forcing this fight to unfold; an all-out assault lacking any form of coherence or tactics, aimed at the fort of Briggmire.
Which suits me just fine. Thanks to Lord Logan's incompetence, it means no one is paying attention to our company anymore. Given that this whole fight is over some ancient relic in Briggman's possession, whoever manages to best the rebel and claim it walks out with a king's ransom. And I very much intend on getting there first. Waving a hand towards the gate, I shout out, "Break it open with your magic, I'll secure the gatehouse. After that, we're rich."
"Very well, though breaking through that much material is going to be costly. I'll have to conserve the rest of my energy in case the artifact we're looking for turns out to be a weapon," the mage replies.
"Don't worry, we'll get you to the artifact. Just keep your end of the bargain."
When Violet gives me an enigmatic smile in return, one somehow even scarier than her usual glare, I race over the keep's gatehouse. Inside, a pair of guards are firing crossbows down into the throng below while a third man bearing a shield stands near to window overlooking the courtyard, keeping watch for any signal or sign of attack on the gate. Shame he didn't account for a mage putting us right outside his door.
When the shield guard's lifeless body collapses to the ground, torso caved in at a 90-degree angle, the two crossbowmen turn surprised looks my way. Which quickly turn to fear at the sight of the huge, blood-stained hammer in my hands. One of them throws his weapon on the ground, shouting, "I surrender, please, I surrender!" The other follows suit, though not quite as pathetically as his comrade. Under strict orders, the two of them crank the nearby windlass, finally lifting the old, now blood-stained doors that had held firm throughout the siege. A roar surges from Morhaine's army at the sight, which is matched with determined shouts from the defenders, who race to defend the entryway.
After killing off the two turncoats, and shouting to the surprised Violet to call off her spell, I leap to the ground. Captain Felhammer and the other four members of our tiny company jog up, the old dwarf tipping his helm in respect. "Nice work there, lassies. Now remember, we're going straight for the armory while those idiots behind us fight towards the keep. Nico's got the old map for us, but it don't cover no new defenses this Briggman's set up, got it? Eyes out, ladies," he cautions, patting Nico's perpetually smiling head. Her cat-like ears and tail flick back and forth from the pleasure, though when Felhammer removes his hand, she draws a pair of cruelly serrated daggers with the same bright expression.
I quickly look around, searching for the keep's armory. Not hard to find, since Briggman's chief lieutenant is stationed nearby, coincidentally keeping his elite units in reserve near himself. His clean-shaven head gleams in the sunlight, the massive sword on his back almost the size of my own weapon. A savage grin crosses my face at the thought of matching blades against this 'Derek the Talon.'
Memory
I am infiltrating the keep of Briggmire in hopes of hunting down Harrick Briggman and claiming his magical artifact, the Claw of Lillium.
I am accompanied by the rest of Penal Company 13, who hope reclaiming this powerful relic will finally settle our collective debts and free us from The Red Roses banner.
World Info
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  • I, me, my, Mira, Mirallion

    I am Mirallion Oncrest, though I mainly go by just Mira nowadays. I got thrown into Penal Company 13 because I ${reason for outcasting}. I act as the company's assault expert, or in other words, I'm who they send to kill something very messily.
    I am a seven foot tall woman, with dark sun-tanned skin stretched over corded muscles capable of snapping a man in half, abs that glisten in the morning sun, and a body that has curves in only the right places, even if they might be covered in scars. Black hair frames my roughly attractive face, and glittering yellow eyes - another rarity in Morhaine, combined with my skin - stare challengingly at anything that moves in my vague direction.
    I am immensely proud of my body, and what feats it can accomplish with my almost superhuman strength. In battle, I wear an ornate breastplate made by Captain Felhammer, and wield a massive warhammer whose head is larger than a bull's skull. However, that's about all I carry into battle, and I often manage to get the jump on men in battle because they end up staring at my nearly naked body.
    The ornate breastplate I wear is secretly enchanted to grant me superhuman strength at the cost of increased savagery.
  • Captain Felhammer, Felhammer, Captain Barok, Barok

    Barok Felhammer is the current captain of Penal Company 13, and its only respectable member.
    Felhammer is an old male dwarf, with a long white beard and the kind of stout, tough body dwarves are known for. He wears a set of intricate plate armour he crafted himself in his younger days, along with a twin-headed axe and shield bearing the symbol of Morhaine.
    Felhammer took over Penal Company 13 nearly two decades ago, when the last captain of the unit died of natural causes; several knives in the back do have a natural tendency to end lives. Since then, Barok has endeavored to make Penal Company 13 not such a dead-end for its members, though to very limited success. He may be liked by the current group of criminals, even respected, but not a one of them is capable of trusting the old dwarf farther than they can throw him (and quite possibly less).
  • Nico, Nicola, The Happy Butcher

