Author's note: This story is a romance erotica that contains a considerable amount of buildup and before getting to the sex scenes. If you're looking for wham bam, you may want to move along.
"Adventures of a Half-Elf Harlot" imagines the things that happen in between the scenes of a typical D&D game, or under the ubiquitous curtain of a "fade to black." Its protagonist, Zelia Brightstar, is a powerful sorceress and cleric of a goddess of death who regularly risks her life and saves the realm with her two best friends, but the plot centres primarily on Zelia's relationships with ordinary people, the things she does between earth-shaking battles, and, most of all, her love life. For those who love adventure RPGs but wish there was more kissing...
*****
Belly of the Temple
"Here you go," Amara said, lifting the chain over her head, the flat metal disc of the pendant reflecting the low, slanting light of the setting sun as it twisted in the air between them.
"This will get you there without being detected by any scrying eyes. Once you're in, I'll send a runner to retrieve it."
"Thanks," said Zelia, settling the heavy pendant around her neck.
"Don't lose it," warned Amara.
"What do you think I'm going to do, toss it into the canals?"
Amara crossed her arms.
"Don't you give away any clues about where you're going. You may be safe against a scry spell now, but I'm standing here next to you and I'm exposed. We have to think that way now, Zelia, I'm serious."
"Right," said Zelia. Personally, she'd always thought Amara a little over-cautious, but she tucked the medallion into her dress and gave her friend a squeeze.
"Ok. Thanks Amara. See you soon, right?"
Amara nodded soberly.
"Ride safe, my friend. Remember, if you run into trouble on the road and need to get out of there, you've always got the bee."
"Thanks, mom!" Zelia winked. "Catch ya later."
Minutes later, the front gates of Warsong Keep groaned open and a lone rider galloped south into the darkening skies. Above, a raven soared on wings of night, following her to Faramon.
***
Even at night, the city of Faramon was a live thing. You could feel it in the sounds of laughter and music from the taverns; the clatter of the refuse carts that made their way through the city's main streets at night to haul away the garbage of the day; the scurry of rats and yelp of dogs in alleyways, and the footfalls of the night watch. On the large, dead lawn that surrounded the stark pyramidal form of the temple to the Raven Queen, however, all was ever quiet, with an eerie peace that put one in mind of the stillness of the grave. Zelia twitched her hood closer around her face and crossed over the dead grass toward the temple.
As usual, no knock was needed when Zelia approached the large and somber wooden doors, which swung open silently before her, and she stepped inside the shadowed halls.
"Knock knock, I'm home!" she called out into the strangely muffled acoustics of the cavernous interior.
She had never had warm feelings for the temple of her own faith. Like the ubiquitous masks and the funerary grace its priests wore when in public, its gloomy elegance was an unnecessary performance, as far as Zelia was concerned. She'd never liked the artifice. Nonetheless, as her friend Tess hurried down the grandly curving central stair and rushed to greet her, Zelia was reminded that there were bright spots within these walls.
"You made it," Tess said, pulling back from an embrace to regard Zelia with steady grey eyes. "Welcome, Raven Sister."
Tess led Zelia up the spiral stairs to the third floor, the echoes of their footsteps deadened by the temple's magic as they ascended in the strange amber-coloured light that pervaded the main chamber, night or day.
"Did you have trouble entering the city?"
"No. Marcus met me at the tunnels, and I hardly passed a soul on the streets."
Tess tossed her head, her hair falling down her back like midnight silk, and Zelia found herself wondering why she didn't visit her friend more often.
"Chrysmer's doubled the night watch since you were arrested last week, enforcing curfew hours. There have been more arrests, too—magic users who failed to declare themselves immediately on the new registry. I know one street performer who used small arcane tricks to add a light show to his act; he was arrested two days ago. I was glad when we got word of your escape."
Zelia snorted.
"Yeah, that place had shitty room service anyway, and the beds were terrible. Would not stay again."
They turned down a hallway to see an elven priest with snowy hair, calmly awaiting their approach.
"Welcome, Sister," said the elf, with a small inclination of his head. His name was Keeper Orun, and he was one of the highest-ranking members of the temple. Zelia had met him twice before, but as yet they'd failed to develop much of a rapport.
She bowed, awkwardly. She'd never been officially ordained, or tutored on the temple etiquette, and the surety with which she conducted herself most other places always seemed to desert her here.
"Uh—thanks for having me," she said.
"But of course," said Orun, his graceful fingers steepled in front of him. "The Temple of the Raven Queen provides refuge to all who are in need of sanctuary... and, you are one of us."
Zelia saw the man's eyes shift within the stillness of his face to regard the large black bird who'd flown in after Zelia and was currently settled on her left shoulder.
"Come. Would you like something to eat or drink? The dining hall is down this corridor, and we've set aside a dish from the evening meal in anticipation of your late arrival."
"Thank you," Zelia said, "but I'm a little beat from the ride. Is there somewhere I can refresh myself first?"
Tess spoke up from beside her.
"We have a dormitory for asylum seekers, but it's over-full with the recent influx of people to our doors. You're welcome to stay there, of course, though it would likely be on a pallet on the floor. Not that it's much roomier, but I'd be happy for you to stay with me in my quarters instead... if you like."
Zelia was relieved. Tess and her companion cleric Martel were the only ones she knew here who didn't seem to stand on ceremony, and she gladly accepted the invitation.
Keeper Orun blinked his eyes in acknowledgement.
"Very well. Keeper Tess, please show Lady Zelia to everything she needs. Our comforts here are meagre, but our hospitality is true. May the wings of the Mother enfold us all."
"Keeper Orun." Tess inclined her head respectfully, and the elf turned and drifted down the hallway.
Tess's room was small, but it had a sense of personality the common spaces of the temple lacked, and Zelia felt immediately more at ease within it. She hung her heavy cloak on a hook behind the door and set her small silvery bag, the only luggage she'd brought with her, at the foot of the narrow bed that took up a full third of the room.
A chair, a small round table, a nightstand, and a wooden shelf of books and knick knacks completed the room's decor. Corrick settled himself atop the shelf at once and began to preen his feathers.
