Monster Fucer - Redux

Author note: This is a rewrite of my monsterfuckers ssn 1 story. I wasn't liking the way I had originally set it up, so here's a retooling with the completed 1

st

part of Eliza's and Lisa's story. The next chapter will take awhile since I want to make it a complete part instead of splitting it up into bite-sized chunks. Anyway tell me what y'all think. Feedback is always appreciated.

When the world was young, and the gods still walked the lands, and the heavens rained dragons, and the seas writhed with leviathans, two behemoths collided. One was clad in shadow speckled with starlight and had eyes the color of molten iron. The other was silver-haired and had eyes the color of polished gold. And, on the day, the two met, the world was never the same again.

For they had command and none but themselves were equal.

Thus, from their footfalls the valleys and gorges were made. From their punches and slashes, they split the heavens and razed mountains to scatter the gods and reign in the dragons. From their rage they boiled the seas, desiccating leviathans. From their tears they drowned the oceans and quenched the land. From their magic, they brought the stars to heel, setting the constellations for all. And, from their blood they birthed the million, million creatures of the land, sky, and sea.

For they had command, and in their wake... the world was forever changed, and an age was born.

- Canto of an age

Excerpt from the Liberum Princeps

~Eliza

"I...I," Tom slurred, his bald and rounded head flushed red, his eyes glazed and unfocused, and his usually chatty mouth a drooling mess as he held his half-empty mug of ale in his stubby hands.

Kroc scowled down at his subordinate as the fat fuck fell face first into his plate of marginally serviceable muck.

Eliza smirked behind the rim of her mug, trying her best to hide the amusement in her eyes," looks like I win," she mused, resting her booted feet onto the chipped tavern table.

The motley crew of soot-covered mud-spattered miners and townsfolk hooted, turning Croc's already ugly scarred mug into an even uglier red scarred mug.

Kroc glared; the throng fell silent," like hell, you won," he spat," Tom ain't nothing but a lightweight. Double or nothing," he added, slamming a sizeable coin purse onto the table.

The supposed lightweight had managed to drink four mugs of ale in 10 minutes before he passed out, and as far as she was concerned the now unconscious miner had done all-right, but she wasn't about to tell Croc that. The mining foreman was an asshole at the best of times and a dick at the worst.

Eliza sipped, making a show of thinking the offer over as the gathered crowd of once more rowdy workers waited with baited breaths or as baited as rough-nosed and callous-skinned men could manage. There were few things Eliza was any good at beyond losing more gold and silver in a single night than most people made in a year, and that was drinking inordinate amounts of alcohol in a single sitting. She'd discovered her talent for this after she'd been dared by one of the many shit-eating nobles she'd had the pleasure of growing up with challenged her to a game of shots. The smug-faced idiot was flat-out after 8 shots, his friends after nine, while she was still going after 20. The hag had punished her for it once she'd found out, but in the end it was worth every day she spent grounded just to see Harold Sumter, third heir of Carl Von Sumter pass out and piss himself.

The memory brought a smile to Eliza's freckled face, filling her green eyes with amusement as she took in Kroc's brutish appearance stuffed into a leather jerkin too small for his obscenely bulging muscles.

She wasn't going to turn down the bet, given how much money was on the table, however, it didn't mean she wasn't going to make a show of it after all. And, as Lisa had once said, she had more pride than sense.

Placing her empty mug onto the table as the words of her acceptance slipped out from between her lips, Eliza wondered for a moment where the former bar maiden had gone off to, since they arrived in the tiny mining village.

~Lisa

Lisa bit her lower lip, water dripped in a steady staccato, the room was a stuffy muggy mess, and proprietor Jen watched her with all the affection one gave a particularly nasty stain on a good piece of clothing. It was meant to make her feel small, but after all the nonsense she'd been through with Eliza over the years, the contempt of a ruddy-faced hatchet-headed man barely even phased her anymore.

"Is it," he started, his voice sharp and brimming with irritation.

She raised a finger," there's an issue with the reimbursement clause," she interrupted.

He scowled, adding more wrinkles to his already prunish face.

"Here," she said, pointing to the already twice rewritten section," standard operating procedure is for a hundred percent of the products value determined at the time of departure, plus 5% in the event of lost profits based on the goods market value at the time of the intended delivery."