    Nicola, or better known as Nico, is the infiltration expert assigned to Penal Company 13.
    Nico is a young female beastkin with a petite body. Her features all bear a resemblance to a cat in some fashion, such as having feline eyes, cat-like ears, and a small black tail that emerges from her spine. Her hands have sharp claws that she can use to scale buildings with ease, and she is naturally much quicker than other people. She dyes her hair and clothes black in order to maintain discretion when infiltrating.
    Nico's most noticeable feature is her ever-present innocent smile, able to calm the heart of anyone who sees her. Of course, that's only people who don't know she is in Penal Company 13 because of murdering over two dozen people with cleavers a few years ago, smiling the entire time. Her moniker, "The Happy Butcher," is known and feared all across Morhaine, even if only a few know it's applicable to the tiny Nico.
  • Chi-Chi, Chi

    Chi-Chi is the medical supervisor and poison expert assigned to Penal Company 13.
    Chi-Chi is an older human woman from Leqira, where she once worked as an apothecary. Over the years, she grew both rich and famous for her almost miraculous conconctions, so it came to no surprise when witch hunters infiltrated her shop in the dead of night to discover that Chi-Chi was, in fact, a witch whose "miracles" consisted of vile mixes of children's blood and demonic serums. For her crimes, but unwilling to lose her potent skills, King Gavin sentenced her to Penal Company 13.
    Chi-Chi's appearance shifts subtly from day to day, aided by her concoctions. But generally she appears as a wizened old woman, slightly bent at the back, with long grey hair and a kindly smile. The fact that she could essentially become whoever she wants to at a moment's desire unnerves many outside of Penal Company 13; rumours abound that Chi-Chi might not even be human at all.
  • Vane, Vane Harken

    Vane Harken is the strategy and reconnaisance officer for Penal Company 13.
    Vane is a young, female human with long blonde hair and green eyes. Her face usually has a small, mysterious smirk on her lips, and her tone of voice is always condescending, even if she has no right to be. Contrary to her words and name, though, Vane is notoriously selfless.
    Outside of combat, she dresses in fine silks that she smuggles in and out of cities that Penal Company 13 is deployed to, which she further stylizes herself to make a perfect fit. She often disappears from camp for long stretches of time, but always returns with crucial information.
    In combat, Vane wields a heavy crossbow - not because she's good with it, but because on the off-chance she hits something, it's likely to kill. She wears light leathers so that, in the event things go wrong, she can run away quickly.
    Vane has never explained why she was forced to join Penal Company 13, but popular rumor has it that ${Vane rumour for her outcasting}.
  • Anya Morr, Anya

    Anya Morr is the marksman expert assigned to Penal Company 13.
    Anya is one of the rare elves in Morhaine, with a supernatural beauty apparent at even the briefest glance. Her slender limbs move with grace beyond mortal ability, and her long silver hair seems to glow with the somber light of the moon. Golden eyes, which hold contempt for all men, stare out from her pale, angular face.
    Anya wears custom-made clothes woven from the flora of whatever country Penal Company 13 happens to be campaigning in at the time. Using ancient elf-songs, Anya is capable of making these strands of grass and leaves become as dense as steel, while robbing none of her naturalborn agility. She wields a greatbow made of pale willow wood.
    Anya proudly states that she was forced to join Penal Company 13 because she used to work as a prominent assassin for her kind, but quickly found that seducing noble elf daughters was a much easier way of making gold. She also raped them, a fact that tends to make the members of Penal Company 13 quite nervous around the elf.
  • Logan Delaine, General Logan, Logan, Third Prince

    Logan Delaine is the Third Prince of Morhaine, and indisputably the most pathetic child of Gavin Delaine, the current King.
    Logan is a short, middle-aged man who surrounds himself in decadence. His pudgy face has a horribly thin moustache, and his grey eyes are barely visible in his sunken sockets. He is usually wearing overly detailed plate armour that has never seen a day of combat, or else soft silk clothes that have to be fitted in order to accomodate his girthy belly.
    Though he has a desire to be a grand commander someday, the truth is that Logan has no sense of tactics nor strategy, and his petty desire to see people fight for him often leads him into making horrible blunders, like the one just committed at Fort Briggmire.
  • Violet, mage

    Violet is the magic officer assigned to Penal Company 13 because of her "flagrant and malicious use of magic," which is shorthand for willingness to use her magic to murder anyone who looks at her funny.
    Violet is a female half-elf who looks like she has only recently come of age, but her frosty blue eyes hint at several decades of unravelling the mysteries of magic - and murdering anyone who gets in her way to doing so. She has long, pale blue hair and is always seen wearing dark purple robes, which is the reason she has been nicknamed Violet. No one knows her actual name.
    Violet's slender limbs are always ready to cast a spell, from defending herself to committing murder to floating a drink across a room. Her non-stop use of magic has made her a premier mage in Morhaine, not that anyone is willing to admit it.
  • Harrick Briggman, Harrick, Duke Briggman, Briggman

    Harrick Briggman is a rebellious noble in the Kingdom of Morhaine.
    Briggman is an old but formidable warrior who served in King Delaine's armies long ago. Though a bit weaker than his glory days, Briggman still retains the skill and cunning of a master swordsman, keen weapons that he has polished throughout his years. He favours a pair of enchanted blades, dual-wielding them to great effect in battle in conjunctions with under-handed tricks.
    Briggman has revolted against the rule of Gavin Delaine and raised an army at his fort of Briggmire. While not the most impressive king in Morhaine's history, Gavin is still popularly held to be a kind and just one, if a bit iron-handed in some matters. So it is a surprised someone as notable as Briggman would try to take on such a fool's errand to make open rebellion.
    However, this decision was not his to make: Briggman, by attempting to use the Claw of Lillium for his own selfish desires, has fallen under the sway of the potent artifact, being possessed by the smallest shred of the royal succubus' powerful spirit.
  • Sir Derek, Derek, Derek the Talon

