It is a well known fact that Robin LaRouge and his company travel the world liberating the wealth of the rich and freeing chains of bureaucracy that encumber the good and innocent folks. Warding off monsters and slaying dragons, all in a days work for this cloaked company. As to how all this evil is fought has always been a mystery, one left to fire side tales by drunken warriors and tipsy barmaids; secreted in the bedchambers of the elite; and whispered by squires that hope to someday run away and join the whimsical band of do-gooders.
Gathered here for your reading pleasure are the tales, as many as the kindly bards and lush barmaids have so far contributed. Each tale I get will be provided and the story shall unfold as best I can get it. For what it is worth, I have never had to pay for one of these stories yet. And watching the shivers as the tales are told are plenty reward for me. Should I turn up slain on the side of the road, my unrezzable corpse stomped into the muddy soil, you shall know that Robin LaRouge did not take kindly to my tales. However, I shall say that he might be quite flattered at a few of them.
Obeskor's Dungeon
Robin LaRouge and his band of merry men liberated a fortune from the hidden dungeon's of Obeskor. They survived the maze of caverns, and vanquished the large horrifying ogre that resided within. Many warriors and fortune seekers had attempted quite the same thing, only to met their doom.
Arriving in town, the company sported many bags of loot and danced with all the people they came across. A pretty little wood elf splashed the children with her wet hair and shared golden bracelets and pretty trinkets with their mothers. Their loot found it's way into the people's pockets and the churches coffer.
Robin lead his company to The Unicorn's Tail and bought drinks for dozen's while praises of their deeds and rumors were started.
This is one tale to come from there, whispered by a drunken wench as she sloshed a dwarven brew into my mug and attempted to sit on the small wooden table.
Pardon my embellishments as I bring it a bit more life.
In the darkness quiet scuffling could be heard. Soft shoes trying desperately to hide it’s coming on the dirt floor that lead through the caverns to his dungeon. He would not be quiet as he approached, his footsteps hammering across the floor as his pace increased. He could hear her shuffle for a hiding place, he could smell her fear grow as she discovered she did not know her way back through the maze.
Her female scent carried lightly over him as he stormed closer. He enjoyed the fear that his growls and stomps brought those that dared enter his dark kingdom. Adrenaline soared through him as he approached his prey. With a gigantic rumble he was upon her.
Large green hands reached from the darkness, knocking her shield from her hands and catching her up by her wrists. A squeak whispered from her throat where words of binding should have formed. She struggled, desperately trying to remember the spells that should have stopped this creature but he dragged her up as if she were a rag doll and breathed rancid breath into her face.
“Pretty little wood elves have no place here.” He hissed, drool running down his chin. Her eyes froze staring into the monster’s in front of her, it didn’t just seem that he wanted to kill her, the sparkle that laughed at her made her shiver from head to toe. Desperately she battled against the hand that held her wrists above her head.
“Struggle, little elf;” his face moved in next to her neck and she could almost feel his sharp teeth on her tender skin. “Scream too, I like it when my toys scream.” His voice mocking her, but she could feel the seriousness behind it. As if this mindless monster were not quite what she had been told. Fear froze her tearing at something she should remember but became lost in the way he breathed calmly through the nose ring he wore.
His calloused hand reached up and tore her tunic from her chest. A resounding “NO!” echoed off the cavern walls; his cackled laughter following it.
Slamming her against the wall she felt the rock dig into her skin. Her legs desperately kicking at him as his fingers cruelly pinched her naked nipples. He pressed against her, the chain mail digging into her naked skin, his wet tongue trailed over her cheek and she tried to pull her face away only to slam her head into the wall.
“Don’t do that pretty, I can hurt you plenty and I wouldn’t want you to miss any of this.”
“Please don’t,” her voice a silent whisper in the darkness that seemed to get darker by the minute.
His hand moved down over stomach and then roughly grabbed her between her legs. He laughed again as she screamed. Pulling her higher up on the wall he ripped her belt tossing it to the ground and then with a firm tug pulled lose her leggings. She kicked and screamed but he didn’t even seem to notice, his eyes intent on the one thing he had not had in awhile.
His eyes watched as his hand pressed into the soft fur between her legs. The warmth flooded over his chilled fingers, but the wetness was not enough to make his next goal attainable. He knew how to fix this, and it had been a very long time since any females had made the mistake of coming here alone. He could think of no reason not to take his time, he could feast on the succulence of her skin when he had fulfilled the other primal need that tore at him.
She desperately tried to keep her legs closed as his fingers forced their way between the folds of her skin, her protesting unnoticed. She was angry as she looked down to what his eyes stared at, the cool breeze of the caverns had made her nipples hard and her resisting had not made his eyes budge at all from the work he had set himself too. She stopped kicking, trying to recall even one spell that she could hit him with; that she did not need her hands for.
As if alerted by her failure to prevent his fingers from exploring her most sacred place, his eyes scanned up her nearly naked body to her glazed eyes. In her attempt to recall a spell she could cast in this dank home of his she had left herself open for what he wanted next. Pulling her from the wall he brought his lips to her ear and thrust his finger deep into her.
"Scream, my pet" he whispered and she did. His finger slowly thrust in and out of her, frantically she tried to pull away from him. "Scream, and you might live for more than one night." He whispered as his desire increased with every drop of silk laced softness that slid down over his fingers.
The need to answer this instinct was much more than his hunger. He feed well on the heros that attempted to slay him. He could go months on the party that had met their doom here last week. They still hung - most of them - in the far corner of dungeon, gently smoking.