"What of it? This is a freehold contract, not some imperial delivery contract."

She nodded," but..." She said, trying her best to keep the smirk from her face," that is the freehold's standard operating procedure. What you're asking and what we agreed on are two entirely different things Mr. Jen."

"There is no..."

"There is," she cut in as she placed several contracts on the worn and lacquered desk," if you'll take a look at these you'll see that to be true, and if you'll note the seals they are all from freehold guilds, including yours. Which I'll have you know was authorized by guild-masters Renard and Jacques."

He scowled, snatched up the proffered contract, read, and looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

She allowed herself to smile then, for just the barest of moments before adding," now, shall we renegotiate."

It took another hour and a half of nitpicking and glares sour enough to curdle milk, but she'd gotten it done and aren't like Eliza she'd done it without someone losing teeth and them losing money. How a woman born with the wealth of kingdoms at her fingertips could be so bad with money was utterly beyond her, then again it was probably why Eliza was so terrible with it.

Lisa shook her head at the thought. What she needed now was a bath and a bed. The Jen's contract hadn't been the only one she'd negotiated that day, just the biggest, given that the Iron guild owned most of Iron-thorn and all the outlying mines surrounding the place. It was after all a guild settlement built with all the care of a boomtown in the middle of a desert. Though in the end, it didn't matter because, the contracts were going to make them a pretty-penny, even after Eliza's debts and the Blackfish.

She sighed, stretching her arms over her head as the cool breeze tickled her olive skin and tousled her brown locks. The moon hung full in the sky, stars twinkled, an owl hooted in the distance, and few people roamed the streets. It was a pleasant night by all accounts and a welcome relief from what they'd been up to a few days earlier. Life was...

A crash of glass, a scream, and Lisa sighed tiredly.

"Leave it to Eliza," she muttered, watching as a stout muscled man in a leather jerkin shook off specks of glass and splinters like a wet dog before righting himself and charged back into the tavern he'd just been tossed out of. Shouts erupted, items flew, the brawl intensified, and Eliza sauntered out unscathed, twirling a coin purse , and wearing an expression so self-satisfied one would have thought the woman had given herself a blowjob.

A moment later, her friend's familiar ambled up behind her, and as always the floating fist-sized blue crystalline orb was utterly unreadable.

Lisa shook her head," so," she said.

Eliza looked up, looked back, and shrugged," it's not my fault."

Eliza/Lisa

The Horseshoe tavern and inn sat snuggly on the opposite end of Iron-thorn, its two-story stone and wood frame at home in the shadow of a hill. It was a quaint little place far away from the town's bustle. How the grouchy proprietor made any money though, was beyond Eliza. Then again the stingy asshole charged a fortune for a room, even though the place was crammed, a bit dingy, and smelled like old people. The wine was decent enough though.

"So, you gonna tell me why a fight broke out at the other tavern?" Lisa asked from their rented room's bathroom.

"I already told you," Eliza replied, standing between the bathroom's door frame, her baggy pajamas hanging loosely on her slender frame, a half-empty wine bottle in her hand and her familiar idly floating about their shared room. "We had a few drinks, played a game, he lost, threw a punch, missed, and I walked out before anything happened."

Lisa gave her an incredulous look from her spot in the dented copper basin that passed for a tub, "a few drinks," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Yes, a few drinks," Eliza retorted," and, what's with that look," Eliza said," I was practically a saint," she added, taking a swig from her bottle.

Lisa rolled her eyes," I'll believe that when pigs fly."

It was Eliza's turn to look incredulous. Lisa looked back, her face a flat mask, her eyes pitiless, and her hair a maddened frizzy mess. A silence stretched between them, then laughter broke as Lisa snorted and Eliza chuckled.

"Gods, you look ridiculous," Eliza said, coming down from her laughter.

Lisa scowled, smiled, and started in on her unruly hair," better than you after Glimmer-root."

Eliza straightened," that's cold."

Lisa shrugged," you started it."

"Whatever," Eliza said before taking another swig," speaking of Glimmer-root do we have a contract?"

Lisa nodded," 100 standard crates from here to Dawn's Point.