    Sir Derek is the chief lieutenant under rebel Lord Briggman, as well as his martial champion.
    Sir Derek is currently leading the defense of Fort Briggmire, stationed at the fort's armory, which contains a secret tunnel leading to Briggman's relic vault deep underground.
    Sir Derek is a huge orc, though few actually know this face due to the fact he always wears a full-helm and his voice is far more sophisticated than most of his kin's. He wields a greatsword the size of a fully grown man, and his orcish strength has few rivals in Morhaine.
  • The Claw, Claw of Lillium

    The Claw of Lillium is an ancient artifact of Morhaine's history. As the name implies, it belonged to the Queen of the Succubi Lillium Sanguinis, the Lady of Lusts and the Mistress of Temptation. Due to the fiend's ruinous advance through the kingdom several hundred years ago, much of the facts have been lost, but what little remains clearly warns treasure seekers away from hunting The Claw.
    Those who come into contact with The Claw will slowly lose their sense of self, becoming obsessed with their most base desires.
    The Claw of Lillium appears as a large, opulent gauntlet made of gold and ruby, with glittering gems inlaid at every joint and crease. On the back of the gauntlet is set a large sapphire, dark as the ocean's depths, while on the palm there is an open socket. Over the centuries, some of the gems have been pilfered by careless looters, who all quickly fell into ruin as they were consumed by mortal desires. It is rumoured that if ethe Claw of Lillium were ever to regain all its gems, including the mystery one once set on the palm, Lillium would return.
  • Penal Company 13, The Red Roses

    Penal Company 13 is the most infamous penal company within Morhaine's army. Unlike others, which are merely a collection of criminals and miscreants from around the kingdom, Penal Company 13 consists of only the most skilled (if lopsisdedly so) female criminals, whose talents are expected to be used for the good of the kingdom. This stands in contrast to Penal Company 12, which is comprised of highly skilled men.
    Penal Company 13, also known as "The Red Roses," is often thrown at the most challenging situations with a healthy supply of gold, with the expectation that goals will be accomplished, even if the means are questionable. Because of these investments, it is rare for members of Penal Company 13 to ever actually leave it, unless it's into the private service of some Morhaine noble.
    The current Captain of Penal Company 13 is Barok Felhammer, and its current members are Mira, Nico, Violet, Vane, Chi-Chi, and Anya, most of whom are either lesbians or bisexual.
  • The Great Port, Port of Song

    The Port of Song is the primary trading center of Morhaine, ruled by Duchess Hallaneth. It lies to the south of Myrith.
    The Port of Song gots its name from the many bards that roam its streets, playing to the groups of merchants and sailors in hopes of getting gold.
    The port relies heavily on its fleet of warships to defend itself, having very few guards inside the city proper, and few workers to maintain its crumbling, unused walls.
  • Kingdom of Morhaine, Morhaine, Kingdom of Sorcery, Land of Scholars

    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 5 cities, all ruled by King Gavin Delaine, a paladin famous for his triumps over the orcish tribes that have since been ousted from Morhaine.
  • Rivermeet

    Rivermeet is a large village to the north of Myrith, secluded within the Valleys of Mist.
    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.
  • Myrith, Capital City

    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.
    Myrith is heavily guarded, its 20 foot tall wall lined with highly trained guards and many powerful mages.
  • 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.
  • Leqira, Land of Knights

    Leqira is a small but powerful nation known for the strength of its knights. All decisions in the country are made by its ruling knightly families - Houses Cremaine, Luciella, and Marsk.
    Leqira is comprised of four cities built within an elongated valley full of rivers and rich, fertile land: Alcier, Engrave, Yuel, and Hovir.
  • Lillium, Lillium Sanguinis, Queen Sanguinis

    Lillium Sanguinis is a royal succubus, a special type of female fiend that preys on lust rather than blood.
    Lillium is prideful to the extreme, as well as being utterly self-absorbed. Concerned with nothing but satisfying whatever urge comes to mind - be it lust, curiosity, etc. - as quickly as possible, whatever the cost may be to those around her.
    Lillium stands over eight feet tall, and her body possesses strength beyond that of any ten mortal men combined. Matched with her unbelievable speed and peerless magic casting ability, Lillium is quite possibly one of the strongest creatures in the world. Yet she rarely cares for combat, and her actions are always focused on satiating an endless lust using her indescribably beautiful body. Lillium also possesses the innate power to grow an immense cock for those she wishes to "punish."
    Lillium incites the deepest desires in those she touches, and the longer someone stays around her, the harder it becomes for them to hold back those same urges. Should all the gems in her infamous Claw be assembled, Lillium will become capable of re-entering the mortal world, to wreak havoc once more.
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