A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 03: Entering City

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. This particular chapter contains nudity and piles on Ashyr's sexual frustration. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future.

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Episode Three: Entering the City

"And that is how I became a guard." Gurzan finished. He and Caleldir were standing near the back of the caravan, watching the city authorities check papers and caravan manifests for everyone waiting in the line to get into the city.

Caleldir yawned. "That was a rather dull tale. No scandal, romance, tricks, dastardly deeds, heroism, or anything really. All the locations were ordinary, and the names were normal. All terribly mundane, really. My stories are far better. Plus I do magic tricks and song-and-dance routines along with it."

Gurzan snorted. "My story was true though. Besides, I did have some romance."

"Yeah, only by implication." Caleldir sniffed. "A stable marriage of forty years were you refer to your wife only as 'the old bird' and do not otherwise mention her really does not count. How is she, by the way?"

"Her last letter was sent two months ago. I already read you that when it arrived."

"Ah, yes. I remember that." Gurzan and Caleldir fell silent, looking down the line at the tediously slow bureaucrats flanked by intimidating guards. "These fellows are taking their time." Caleldir observed.

Gurzan did not answer for a moment, instead his heavy grey brows were furrowed in concentration as his small, piercing eyes found themselves fixed on the Drow. "I do believe that your dark girlfriend is in trouble." Gurzan observed.

"Yeah, do not call her that." Caleldir said shortly. Then, after a moment, "What do you mean, 'in trouble'?"

"She does not have any papers, nor is she on the official caravan manifest. She joined up after our last registration."

Caleldir swallowed. "That is not good. Of everyone in our caravan, she is the one who can least afford to be taken into custody. They hate drow around here." He thought for a moment, pulling out his own identification papers. A broad smile appeared on his face. "Good thing she has papers now!" He turned to his luggage, pulling out a small knife and an inkwell.

"What are you doing?" Gurzan asked in annoyance. Caleldir did not answer, instead he carefully scraped at the parchment, inked in three quick letters, blew on the page, then scraped a little dirt into it. Satisfied, he sidled up next to Ashyr just as the city bureaucrats were counting the caravan crew.

The head scribe frowned as she looked down the column. "I see one more individual in your party than your manifest accounts for." She said sharply to Artur. "Who is your unregistered stowaway?"

"That would be me, I am afraid." Caleldir said smoothly. He slipped his papers into Ashyr's hands. "Take care, 'Caleldra Hissael'." he whispered to her. He stepped forward, to where he was just in front of the frowning scribe. "Ashyr Blackdawn, at your service. I am afraid that I joined the caravan back at Irontalon Tower, and so was left off of the registry."

"Hand over your weapons and come with me. You will get them back if we decide you're not a threat to the city." Said an armored man flanked by two other guards.

Although he could act like a bit of a flake when with his friends, Caleldir knew full well when it was time to be serious and respectful. He complied readily with the officers' orders, divesting himself of his spear, shortbow, shortsword, and three knives. Even the hidden one in his boots. He did not, however, get rid of his very fine set of lockpicks, instead leaving them in the lining of his trousers where he considered a search unlikely. If absolutely necessary, he would be able to break out. Hopefully it would not be, however.

--

Ashyr knew she was in trouble when a woman came up to their caravan and began counting its occupants. The scribe reminded her of the bird women she fought that day over two weeks ago. This particular woman likely wasn't all that ugly, but worry such as Ashyr felt tended to exaggerate details around her - especially those of the cause of her apprehension. Honestly, she was about to bolt, and Ashyr hated running away from confrontation. But then there was something paper-like being discreetly shoved into her hands. A male voice whispered in her ear; it called her by the wrong name. It was a familiar wrong name. She looked over to the source of the voice with wonder. Cal called himself by her name then, though he completely changed the surname. He said that he was the one they'd picked up near those harpies. Then they took him away to be questioned.

The drow looked to "her" papers with a numb sort of disbelief. Why would he help her? Why did he care? Ashyr certainly would not have done the same for him. Hell, she would probably be amused by the plight of anyone who found themselves in her situation. Helping them would spoil the joke. But Cal went through the trouble of changing his own papers. Dumbfounded, she walked up to the main wagon that Artur was currently driving. She joined him on the wide driver's seat under the shade of its roof.

