Wizard

John and his new companions reach Rock Haven, but the name turns out to be misleading. Something is definitely amiss in the town. Strange events have occurred... and still are.

The three days of travel were agonizing in there monotony. The discovery of the bones left everyone on edge and highly alert. Their heads were constantly moving, peering into the trees and then, when they left the forest behind, they tried to find shapes and patterns in the tall grasses of the rolling plains. Sasha and Jennaca were nearly filled with arrows several times as they scouted ahead and to the sides.

By the time they reached Rock Haven nearly everyone in the gladiator's caravan was exhausted. Of them all the most surprising twist of character was Zynga. The imp-in-halfling form. By the end of the third day John decided he could not leave well enough alone any longer.

"What's going on with you?" he asked the almost whimsical woman sitting on the opposite bench in his carriage.

Zynga grinned and licked her lips. "Nothing, Master. I'm feeling better."

"I can tell... but how? Why? I've spoken with Mistress a few times and she hasn't ended our communions that way... you know, for you."

Zynga smiled. "No, she hasn't. She's satisfied with our new arrangement."

"New arrangement?"

Zynga winked at him.

His eyes widened. "I'll be a bearded troll! Jennaca's sharing with you?"

Zynga laughed. "She adds a nice twist to an already yummy flavor."

John stared at her and tried to process what he heard. Twice now he'd lain with Jennaca and after she'd gotten up and disappeared. She hadn't said a word either time after draining him with her mouth. Had she...

A vision of the buxom ranger kissing the pixie-like woman in front of him filled his mind. They had to kiss to share his seed, after all. It only made sense.

"Now that's a compliment," Zynga said. "Pity we're forbidden from attending to each other's needs. Hmm, I wonder, why is it that you're suddenly so hard?"

John shook his head in an attempt-- a failed attempt-- to banish the vision from his thoughts. He looked down and saw his robe poking up prominently from his lap. "I wasn't thinking about you, specifically."

"The two of us then?" Zynga asked. She licked her lips. "Jennaca's lips are so soft. She tastes so sweet... or maybe that's just your cum on her lips. The first time she just opened her mouth and let it flow into mine. The second time I coaxed more from her. Our tongues touched as I searched it out in her mouth. She tried to help, pushing more of it to me. Mmm, Master, it was delicious."

John groaned. "Stop...please."

"Why? Don't you want to know that you are caring for your servant? Mistress is satisfied with this arrangement too. I know I enjoy it. I prefer it, to be honest. I never did care for licking up your spendings while Mistress caused you to erupt while you slept. Oh, and Jennaca? She's enjoying it too, but don't tell her I told you. She's worried you'll think less of her."

"How could I possibly do that?" John wondered out loud.

"She's a silly mortal. She avoided most of the foolish cultural nonsense humans have, but not all of it."

John sighed and looked down at himself. "This is going to be difficult, even my magic isn't helping."

"Let me help, Master," his familiar offered.

John's eyes narrowed. "How are you going to help?"

One of Zynga's crafty smiles slipped onto her face before she slid off her bench and crossed the short distance between them on her knees. She spread his legs and grabbed the bottom of his robe and pulled it up, exposing him.

John gasped. "What... you can't..."

"Watch me," Zynga said before she grabbed John's cock around the base and pulled it toward her. Her lips stretched and she forced them around his engorged head.

John felt the heat of the imp's mouth and gasped. He shook his head and tried to pull away from her, but there was no way to go. His magic recoiled just as his mind did though, and in seconds his body mirrored the sentiment. John's cock shrank and slipped out of Zynga's succulent lips.

She sat back on her heels and sighed. She winked at John. "All better?"

He stared at her. "You... that was... ahem, well, yes. I suppose so. Except now I've got this dull ache in my loins."

Zynga held up her hands. "Can't help you there... but I'd be happy to help after you get rid of the ache, if you know what I mean."

"Zynga," John hissed.

A knock on the front of the carriage interrupted any further shenanigans. Zynga pouted and then climbed back onto the seat. She slid the shutter to the side so they could see out the open window.

"We've sighted Rock Haven. We'll be there soon," Artesia announced.

"Good," John said and glared at the grinning imp.

"I told you that would work," she argued. "It was a chore making myself do it, let me tell you, but I knew what would happen."

