Auborn Streele rode her swift, powerful horse through the hills of Karameikos, leading her small group of warriors to join the forces at Castellan Keep. Darkness was beginning to fall, and although she and her men were all seasoned warriors, they were in most dangerous territory, and she strongly wished to cover the few remaining miles before nightfall, to be soon sipping a cup of wine at the keep's tavern.
Perhaps it was her haste that caused her to miss the ambush, but miss it she did, and soon her band was quickly surrounded by the shouts, and then the presence, of a score of grim warriors. Auborn's heart sank when she saw their uniforms...the silver, black and purple of Kharseron, the greatest arch-wizard of the North. Her fear, and fear did not come easily to Auborn Streele, was born not only of Kharseron's power and mystery, but of the rumours of his Dungeon...and the depraved acts which were said to take place there.
Auborn's sword bit into one thug after another, but in the end their numbers were too great, and soon she found herself bound and gagged, and on her way to the dreaded Castle Halifax....home of Kharseron the Mysterious.
All too soon, Auborn found herself standing, her tall, powerful form bound by her wrists with leather restraints to a cold metal pole in Kharseron's dungeon. Stripped of armor and weapons, she wore only her silk traveler's tunic and leather breeches, both black. She tried desperately to calm herself. "I can't let him know," she whispered to herself, "I can't let it get to me." What no one knew was that under her tough, no-nonsense exterior, the female warrior held pent-up secret desires. Her current helpless situation was causing a tingling deep in her womanhood, and she knew that if Kharseron sensed her desires, he might very well break her....
Soon, a door she had not seen opened. In walked a man that she could only assume was the Arch-Wizard himself. He radiated power and authority. He crossed behind the bound Auborn, and continued, slowly, until the echo of his leather boots brought him round to face her. He was a moderately tall man, looking to be in his 40's, with a graceful, long-legged build. His black, mesmerizing eyes considered her; Auborn found that she could not hold their stare. He had black hair, with a neatly trimmed beard showing the barest hint of gray. His dark features were offset by his white silk tunic, which was tucked into perfectly tailored, tight-fitting black leather pants. His voice was deep, resonant, confident, and most of all thought Auborn with a shudder, controlling.
After considering her for a torturously long time, during which she felt her mind being probed, studied and exposed, the sorceror finally spoke:
"Greetings, Miss Streele."
Silence.
"As you might have guessed, I am interested in you telling me of Castellan Keep's current situation and weaknesses. But we will come to that in due time. I must tell you that along with being a most capable warrior, you are certainly a deliciously captivating creature. I can see where we can have a great deal of pleasure, you and I."
"I can hardly see where you would have anything to interest me," the young knight spat back, though she knew these words were hollow.
"Excellent! Excellent!" beamed Kharseron, his eyes shining. "Precisely what I expected from the Lady Warrior of the People," he laughed deeply and richly. "This will be a treat such as I have not enjoyed in years." The dark sorceror studied Auborn for a moment, then uttered an incantation, and pointed his finger at her. She felt her tunic loosen, then felt the buttons pop and fly, the shirt falling away. Kharseron's deep, handsome probing eyes continued to regard her as Auborn tried to regain her composure, she felt her face and breasts begin to flush a bright red. At this, a slight mocking smile played across Kharseron's full lips.
"Feeling a bit exposed are we, young lady? Vulnerable?"