"Good kid, that." The leader of the troupe said, though he didn't look away from the tall city walls. "Wasn't expecting such security, girl." Artur apologized. She looked over to him in time to see his troubled face. The last time he looked anywhere near this disturbed, there were winged ladies trying to kill his people. "Sorry about the fright that must have given you." He urged the cart horse forward and let the troupe into the city

Upon entering Port Afron, Ashyr felt... uncomfortable with how someone was being detained in her stead, with the debt that simple action incurred, even with the city itself. She only sat upon the driver's seat with Artur for a few dozen feet into the city before heaving a terribly inconvenienced sigh and leaping nimbly to the ground.

"Something wrong?" The caravan leader asked, still continuing on to the center of the town. According to him, there was a place where the city agreed to let them set up.

Ashyr walked beside the cart for a few more feet. "No... just." She sighed again and looked to the tower that she saw Cal being led into.

The man chuckled knowingly. Or at least he thought he knew what was going on. Ashyr didn't much like his presumptions whether they were true or not; she didn't even really know what was going on with her head at that moment. "Celeste grew up here. She'll know where they took him. She'll know where you can wait." He tapped his nose and turned his attention back to the road. It was getting hard to hear, but she could swear he was laughing again.

The drow grumbled to herself irritably before she turned to go find the blonde. She did so in short order, and explained the situation. Celeste took the situation a little more seriously. It seemed that the other women knew Faust, or at least of his reputation. The blonde led Ashyr to a three story inn that had a nice view of the door that Cal would exit if he was accepted into the city. The rooms were cheap, and they got what they paid for. Ashyr didn't mind. All she needed was to look out the window - which is all she did until the sun dipped below the horizon.

"Faust will have retired by now." Celeste announced with a sigh. "No one will be admitted into the city until tomorrow morning now."

Ashyr looked over her shoulder at the blonde, who had approached Ashyr from behind to peer out of the same window. Her words seem sincere. Ashyr grumbled to herself under her breath. "This is a dumb practice."

"Perhaps." Celeste said, and closed the curtains of the window. "But it's not yet time to launch a rescue. Faust likely hasn't even spoken to Caleldir yet." A smile spread across her full, pink lips. "And Cal is the sort of person who Faust would find trustworthy. Anyone would, really, unless they were outrageously suspicious." The human punctuated that statement by placing a hand on Ashyr's shoulder.

"You would be like me if you grew up where I did. Well, actually, you would be worse in some ways, since you're only a human- I mean, well, uh, humans are pretty much entirely a slave class where I come from. So... yeah. You would be treated poorly more likely than not." Ashyr sheepishly decided to shut up before she said anything more insulting.

"Your home does not seem pleasant. You know, if you play your cards right, you can just stay with the caravan forever. We're a happy, friendly lot. You could be happy as well... though probably not considered entirely friendly; you do tend to let your mouth run and end up saying unfortunate things." The human's eyes seemed to dance with merriment with these lightly teasing words. "Anyway, you should get some sleep." Celeste looked towards the only bed in the corner of the very small room.

"I'll... doze. You take the bed, Celeste." Ashyr offered. She wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway. She rarely could around people who she didn't trust completely. Celeste was nearing 'trustworthy' levels, but... well, Ashyr was a paranoid drow.

Ashyr's vague musings skittered to a stop when Celeste began to pull at the strings behind her dress. Then the human turned toward the drow to clearly ask for assistance. Ashyr complied - how could she not? - and set to work pulling the strings of the corseted garment. Shortly, Celeste shrugged out of her dress. Ashyr discovered then that the human wasn't wearing any sorts of undergarments; she got a full view of youthful, pale human flesh. Her skin could not be considered flawless; she had moles and other small imperfections that drow never had. But her form... that, Ashyr would not hesitate to call flawless. She was more curved than a lithe drow. Her breasts were fuller, and her hips wider. Ashyr watched with rapt attention as the naked Celeste hung her dress up in the small wardrobe.

