Stolen Dreams: Part One - Chapter 1
StormRaven
posted: 2016-09-02
views: 3331
DESCRIPTION: Rook is a half-elf mercenary with a scarred body and even more scarred mind, looking for his true home, and hopefully his lost memories. Along the way, he meets many interesting and colorful characters, including a surly dusk elf ranger, a busty rogue who's quick of wit and light of finger; a nymphomaniac sorcerer, and a dwarf who, although stout, is always a step behind everyone else....
AUTHOR NOTE: This story is a work in progress, and my first on this site, so constructive criticism and suggestions/comments of any kind would be much appreciated. Additionally, my thanks to ProxyBlack, RustyBlade, and JudasUnchained for inspiring me, and to Vela Nanashi and Johnny1221 for helping me find the courage. Also shoutout to AllieRP who directly inspired this storyline. Thanks all!
WARNING: This story is for readers over the age of 18.
TAGS: MF
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Book 1 - Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7
Stolen Dreams: Part One - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Reginald Regulus Ravensclaw, or Rook as he was more commonly known, looked up from his mug of ale and tried once more--unsuccessfully--to catch the eye of the buxom brunette barmaid serving drinks to the surly-looking drow-type in the corner. He'd been trying all night with no luck, and it didn't look as though that was going to change now.
With a mild oath, he drained the rest of his ale and got up, bumping into a slip of a youth who muttered an apology and kept on their way. Rook set his hand to his belt and felt his coin purse missing, but only smirked and held up a much fatter one--rob a merc, they'll rob you back.
Rook paid up his tab, gave the barkeep a curt nod, and retired to his room--only to hear loud moans coming from the pile of blankets on the bed he had rented.
"By the gods, Elvira," he swore, "can't you keep your hand outta your pants for one night?"
Apretty, heart-shaped elven face poked out from under the blankets, crowned by a head of long black hair and sitting atop a lithe dancer's body with creamy skin and small, pert breasts capped by cute pink nipples; drenched in sweat and grinning sheepishly.
"Sorry boss...You know how it is. Pixie blood, not much I can do." Rook just sighed, shaking his head--He'd found Elvira Moonblade eight years ago, not long as their kind went; but long enough to forge a fast friendship.
He'd found her spit roasted between two ogres taking their pleasure with her and, mistaking the situation, slain them both; only to be informed that no; in fact, she had charmed them both for that very purpose.
Understandably irate, the elven sorceress had informed him that he now owed her eight orgasms--for Rook had denied her such. He happily obliged, and the two entered a mutually profitable arrangement wherein both profits and beds were shared--good all around, if a bit tiring.
Rook pulled himself from his reminiscence and grinned in spite of himself, his yellow slit-pupiled right eye darting around the room. It--along with the upper right portion of his face--was clearly not his originally, a fact he was rather touchy about.
In addition, he had large, slightly serrated triangular teeth with a habit of replacing themselves if lost, and a long prehensile tongue to make any reptile jealous. Combined with longish brown hair matching his brown left eye, tanned skin, and a broad physique honed by plenty of battle, he was an otherwise handsome man--except for the face. Always the face.
Forcing himself from thought yet again by the squishing and squelching of Elvira pleasuring herself again, Rook said roughly, "Oi...get your hand outta there and scoot over. I'll help ya out." With a lascivious grin, Elvira did as instructed, the night going by quickly in a haze of amorous activity.
When Rook awoke and pulled himself from Elvira's inviting clutches, he pulled on his dragonhide Greatcoat of Massive Capacity and stumbled downstairs for a cup of tea--only to see the surly drow and a rumpled-looking barmaid from the night before.
Seeing as the bartender was nowhere to be found, Rook poured himself a cup of tea from the pot left out for any patrons who might need some and, upon finding the sugar bowl empty, asked the drow "Oi mate...got any extra sugar cubes?"
Without a word, the drow reached into his cloak and withdrew a small leather sack, tossing it to Rook--upon inspection, it was full of individually wrapped sugar cubes. Nodding his thanks, Rook dropped in two and tucked a third into his cheek, the bittersweet aroma of the grey tea in front of him pervading his nostrils as the scalding liquid washed over his tongue.
Not too long after, Rook heard footsteps and saw Elvira coming down the stairs, her lithe form clad only in a simple gown that hugged her small, pert breasts. She offered a smile to Rook and began in a low throaty voice, "You ran out on me, lover. That wasn't ni...."
Her voice trailed off as she saw the drow, her expression a mix of shock, confusion, and anger. "Par'Rezzym Moonblade, you nine-fingered bastard son of a drider!!! How many decades since you walked out on me, you...you...." Apparently, her fury was too great for words, and Rook began considering places to duck in case things got nasty. The drow--Par'Rezzym?--looked dangerous, as was Elvira when angry. The barmaid had vanished, leaving the three alone.
The drow spoke in a low, raspy tone, unlike Rook's gravel and sandpaper or Elvira's velvet and silk. "Twenty-eight years to the day, sister...no need to call names." Sister? One was a drow, the other an elf?
Elvira answered Rook's unspoken question as well as correcting his assumption of the dark-skinned elf's heritage. "HALF-sister, you Lolth-cursed spider-kisser!!! And don't you act like it's no big deal!!! I cried for FIVE YEARS over you leaving!!! No note, no 'bye sis, love you' just SNEAKING AWAY LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT!!!!"
Rook began backing away actively now, Elvira had that glow about her that preceded her casting something nasty; and judging by the severity of the insults she'd thrown, the tantrum was going to be epic.
Which is why the mercenary was surprised when the drow (dusk elf? If he was half and half) simply stood up and hugged Elvira, murmuring "If I had told you, sister, you would have followed me. You had a future with the clan...I did not."
Rook, feeling largely forgotten, cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but...what in the Nine Hells?" Elvira blushed and coughed, she had indeed forgotten Rook was there. "Ah...this is my half-brother, Rez. Rez, this is my partner Rook." Rook tipped his shortpipe tophat with crimson velvet hatband, and Rez gave a curt nod in reply.
"So..." Rook said, noting the calloused hands, slim but wiry physique, and twin scabbards adorning Rez the dusk elf. "Looking for work?"
Continued in Chapter 2...