~Eliza/Lisa

The sun blazed hotly in the midmorning sky, turning the arid wasteland of the freehold expanse into a sweltering mess as Eliza gawked at the cargo arranged before them and tried not to pass out from heat exhaustion. The heat in the dilapidated warehouse was oppressive, outside wasn't any better, and her pounding headache was only making matters worse. Even after nearly a year and a half of traveling across the freehold expanse she still wasn't used to the heat. She was after all the hag's daughter, and that woman loathed the outside most days.

Lisa on the other hand looked like a person just out for a morning stroll with her hair tied in a severe ponytail, her dress clean, and hints of her ample cleavage on display. How the woman had ever gotten acclimated to the heat was beyond Eliza, considering where Lisa grew up.

"100 standard crates as contracted," Jen stated, pointing at the neatly arranged rows of guild embossed wooden crates. The stack was at least 15ft high and took up most of the space in the relatively small warehouse like some overgrown behemoth. "Now, if you don't mind, sign here and here," he sneered, shoving several pieces of paper into Lisa's hand.

Lisa quirked an eyebrow," and, what are these?" She asked, parsing the documents.

"Insurance," Jen replied flatly.

Lisa responded, quirking her other eyebrow," this wasn't part of the negotiation yesterday. If you would like to..."

"It's standard operating procedure," Jen retorted," as per section 2D-E of the delivery contract. I as an owner within the guild can impose extra instances to ensure delivery of my goods and to recoup losses due to theft and other unforeseen circumstances," he added, a smug satisfaction creeping onto his angular features," now, sign it or..."

Lisa raised a finger," one moment," she interrupted," as per the clause, you as an owner or proprietor within the..."

It was at that point Eliza completely tuned the both of them out. She hated contract negotiations at the best of days and with how she was feeling at that moment, she could barely stomach the idea of spending another moment listening.

"I'm heading out for some water," she said, turning to Lisa. But, as always when her taller business partner got into the negotiating mood there was no distracting the former bar maiden.

With barely a nod from Lisa, Eliza plodded out of the warehouse-sized oven and into the slightly less suffocating heat of the outside, her silent familiar in tow.

The town of Iron-thorn much like every other guild-built settlement in the expanse was equal parts ramshackle and utterly uniform. Cheaply constructed wooden buildings lined a single hardpacked road, leading to the wasteland beyond and the town's reason for existing. The iron-forge mines lay a ways off from the town, nestled into a series of hills overlooking the mostly placid settlement.

Few people roamed the streets and those that were, quickly shuffled to their destination, their heads bowed, and their postures guarded. It was a tad rude, but it wasn't that out of the ordinary considering she and Lisa were pretty much strangers, and most people living in guild settlements were skittish. Besides, she could care less about the people.

She was still hungover; it was too hot, and Lisa would be in the warehouse arguing for gods knew how long. What she needed was a place to sit, some water, and some quiet.

She'd normally have just gone to the tavern, but after the fight last night... it was probably a good idea not to go, and they'd already packed their things from their room in the inn. And she wasn't about to walk that far in the heat.

It took about five minutes, but she found the town well, pulled up a bucket for herself, and drank. The water was lukewarm, slightly salty, and better than nothing.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, she slumped onto the ground and reclined in the shade of the well.

Her head was starting to feel better and her current location was blissfully cooler than everywhere else. It was very rare for her to develop a hangover, given how much alcohol she needed to drink before she was anywhere near to inebriation.

Why she was feeling hungover now was a mystery to her. It wasn't as if she'd drunk enough the previous night to feel this way. Maybe that last bottle of wine or ale was stronger than she thought.

She sighed, whatever the case was, her hangover would pass in time, and they would leave soon.

Speaking of leaving, she looked up and as always her familiar was just where she was looking. The blue floating orb was translucent, smooth, and about the size of a fist. Even after having the mostly useless piece of junk for a few years, she still barely understood how the damn thing worked. It wasn't as if the old hag would ever bother explaining shit, but she was glad to slap a bill for it to Eliza's already substantial debt.

Blowing a strand of hair from her face, she once more considered selling the thing. It was probably worth a fortune to anyone interested in constructs, especially one from the crone's own collection. It was too bad, that the hag would most likely kill her for doing that, if Lisa didn't get to her first. After all, the little thing was the reason they'd set up their delivery business anyway.

