Jurmilla loved sex, every kind of sex. Her favorite way was flat on her back, her huge boobs floating chaotically as Ian plowed her field, but every other position and technique gave her joy as well. After three year's making love on a boat with such an enthusiastic partner, he thought he could never be happy with anyone else again. They had just returned to Cashawm after trading in the south; Ian didn't want to be known as a fighter of any kind, and there was enough money in normal trade routes to keep him and his ship happy. It let him keep Jurmilla happy as well, and she him.
Jurmilla was also his first mate, and the best one who served under him. She wasn't a beautiful woman be any means: heavy, with tangled dark hair, dark eyes, and crooked teeth with huge gaps. A native to the southern islands, she normally wore only a skirt of flowers and vines, but after years of living in the north she normally wore breeches and occasionally boots. Her skin was dark brown from head to toe, and her heavy breasts had huge nipples. Her navigation skills were unmatched, as was her ability to keep the crew under control. Protha was the second mate, also a topless southern islander, younger and thinner and easier on the eyes, but more introspective, with an excellent memory for details and great skill in finding their position by sun or by stars, day or night. The crew were mostly from the south as well, used to serving women leaders, hard workers who went about their work in a light hearted way that kept morale high. The three sailors native to Cashawm fit in easily, after they got used to seeing naked tits everyday.
They had just returned to Cashawm with a cargo of linens, most of the crew was visiting the dockside taverns, and Ian was pounding Jurmilla on their hammock in the captain's quarters. Her eyes were closed and her legs locked at the ankles behind his back, pulling him forward as he penetrated her deeply. Ian thought he was in heaven: every hole Jurmilla offered him was a garden of delights. She orgasmed, which brought him closer to his own; he waited for her to subside before resuming his desire to fill her cunt with his sperm.
Sweating, they were resting side by side in the hammock when call came from above: "Stranger on board! Visitor for Captain Florian."
He stood up, dressing himself quickly, while his lover put on her breeches. Her feet were large and strong, her toenails painted bright green in the tradition of her people. He was still buttoning his tunic when a knock sounded at the door. "Captain, Captain, I must speak with you!" came an old voice from the other side of the door.
Ian barely suppressed the urge to call out 'Grandfather', since it was his grandfather Eliezer behind the door in the flesh. He threw open the door and saw the old man as he last remembered him, reaching forward to embrace him and turning to introduce him to his lover.
"This must be your grandfather," Jurmilla said affectionately. "I've heard so much about you. Welcome to our home. How may I serve you?" Eliezer gave her a harsh look, and she held up her hands to ward off his scorn. "No, Captain Florian hasn't said much to anyone about his family, and I don't know where he comes from or his birth name. But looking at you two, you must be his grandsire. Your eyes give you away. All right, I'll go up top, need to monitor the deck. Yell if you need anything, anything at all." Nervously, she left the room, closing the door quietly, and making the faintest sound as she went up the ladder to deck.
Eliezer looked deep into Ian's eyes. "She loves you, doesn't she?"
"Yes, grandfather. I would trust her with my life. She's proven herself over the past three years."
"Good, I'm glad. We need all the trust we can get. Would she be able to run the ship?"
Ian nodded. "Of course, no question."
"She'll need to. It's time you left the sea, Ian, and study another subject necessary to your quest. For now, I will take over ownership of the boat, we'll do the paperwork for that in the morning. After you master this next area, it'll be time to start assembling our alliance."
"What subject is that?"
The old man looked around nervously and whispered in his ear: "Demonology. The reasons will become clear. I dare not say more, talking about it risks being discovered by dark powers, and you'll need to learn how to protect yourself before you know how to proceed."
"This is something you know, don't you?"
Eliezer shook his head. "That's why I couldn't do what I needed to after Morcombe Glen. It's a discipline I never studied and it's too late for me now. But not for you, you have enough experience to tackle it now."
"Where will I go to study...this?"
"Here in Cashawm, in a very bad part of town. I know someone whose name is on this piece of magic parchment. When you tear it, it disintegrates. Don't look at it until you're away from here, go toward the Hoglone part of town in the valley behind the Watch Tower hill. The name will guide you to the place."
"All right."
"When you meet her, after you've learned what you need, you'll need to get away. You'll need her to take an oath: she will offer all kinds of oaths to many different gods and demons. The only oath that will bind her is an oath with her left palm flat on her Tome, the magical diary she keeps in gold ink. At the end, you'll need an oath that she won't use your bodily fluids against you. Wish I could tell you this later, but we won't be able to talk while you serve this apprenticeship. Remember the oath before you leave. You should be able to do something for her that will make her happy enough to do it."