"Are you staring at me?" Celeste said in a chiding voice. It snapped Ashyr out of her lustful stare, and forced her to look at the human's face. The human was shaking her head, but something told Ashyr that the other woman was more amused than anything. She wasn't even trying to hide her pink nipples and pale, hairless pussy. That was, until she put on her nightgown and slid under the covers of the bed. "Good night, Ashyr." She said with a yawn.

"Good night, Celeste." Ashyr said before pretending to settle down in her corner of the room. Unfortunately, she was too hot and bothered at that point to even doze for a very long time. If Celeste wasn't right there, she likely would have tried to masturbate again. That... didn't seem like the most polite option at that moment. When the soft of half-alert sleep did come to her, visions of naked women flitted across her mindscape. They were rubbing their pale, naked flesh together; soft breasts pressing to soft breasts; hands running over every inch of every body; lips and tongues mingling together in a steamy dance. And Ashyr was stuck some distance away, unable to quite reach the orgy that was always happening just a few steps from her. Loth's tits she was so horny... why was she always so horny...

--

Once Caleldir was divested of his things, they took him through a side door into one of the towers that stood to either side of the main gate. There was a walled-off courtyard on the other side of the door. A few other people stood in a large holding cell hunched against the far wall. The only shelter the place was given was a thatched roof. Luckily for its occupants, it was not raining today. Caleldir's guards put him with the rest of the temporary prisoners.

People filtered in and out of the courtyard. Some were added to the enclosure, some were removed. The removed folk were not seen again that day by anyone in the courtyard. Presumably they were either set free or sent home.

For his part, Caleldir spent his time in the holding cell in his usual fashion: telling dramatic stories and performing minor illusions and non-incriminating sleight-of-hand tricks to amuse the other detainees and his guards. He stuck to folktales rather than his own fictional adventures (seeing as his normal silliness might land him into trouble), except for one rendition of the traditional humorous folktale that ended with the teller saying "and then, of course, I died. Sometimes they say you can still see my ghost on moonless nights."

As the occupants and guards filtered out and the sun began to set, Caleldir began to be a little worried. He did not think that things would take this long. He was forced to spend one very long night where he did not sleep very well and, when he did, was troubled by dreams that seemed to be vaguely disturbing premonitions.

An hour past the sun's first light, the guard who had been ushering people to and from the holding cell approached. "Ashyr Blackdawn. Come with me." He said in his usual bored voice, not at all rejuvenated by a night's rest. He let "Ashyr" out of the cell and led him through another door where the rest of the people had been led. It turned out to be an office and interview chamber.

A slightly furred, red, horned fellow sat at his desk and had been writing on a piece of paper just before his new interviewee entered. He looked up at him through yellow goat eyes that held an attentiveness and intelligence that seemed to at once surprise and disturb all who tried to hold his gaze. "Mr. Blackdawn. I am Lord Faust. Tell me; why do you want into my city?" He got straight to the point with his quietly deep and commanding voice.

Caleldir did not betray any surprise when he saw Faust. He heard tales of the city's leader before, and knew what to expect. He answered the tiefling respectfully and completely. "Greetings, Lord Faust. I am honored to meet you. I want into your city purely for the ordinary reason: I am a caravan guard and sometimes entertainer, and I wish to draw a paycheck keeping our entertainers safe from the pickpockets that market cities like this generally spawn, and perhaps earn some money in tips from my own modest showmanship. I really did not have any other reasons, though I suppose that I would likely have spent some coin on wine and magic trinkets at some point."

"We gladly accept trade and entertainment within our walls." Faust said most seriously. "Normally I would request some proof of your skills, but I'm told by the guards that our detainees and themselves had a most interesting stay while you were with them. I do not doubt your story. Moreover, can see the honesty in your words and that your alignment - a strong Good aura and a weak but noticeable Law aura - is not one likely to cause us trouble." He looked back down to the paper he had been writing on. "You are free to go. I'm sure I don't have to tell you to behave." Faust managed to sound extremely threatening with such simple words.