With that thought in mind, she sent a mental request to whatever passed for a mind within the familiar, and like clockwork a semi-transparent pane flickered to life in front of the orb with the word, "Inventory," written at the top of the pane with a laundry list of random items ready to be delivered.

~Eliza/Lisa

It took nearly an hour and a half, and a bucket of water, but Lisa eventually emerged from the sun-bleached warehouse with Jen stomping out before her with the impotent rage of a man denied.

Eliza shook her head, watching the scene on fold. She'd learned the hard way never to attempt to get one over Lisa. The woman was worse than a dwarf when it came to money.

"So?" Eliza asked once her partner reached her.

Lisa shook her head, her expression somewhere between incredulity and exasperation," you wanna hear about it?"

Eliza shrugged, getting up," figured he wanted to get one over us."

Lisa nodded," like you wouldn't believe. The asshole wanted to pull some regulatory clause from the ..." She sighed," it doesn't matter. We still have the job."

Eliza nodded as they started back for the warehouse, her ever-present familiar floating a few paces behind them.

"So, you ready?" Lisa asked once they'd reentered the weathered building.

Eliza's response was an," are you serious?" look.

Lisa rolled her eyes a small smile quirking her lips.

Eliza smiled back, turning her attention to the stack of iron ore-filled crates," it should work, but we're going to need a mana crystal if we're going to be doing large deliveries like this," she said, giving her mental instruction to the floating orb.

Her familiar let out a high-pitched chirp in reply before zipping over to the pile of crates.

"You could always..." Lisa started, immediately regretting the words as they left her mouth.

"Eliza's expression was flat. She wasn't about to have this conversation again.

"Fine," Lisa sighed, watching as Eliza's familiar bathed their crates in a brilliant azure light," we'll just have to buy some when we reach Dawn's Point. We'll also need..."

Eliza tuned her out. Lisa was right, mana crystals were expensive and if they were going to be anything beyond a smalltime delivery crew they were going to need a metric-ton of the magic-filled gems. But...

She sighed. Now, wasn't the time to be ruminating on her supposedly vaunted pedigree.

With a static laced chirp and a bloom of light the crates vanished, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of quickly dissipating glittering dust and her familiar.

It chirped and floated down to its mistress, it's inner light a bit dimmer and its height a bit lower. It fell into Eliza's open hand a moment later, a screen flickering to life in front of it as it radiated a gentle heat.

She nodded, seeing the absorbed items in the familiar's inventory, before giving it one more mental instruction.

The screen flickered and new text was displayed.

~Sleep?~

~Yes/No~

Eliza nodded. The screen flickered off and her familiar's light dimmed till the orb was nothing but a transparent sphere in her hand. She pocketed it and looked up at Lisa.

"Ready?" Lisa asked, a hint of concern tinging her features.

Eliza nodded," yeah, let's get out of here before I turn into a roast pig," she answered with a smile.

Lisa snorted, returning it as they both plodded out of the building with the promise of payment on their minds.

~Eliza/Lisa

The air was blistering; it was still sweltering, but at least her hangover had passed into nothing more than a dull ache in the back of her head, Eliza thought as their wagon plodded on. They'd left Iron-thorn a few hours earlier and the journey so far had been uneventful. Which by expanse standards was sand, more sand, and the occasional weird looking rock formation, all baking under the desert sun's scorching caress.

The monotony of the whole situation was utterly mind-numbing, but it did allow her to wonder about many things, such as their current mode of transportation. Giving it more thought than was probably necessary, Eliza settled on her two preferred creatures. She'd have preferred to ride a horse or one of the expanse's famous golden camels, but Lisa hated riding, even though the woman had the talent of someone born for it, and the wagon was proving to be a sound investment, all things considered. Though... she'd have gone for a different cart animal, if an elephant darkling beetle could be considered an animal.

The nearly 6ft long and 5ft tall six-legged insect was a sight , especially with its almost pitch-black coloration, inset compound eyes, razor-sharp gesticulating mandibles, and furrowed thorax. Though she'd never admit it, but the alchemically grown insect always freaked her out. How Lisa found the thing to be cute was baffling, given how frightened the brunette was of most things with more than four legs.