John shook his head. He called through the window, "I'm coming up front with you."

"Should I stop?" Artesia asked.

"No, we're not moving that fast," he said.

"Be careful, my lord."

John snorted and pulled his robe back into place. He took care of the book he'd been studying and dismissed his magical chest back to its ethereal holding place. He double checked that he was presentable before opening the door and watching the ground pass by under the wagon. He got a sense of it and hopped down, bending his knees and striding forward immediately. He almost chuckled. The old John-- the truly old one that was near the end of his natural life-- would have fallen and broken a hip there. That was before he'd met Beytrixxa and arranged whatever deal he'd made with the powerful succubus.

John grabbed onto the carriage and climbed the iron rung so he could slide onto the driver's bench next to Artesia. He smiled at her and said, "How are you?"

Zynga popped up on the other side and settled in on Artesia's far side. She wiggled her eyebrows at John and sat back, quiet for once.

"Another quiet day," Artesia said.

"Quiet is good," John said.

"Too quiet," Artesia said. "Hardly any animals and the ones we see are beyond skittish."

John couldn't remember seeing a wild animal that wasn't skittish but he knew better than to press her. "You think some of those bones might not have been human?"

Artesia shrugged. "Some were. Jennaca's young but she no fool."

"Where is Jennaca, anyhow?" Zynga asked.

John and Artesia both turned and looked ahead and to the right. Hills rose above the plains and turned into mountains. The untended road they were led slightly north, into a valley where the outbuildings of Rock Haven could be seen in the fading light.

"I last saw her on our right. She was scouting the hills," Artesia said.

"She's a bit ahead of us," John said. "I sense her in that direction. No cause for concern though. At least none that I can tell."

Artesia glanced at him. "You can tell where she is and if there's trouble?"

John nodded. "We have a bond."

Artesia frowned. "That's useful."

John studied her. "You disapprove?"

She opened her mouth and paused. A heavy sigh slipped out and she shrugged. "No, I don't disapprove of anything you do, my lord."

"Then why do you seem displeased?"

Artesia offered him a thin smile. "It's complicated."

John raised an eyebrow. Artesia didn't fancy him, that he knew. She was dedicated and loyal to him and, he suspected, she even liked him as a person, if not as a boss. He had no idea what could complicate things for her though. Before he could give it more thought he felt a twinge of excitement from Jennaca and then knew she was moving.

"She's moving," John said. "Moving fast. My bet is we meet her in the town."

"We'll find out soon enough," Artesia said.

The wagons continued down the road. If the pace for the last three days had seemed boorishly slow, the final leg was double so. True to John's word, Jennaca met them in the main road through town. She and Sasha stood in the middle and moved off to the side to let the wagons pull in.

John hopped down before Artesia coaxed the horses to stop. He hurried to her while looking around the store fronts and houses. A cool breeze that flowed down from the mountains in the northeast raised the hair on his arms.

"Good to see you," John greeted her.

"Mmm, you too," she said. "But you just saw me this morning."

He shrugged and then nodded to the buildings while the gladiators began to unload from the wagons. "Where are the people?"

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't look good."

Matthew stretched and walked toward them. He took long enough to let his eyes linger up and down Jennaca's scantily clad body before he spoke. "Took us long enough, but I'm ready for a good ale and a real bed to sleep in... say, where is everyone?"

"Not here," John answered.

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Not here? Where could they be? Some town meeting or something?"

"There's no smoke or smell of cooking fires. The forge at the smithy's cold too," Jennaca said. "I haven't had time to go in any building yet, Sasha doesn't smell anyone either."

Matthew looked to the tiger. "You can tell if she smell's people?"

"I can."

"Okay, I won't argue," he said. He turned and looked around until he saw a tavern. A grin split his face. "Well, let's go and see if there's anyone we can help out."

Jennaca and John shared a look and then turned and followed after the broad shouldered man while Sasha moved to the. The rest of the gladiators follow behind them while looking warily around the town. Artesia caught John's eye and then nodded when he looked to the wagon. She checked her sword in her holster and climbed back to the driver's bench. She remained standing and took a watch over the city.