Despite himself, Caleldir let out a long sigh of relief. He had not expected things to go so smoothly at all. To the contrary, he had expected Faust to ask some probing questions, not like the answers, and send him to a more permanent place of confinement, or at very least require a bail somewhat larger than he wanted to pay. But apparently the aristocratic tiefling had more important things to do than fuss over some elven caravan guard. "There is no need. I never cause trouble. Despite what my stories would have people believe, I vastly prefer to be on the side of the law that does not involve fines and incarceration. Telling outrageous yarns is just the nature of my profession." Bowing smoothly in a very archaic manner, Caleldir let himself be ushered away by the guard who led him into the room in the first place. Then he received all his things and was set free to wander out into the city.

Caleldir experimentally twirled his spear like an oversized baton. He missed not having it as a walking stick. Sure, a wizard's staff was more elegant, but spears were still useful things to have. Nobles on horseback generally did not push around spear carriers like they did unarmed peasants. Spears had nice reach. Of course, his other weapons were nice too, but being a guard was more about looking intimidating than actually fighting most of the time. Better to scare away trouble than have to deal with it. Visible weaponry was a good deterrent to trouble. Satisfied that no one had tampered with the weight or heft of his armaments, Caleldir turned his face towards the market, thinking that the performers probably were lodged near the commercial center of the town.

But his search was cut short by its prompt, satisfying conclusion; Celeste and Ashyr were waiting for him. Celeste approached from the direction of a nearby inn with an open, friendly smile - a normal expression for Celeste. Ashyr, however, hung back in the taller woman's shadow. Her red eyes trained on Cal with caution and a little bit of that leftover wonder. Breaking out in his typical broad, slightly lopsided grin, he greeted the two women.

"Hey there." Celeste said warmly. "We were waiting to make sure you got out okay. And to lead you to where the rest of us are camped out." As she said this, she turned and did exactly as she said she would, starting down the arterial road toward the center of the city. Ashyr fell into step beside Caleldir as Celeste took the lead.

"A bit of an inconvenience that." Caleldir admitted to Celeste. "But I did not have any trouble. Apparently one of the guards liked my versions of the usual folktales. They vouched for me that my story of being a guard and entertainer was almost certainly correct. Thank you for waiting for me though, sorry that I put you through the trouble."

For a moment, he looked around the town with interest. "I see that we have a few flyers up. Perhaps in the future we should send our advertisers a few days ahead to drum up an audience before we even arrive. It would increase our profits to do so."

Ashyr's attention also focused on one of the flyers she saw getting blown down the main street. She nimbly snatched it from the air and looked at the colorful bit of paper. It told of the presence of the troupe within the town, and that there was going to be a main event on the main stage every night just after sundown. The words were grand and, frankly, exaggerated. Ashyr was still getting used to the concept of freelance entertainers. Her kind normally got slaves for this sort of thing. Or they amused themselves with more... naked pursuits. She found herself looking forward to seeing the production in all its glory. She folded up the flyer that she'd snatched and put it in her cleavage.

Caleldir, meanwhile, found himself noticing that she had stashed one of their flyers in her cleavage. She really was a finely shaped woman... He shook that thought from his head and focused on what needed to be said to her before they got deeper into the city. "How do you like your new legal name?" He said in a low tone. "In the interests of not being arrested for false papers, we should probably keep our names switched as long as we are in town."

The drow's mouth twisted slightly in distaste. He was probably right, at least by her estimation as a suspicious drow. Didn't mean she had to like it. "Caleldra" was a strange name by her standards, but it was her surname that she valued the most. Who even were the Hissaels? It was just a lowly guard's name. And then he was adding her fine, strong name to himself, a man. Lolth knows he won't be discreet with it nor give it its proper respect. Hell, he was already adding "dawnhaven" to it. It was clear that this supposed necessity made the drow just a little more grumpy than she would be. "I do not like it." She answered his question honestly. "Why did you do it?" Ashyr asked softly, hoping to pitch her voice just right so he could hear it and no one else. "Why did you change your papers and go in my place? Why did you switch our names? And why, for your surname, did you use that of a long-extinct Drow clan?" On that note, she actually had quite a few other questions for him - like how he survived that fall she saw him take or how he healed so quickly or how he killed so many orcs. One question at a time.