Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter - real life and real work always gets in the way of writing fun smut. This was tricky to write, as I wanted to move some of the characters along the path I have planned for their development as well as introduce some elements of potential conflict. I hope it worked out and is interesting to read. Let me know how I'm doing - kind feedback and ratings keep me writing and constructive criticism is helpful!
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Chapter 03 - Mother to a Tribe
Tula was a sticky mess. A battalion of the Duke's own regiment had returned to the city, accompanying their commander after the successful capture of Sandrest. The strategically important town was now in Tennegenese hands. The Dirnese were sure to try to retake it, so a large contingent of the army had been left to garrison it, but, in the meantime, the Duke had returned to his city in triumph, escorted by a battalion of his battle-hardened veterans. Veterans who were hungry for the pleasures the city could provide.
The orc wench had just spent over an hour entertaining a group of the hardened troopers alongside Jessemyn and the two now headed back to the large single room the innkeeper's family used as their personal quarters. The blonde wench opened the door. Inside, wooden screens offered scant privacy between the three beds (one double for Victoria and Danton and two single beds for Jess and Giles) that occupied one side of the room. A few dressers sat next to each of the beds and a small table and four chairs occupied a place beside the hearth. On the other side of the fireplace was a large wooden tub, filled with water.
The room was not unoccupied, however. Sitting at the table was Giles, the Lady Emily and her brother Tomas, the Duke's son and daughter. Tula noticed Giles slide a leather folder off the table, into his lap.
"What are you doing here?" barked Jess' brother.
Jess offered a simple curtsy to the two nobles at the table, her cheeks flushing red at being caught naked and splattered with cum. Tula, unfamiliar with the human customs but not looking to offend, bowed stiffly, unfazed by her own state of undress.
"We need to clean up," explained the blonde girl.
"These are our private quarters," objected the bard. "Why did you bring *it* here?" he added, indicating Tula with a disdainful jerk of his chin.
"It is of no matter," announced Lady Emily, getting to her feet. "Our business is concluded."
The two aristocrats walked over two the door, which Tomas held open for his sister. The black haired son of the duke eyed Tula's naked, jizz glazed body appreciatively as his sister strode out into the hallway.
"Giles, old boy, make sure you bring them along to the little shindig as well, won't you?" said the young noble. Without waiting for the bard to reply, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Bah, you almost ruined everything!" spat Giles once the door was closed.
"What?" said Jess, dropping her dress beside the bath. "What's this 'shindig' Lord Tomas was talking about?"
While his sister stepped into the tub, Giles stood up and slid the leather bound folio he had into his tunic. The boy was trying to be surreptitious, but Tula easily noticed the clumsy maneuver.
"There's a victory celebration happening at the castle, this market day," said Giles proudly. "I arranged to be present."
Standing in the tub, Jess began cleaning herself. "Oh, neat!" she chirped. "We get to entertain nobles!"
"Yes, I shall be performing and you will whore about, I suppose," said the callow boy.
"Sounds like fun!" said Jess, turning to smile at Tula. "Good pay too!"
"I-" began Tula.
"I don't think we need to bring the orc," huffed Giles. "This will be a civilised affair."
"Oh, don't be such an ass," chided Jessemyn. "Besides, Lord Tomas said both of us should come too."
"Fine, she can come," sighed Giles. He rolled his eyes at his sister. "By the way, you still have cum on your ass," he added before walking over to what Tula presumed was his bed and dresser, behind one of the screens.
"C'mon Tula," said Jessemyn, "there's room in here for both of us - I'll clean your back if you clean mine."
Downstairs, Reld waited for his greenskin friend. He watched as the smith, Fiona, turned away from the bar, a pitcher of ale and three tankards in her hands. The diminutive woman sauntered through the crowded taproom over to where the fisherman sat.
"Dan says she should be down soon," said the dwarf as she plonked the pitcher and mugs upon the table and climbed up onto the bench beside Reld.
Sure enough, the pair had only just taken their first sips of the cool amber brew when Tula came down the steps from the second floor of the inn. Reld grinned appreciatively at the older woman as she walked over to them. The orc woman was wearing the skimpy modified tunic and shorts he had loaned her and filled out the tiny outfit scandalously.
Fiona slid a full tankard over to Tula after the orc had deposited the bundle she had been carrying on the table and had taken a seat. With a thirsty smile and a nod of thanks, the greenskin hefted the offered mug and drank deeply.
"Them soldiers keepin' you busy, I bet," said the dwarf as a group of inebriated troopers stumbled past the trio's table and out the door. One of the group gave a cheery nod to Tula as he reeled past.
"Indeed," replied Tula after returning the veteran's acknowledgement. "They are certainly eager."
The three bantered and laughed their way through their drinks as the evening progressed. Tula had elected to take what remained of the evening off - Fiona had mentioned that the weapons she had been working on for the wench and the fisherman were complete and Reld and Tula planned on going back to the smith's home to collect their order. All three were happy to waste some time with another pitcher before before leaving the inn, however, and by the time they made for the door, all three were feeling quite jovial - Reld even more so than his companions, thanks to the dwarf's and orc's hardy constitutions.