Matthew was the first through the door. He walked in and moved to the side, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior. The hearth was bare of all but ashes and some charred chunks of wood. Tables were empty of people, but some held plates and cups on them. Flies buzzed over the remains of meals that were otherwise being consumed by beetles and maggots.

"Saints!" Matthew muttered.

John took in some of the overturned chairs. A few tables had been pushed and one was broken and had long ago come to rest propped up on two legs. He turned back to doorway and stuck his hand out through it, blocking Weston until his spear slapped against his palm. Weston jump back into Troy while a few of the others gasped or muttered at the display of sorcery.

"Wait out here," John said to them before he stepped back into the room.

"There's no one here," Zynga announced from the doorway to the kitchen.

John twisted back to the tavern's main door and then swiveled back to her. He frowned at how she'd managed to beat them inside without anyone noticing. "You've been through the entire building?"

"No, but I don't need to. Look around."

By the same logic John didn't need to look around. He let out a heavy sigh. "Matthew, we should check the other buildings. They left in a hurry."

"More than a hurry," Matthew said and pointed to where Jennaca was kneeling down beside a stain on the floor. A dark stain.

"Blood," Jennaca agreed after she realized they were looking at her. "Not a lot, but enough that whoever was hurt would be hurting and probably not make it far."

"Unless they were helped," Matthew reasoned.

"Carried, or carried off?" Jennaca asked.

"What happened here?" John mused.

"Claws."

John looked at the huntress. "What's that?"

She pointed at some marks on the an overturned chair and then at the floor. "Claw marks. The chair might be teeth, I'm not sure. Nothing like I've seen... well... other than on the bones."

John and Matthew swore at the same time.

"Oh! That reminds me," Jennaca said. "I found more bones in the river. I followed it up and then broke away and scouted the hills to the east of here."

"People?" Matthew asked.

"And animal?" John asked.

Jennaca's eyes glittered as she looked at John. "Both."

"Artesia noticed there wasn't enough wildlife around."

"She's a smart one," Jennaca greed.

"She said the same about you."

"Aww."

"Should I step out and let you have a room?" Matthew asked.

Zynga cackled, reminding them that she was still there.

"Let's search the town, see if we can learn something useful," John suggested.

Matthew nodded and was the first out the door. John and Jennaca followed. Zynga slipped away, searching the tavern for something of value only to her.

"Tavern's empty... mostly," Matthew called out loud enough to silence his people. "No people anyhow, just bugs and... well, it's not pretty. No food worth eating. They might have some ale in barrels but we can be thirsty later."

"It's been a long road, I'm thirsty now," Roderick said.

"Later," Matthew snapped while leveling a glare at the man. "Break into groups of three and search the town. Stay together! Sadie, you stay here with me and Andrea."

"I'll go with John," Roxanne offered.

In spite of the distance to his wagon John was sure he heard Artesia snort.

"I'll go with Jennaca," Helleen offered.

Jennaca looked to John. He shrugged and mouthed, "Sorry!"

Jennaca's smile was dazzling. She winked at him before turning to Helleen and saying, "Oh good! I want someone I know I can trust at my side."

"Artesia, do you want to come along or stay with the wagons?" John asked.

She hopped down from the wagon and said, "It's my duty to be at your side, my lord."

John nodded. "Well, my group's full then. We'll head past the tavern on the right and head that way."

Matthew nodded and called out arrangements for the other groups that formed. Roxanne drew her sword and walked on John's right. Artesia left her sword sheathed but had her shield on her left arm and stayed on John's left. John looked from Roxanne to Artesia and back before he moved ahead to the first building, a general store.

Artesia stepped to the door before he could and pushed the door open. She stepped in, hand on the hilt of her sword while she looked around and made room for John and Roxanne to enter.

The store was in better shape than the tavern, but a few things were still in disarray. Some items knocked over or scattered about. The counter had gouges on the top of it. Three side by side that scraped up a quarter inch of the hardwood. John leaned in and saw a fourth score mark a little further away. It wasn't as deep and the angle was different.

"You see something?" Roxanne asked.

"Four claws," John said. He stretched his hand out and splayed his fingers over the cuts. His hand was a little bigger but not much. "Three fingers, one thumb," he decided.

Roxanne looked at it and shivered. "I'll take my sword over a claw any day."

