Goodbye Ramsgate

Writing Time: 25/02/2025 -- 02/03/2025

Word Count: 1,737

Themes:

older man, younger woman, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, penis in vagina sex, creampie

Blurb:

Having over hunted the behemoths in the area, it has been deemed that Ramsgate will no longer reside as a hunting ground hub. Armoursmith, Moyra Heigsketter and weaponsmith, Wils Bormen decide what they are doing once they finally must say goodbye to Ramsgate.

Author's note:

I've been playing the game "Dauntless" off and on for a few years. Love coming back to it to relax and just hunt some behemoths. I always enjoyed the aesthetic and style of the game. I got back into it recently, and learned that it was soon to be shutting down. There were characters that I was shipping, and had an idea but never did anything with. In my sadness and love for the game, I've put this together to show my appreciation and do a little send off for it.

I will be playing the game as much as I can before it's completely gone.

(Also, I aged Wils up because they think a man that looks like that is only 41?? Nah fam, he's way hotter if he's in his sixties.)

They smiled, cheering from the dock. Arms big and waving up at the Slayers on the last airship out of Ramsgate. The sky filled with the personalised signal flares as the ship flew off and out of sight.

Moyra stood with her hands on her hips, beaming at the receding airship. "Take care, slayers."

She looked to Wils by her side. Standing tall. Taking in the breeze. The sun, lighting up his white bearded face. It was always sunny in Ramsgate.

"Wils will miss them." He sighed, turning around. Moyra followed him back to the smithy. A strange and uncomfortable walk through the now deserted central plaza.

"Having fun, Hector?" Moyra asked the forge's resident tortoise, Hector the Turtle, who was barely getting started on the fruitful haul the slayers left for him. "Got some good ones there!" She said as she patted his head.

"Keeping busy, are we?" Wils chuckled. "How nice of the Slayers." Wils continued through the door at the back of the smithy.

He sat himself down in a chair. Head hung limply back as he just let his whole body relax. The door shut behind him, and he listened with eyes closed at the sound of Moyra's clunking metal shoes as she walked over to her work bench.

"Wils is sure to miss this place." He remarked.

Moyra gave no reply. She kept her hands busy by putting away the last of her tools. Packing herself up.

"Are you all set for your next port?"

Her hands froze. Dread seeping from within. "...Yeah, there's another group of isles about a week travel from here. I've heard the behemoths in the area are still flourishing there." She let out a solemn sigh. "I still can't believe we managed to over hunt them."

Wils leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "With our dependence on their aether, Wils worries what the future holds if they can be driven to extinction." The silence was as heavy as their hammer swings. "In any case, Wils wishes you good fortune on your next isle. I could not have imagined a better smithing partner all this time. Having watched your skills develop and grow, you've done the Heigsketter's proud. But I'm sure you don't need Wils telling you that. It's been a pleasure working with you, Moyra." His eyes trailed down her spine to the small of her back. "In more ways than one."

"Where are you going?" Moyra rushed. "Back to Ostia? You haven't talked about your next isle, where you'll be working."

"Wils won't be." He replied leaning back in the chair. Moyra snapped her head around. "It's time for retirement. Blades are only as good as the smith who makes them. Zebko helped keep Wils in the game a little a longer. Now, with Ramsgate going under, a little sight seeing will be good for a time. And when that's done, somewhere to settle down, rest my head, is what Wils needs. Whether or not that's in Ostia, Wils cannot say."

He glanced at Moyra. Seeing the look of stress on her face made him sit up straight. She turned back around, grabbing her tools.

"Are you alright, Moyra?"

"Uh... fine." She rolled out her tool bag. Placing the tools in their designated positions. "I just..." She faltered. Couldn't even think about what to say.

Her shoulders dropped, as did her tools, clunking onto the bench. She had been fighting it since the behemoth numbers dwindled. Since the slayers began hunting at different isles. Then it was announced Ramsgate was no longer going to be a hunting hub. That all the merchants would have to find somewhere else to set up shop. To call home.

It wrecked her from the inside out.

"Ramsgate is my home!" She blurted. "Having to rebuild after the destruction of Old Ramsgate, that nearly broke me. My home with my mother, everything we built together before she... It's just all gone! Then coming here, building Ramsgate anew with every one," She curled in on herself. Her fingers digging into her sides, holding herself together. "And now we're just going to abandon it?"

A second pair of arms smothered her, holding her close. Wils' family was behind the funding of the original Ramsgate. He went along on behalf of his family to lay claim to the most essential part of behemoth slaying. Weaponry.

But he had a home outside of Ramsgate. He had family and history elsewhere. Moyra didn't.