Over the past month, Tula had been training the young man in the ways of the warrior - more specifically, the way of an orc warrior. Along with how to wield blade and spear, the former chief's training had included an element of orc tribal culture; for an orc, warfare and tribal culture were intertwined. For the human lad, the experience had been a revelation. The confidence instilled by Tula's combat lessons carried over into an increased assertiveness in all aspects of his life. Reld had found himself more willing to push for more coin for his catch at the end of a day fishing. He had brashly and aggressively (and successfully) rebuffed an older fisherman's attempt to encroach on his fishing claim. He had also found himself much more assertive when it came to his carnal desires.
Tula and Fiona were perfectly frank when it came to their needs. In the physical way that orcs had, when Tula required the use of Reld's cock, she would simply grab the lad and put his tool to use. The dwarf was only slightly more circumspect - happy to announce she was in need of a proper fucking, a service that Reld was almost always willing to provide. The converse was also true - Tula expected the lad to take her when he needed and Fiona was a ready and willing partner whenever he found himself in her company with an itch to scratch.
"It's no dwarven brew," pronounced Fiona, walking on Tula's right side. "You really gotta try some of the dwarven stuff."
"It is not strong enough, but it tastes good," replied the orc. "We made 'torb', back in the village, by fermenting glaki roots. It is much more sour, but it is also much stronger."
As he listened to his two friends drunkenly argue about the merits of human, dwarvish and orcish alcohol, Reld reached down to squeeze Tula's ample buttocks. The orc paid no heed to the human lad's amorous attention, letting him manhandle her ass while the trio ambled from the inn to the dwarf's house. Even after he slipped his hand under the waistband of her shorts and sank his fingers into the firm flesh of her buttcheeks, the orc simply looped a muscled arm up over the boy's shoulder and walked in sync with him, happy to grant him easy access to her bouncing, cushiony assets.
Despite the short distance between the inn and their destination, by the time Fiona, Tula and Reld reached the smith's home, the youth could feel his cock throbbing with need beneath his shorts as it slowly inflated. The short time spent drunkenly exploring Tula's ass had left him hungry for her body and he was looking forward to satiating his rising lust, but the salacious thought was momentarily pushed to the back of his mind after Fiona opened the door to her home and he saw what was lying on the table in the centre of the single-room abode.
Reld had been inside dwarf's house a few times on social calls over the past few weeks and had always found her well-furnished home fascinating and opulent compared to the much more homely decor of his own shack. She had a large bearskin rug upon the floor by the hearth, a selection of ornate, well made axes, swords and various other weapons decorating her walls and a few large, sturdy and ornate chests for her other possessions as well as a couple of well-crafted tables, comfortable chairs and the most luxurious bed the fisherman had ever been in. On previous visits, Reld had happily gawked at the beautiful surroundings and drooled over the fine examples of weaponsmithing that hung on the walls, but today his eyes immediately fixed upon the two swords lying on the table.
The fisherman's blade was a standard arming sword with a tapered blade and a full-length gutter. Typical to the region, the weapon was a standard sidearm for common troopers and nobility alike. Smiling at the lad's eager expression, Fiona stood aside to let him past her. Grinning foolishly, Reld practically skipped over to the table and picked up the sword. He hefted it in his hand. It felt comfortable. He was no expert smith nor warrior, but could tell that Fiona had made him an excellent blade, despite the lack of ornamentation that tended to adorn such fine works.
"It's fantastic!" announced the boy cheerfully, spinning on his heel to beam at the smith.
"'Course it is," grinned Fiona, watching Reld give the weapon a few experimental swings. "I made it. Pretty conventional design for a sword, but for good reason; you'll find an arming sword like that is handy for combatin' armour - that tapered point will go through chainmail pretty well and the blade is strengthened by the gutter, making it good on the thrust."
While Fiona introduced the youth to his sword, Tula stepped over to the table to have a look at the other blade lying upon it.
The blade the dwarf had forged for the orc was something else entirely. Fiona called it a large falchion. Reld called it a fucking huge cleaver. Tula had just called it a sword. Lying on the table was a large, broad-bladed chopping weapon, smithed to Tula's specifications. The single-edged, gutterless weapon was as long as an arming sword, but had a significantly broader blade that widened towards the clipped point. Reld watched as Tula hefted the massive weapon. While he couldn't imagine wielding a heavy blade like the cleaver, in Tula's hands he could all too easily imagine it lopping off limbs and heads with impunity. He looked at the weapon in his own hands and then back at the sword Tula carried and marveled at the difference between the two blades.
"That's a real chopper, there," said the smith, watching as Tula gave the heavy blade a few test swings. "Make a right mess of anything that's not covered in steel, that will. I'd have ordinarily made the blade thinner on the cross-section to save weight, but you said to keep it fairly thick. I guess orcs are used to swingin' heavy chunks of steel around."