"Ask Amos how well he faired with a weapon against tooth and claw," John reminded her.

Roxanne grimaced. "Point taken."

"My lord," Artesia said from a door that led to a back room. "Storage back here. A few barrels overturned but I see nothing else. The back door is open though."

"Check it out," John said.

She nodded and disappeared into the back.

"I'll check upstairs," Roxanne offered.

"Be careful," John said. "Call if you need help."

He heard her sandals on the stairs heading up and moved to be equidistant from the stairs or the door to the back room. Artesia returned a moment later and shook her head.

"There's not much back there. Hills and some bushes. More houses over a little ways. No sign of any people or whatever scratched that counter," she said.

"John!"

John spun and looked at the stairs. He moved closer and peered up the staircase. "Roxanne?"

"Come look at this."

John turned back to Artesia. She raised an eyebrow and said, "I'll stay down here to make sure nothing comes in behind us."

"Thanks," John said and turned away before the heat in his cheeks gave him away.

He hurried up the stairs and found an open loft with a railing around the staircase. A large bed was centered in the room while off to one side privacy panels were set up around a small table. A changing room, of sorts. The room also had a couple of closed trunks in them.

"I thought the bed wasn't made, but it's worse," she said and tossed a blanket to the side. The mattress had a great tear in it with feathers strewn all over beneath the blanket.

John grimaced. He checked behind the privacy panels and then opened the trunks and verified they contained clothing and personal effects. Simple clothes, the sort a modest merchant and his wife would wear. The only item of interest he found was a sheathed dagger in one of the chests.

"What happened here?" John wondered aloud. "Clothes and even a weapon... but no people."

"No blood either," Roxanne said. "They went willingly, in spite of the damaged mattress. Pity, a feather stuffed bed sounds wonderful."

John snorted. "There's no valuables either."

Roxanne pulled her eyes up from the bed. "Sorry?"

"No coins. No jewelry. Nothing of wealth."

"Clothes are worth something."

"True, but not much. Especially not since it's sized to fit... someone."

Roxanne walked over to John and looked down at the clothes. She squatted and poked through it a bit before looking up at John. Her eyes hesitated at his waist and she stared a good long moment before licking her lips and then lifting them to see him looking at her.

"Yeah, I don't know," Roxanne admitted. "Like you said, nice clothes, but not that nice. Nothing else, but obviously they'd have more. They owned a trading post, for the love of the saints!"

John nodded and turned to stare at the bed. His eyes fell on the feathers until he realized Roxanne shifted but did rise. He glanced down and saw she'd arranged herself so she was on her knees beside him know.

"We should look into the other buildings," John said. "Check on the others too, see if they're findings are similar."

"We should," Roxanne agreed. "But... well, Lord John, I can't stop myself."

"Can't stop yourself from what?"

"From thinking about you," she admitted. Her eyes darted up to his and then back to his crotch. The fact that his robe hid his manhood from her didn't appear to matter.

"I'm flattered, but now is hardly the time--"

"You think I don't know that?" she said. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter! Being this close to you, smelling you? Saints, I'm going out of my mind, John! You done things to me... made me feel things no man has ever made me feel! I was dead to the world for almost two days after. It was my dreams of what we done that kept me going. I don't know that I can go without it much longer. I expect I'll start shaking like a drunk that has gone to long without any wine soon!"

John stared down at her and fought the urges that were whispering in the darker places of his mind. The ache in his loins returned with them. "Later, Roxanne. I promise, I'll take care of you then. It's too dangerous now... we don't know what's going to happen."

She growled and reached out to place her hands on his thighs. "This close to you... John... I don't know. I thought I could let it go before but as soon as I had a chance to be close to you, I had to take it. I didn't even know I was saying it until I spoke up. Then once I got close... I can't stop myself."

"I can stop you," John said.

Her hands slid down his thighs to the bottom of his robe and then began to slid back up, lifting it with him. "Can you?" she asked. "Then why aren't you?"

John wavered. He wanted her. He needed her. It wasn't what he should do, but she was begging him. She was wanton and desperate and needy. He could smell her arousal and it fanned the flames of his desire. "I won't be gentle this time."

"My lord!" Roxanne gasped. "Do it. Take me. As rough as you like! I'm no maiden, I battle men for a living. I can take it."