He felt her get heavy in his arms. Her shoulders shuddered as she tried stifling her sobs. Wils cradled Moyra, and let his forehead nestle into her as much as he could.

Moyra coughed. Breathing deep, trying to bring back her calm.

"...I didn't wanna talk about it. I didn't want you to tell me you were going back to Ostia." She sniffed. "I don't want to start all over again. But if you were there, in the new place with me, I could do it again."

Wils' heart beat louder than he had ever hammered. "You want Wils... with you?"

"Of course I do." She peered at him over her shoulder. Her eyes puffy. "I told you back in Old Ramsgate: I like you Wils. If you're not going back to Ostia, if you're looking for a place to settle down, why can't you do that with me?"

He was a fool. He thought they weren't talking about it because she wanted to split from him. That whatever she wanted to do, wherever she wanted to go, there would be no room for him. That his favourite girl was going to slip right out from his fingers.

"Since you walked in, you've been the brightest light in my smithy, and my life."

Moyra went coy and blushed. "...I like your style. I don't want to lose that along with everything else. You'll come with me, won't you?"

"Wils will always be at your service." He was desperate to get his kiss on her as soon as he finished speaking.

He squeezed her body making sure she couldn't escape from him. Trailing his lips down her neck. Licking the dried sweat off her body from the last make.

Moyra moaned in the confines of his embrace. Grinding her hips back. Rubbing up against his robust tummy.

Wils' hands swept up over her chest. Fondling a breast in each hand. How fortunate he was that the smithy were so hot he could see her almost unclothed all day. The sweat dripping down her back. The light of the fire highlighting her muscles.

In a trance from his own mind, Wils' hips thrust into that succulent rear of hers. His hardening cock pressing between her cheeks, throbbing at the urgency to be inside.

Wils ripped off her suspenders, Moyra unbuttoned herself hastily and was left standing as Wils fell to his knees, dragging her clothes down with him. He massaged and lay a kiss on each cheek.

Wils traced his finger up and down the entrance to her wet little cunny. Her fiery hair, soft and tickling her to his touch.

"This pleases these sore Ostian eyes." He said as he eased his finger in.

Moyra held herself up over her workbench. His slick, thick fingers always had her weak. Those hands that teased her all day, busy doing other things when they should just be doing her.

She gasped herself out of the thought when he started rubbing his slick fingers on her clit. His tongue reaching between her lips. Making her weak at the knees, relying on the bench to keep her up more and more.

Wils was getting harder in his trousers. Her rocking back onto his tongue made him hungrier for her. He made circles over her clit, hearing her wince and pant, telling him he was doing the right thing. He open mouth kissed her cunt, his tongue reaching deep for her every taste.

As it squirmed inside her, Moyra became shaky. Moaning in urgency. Pressing his fingers down harder.

She squealed, squeezing Wils' face between her legs and gripping his fingers. A shock going up through her entire body, making her spasm and shake in exhaustion.

Moyra collapsed on the bench, throwing her goggles aside, panting away the debris by her face.

Wils rose, casting aside his bandanna to somewhere on the floor. His tool belt falling loudly with a clunk to his feet. With a quick unzip of his fly, he was lining up his leaking wet tip to her before she had a chance to recover.

He made no effort sliding inside. They moaned in unison, feeling her lips cradle around his cock head, pulling him in. Wils began slow. Letting Moyra feel the length and girth of him. Feel the throbbing lust and desire she had been sparking in him for years.

But he was too eager to stay slow. He began pounding away. The slapping pap, pap, pap, of his hips on her naked arse.

He reached for her chest again. Forcing Moyra's back into an arch while he hammered away. His fingers flicking her hardened nipples over her crop top. Moyra still flinching at the sensitivity after cumming.

Wils panting became gruff. He thrust into her harder. Moyra reached a hand back to stroke his sweating forehead. Coupling the pressure of her fingertips with whimpering and cries of pleasure to excite him further.

His last thrusts became harder with the squelching of her lubrication and the smacking of their hips. Wils groaned in her ear. Holding onto her more desperately and constricting than his embrace of comfort from before.

Moyra pulled his head in. Pushed her hips back. His cock pulsing against her walls in his release, filling her with his love and care.

Wils shook himself. The last of his orgasmic spasms coursing through his body. He rested over Moyra against her work bench.

They stood in silence. Gasping for breath in the stuffy work room.

"Hey..." Moyra's fingers flicked his face to grab his attention. Her heart was pounding. Fear had been holding her back but since she wasn't going to lose him anymore, hope over powered fear. "...I love you." Her teeth chattered but she said it. She finally said it!

Wils gasped. Stunned at her confession.

His hand crept up again. Fingers splayed, pulling her in not by her breast, but by her heart.

"...Wils loves you too."