Ythes laughed gaily, the sound drowned in the raucous din of the tavern.
"And then Once says 'Don't worry, I'll take the big one'," the mail-clad dwarf was waving his tankard around as he told the story, slopping ale freely about. "And I says, 'Do you mean the tall one, or the one with the foot-long cock?"
The half-orc female called Once nodded, laughing hard. "And I was never sure if the poor girl they were about to rape was relieved or upset that we saved her."
A figure loomed up to the table, and all three of its occupants swiveled slightly to address this possible threat. The youth was tall, dark and curly haired, handsome enough, but with a certain arrogance about him.
"You've been sneaking glances at me all night." He said, addressing Ythes. "Why don't you and me go upstairs to my room and get on with it?"
Once rose to her feet, towering over the youth's six feet or so by nearly half a head. "Maybe you need a little lesson in manners, punk?" She raised a scarred fist that looked big enough to dot both the boy's eyes at the same time.
Ythes sat back in her chair, pushing the front legs off the ground, her grey eyes assessing the youth coolly. She had taken notice of him earlier, true enough- along with a half dozen or so other potential companions for the night.
The boy took a quick glance at the half-orc and then licked his lips nervously, eyes returning to Ythes'. "OK- sorry if I came on a little strong. How about it though? Please?"
Sighing, Ythes dropped the chair to the floor, brushing an errant lock of ash-blonde hair aside. "Well, that's the magic word, isn't it? Come on, Stud. Let's see what you can do."
As she twined her arm with his and led him towards the stairs, Once sat down, grumbling. "That gods-be-damned curse of hers! Damn it, Atta- I should have knocked his ass out before he could ask her."
The dwarf brushed ale out of his fierce red mustaches before taking another long draught. "Yeah, well- it's not like she wasn't going to get fucked by somebody in here tonight, anyway. Besides, it frees us up to find a good fight, anyway."
*
At the entrance to the room, Ythes turned and embraced the youth, kissing him deeply. He had full, sensuous lips and a sweet, darting tongue, but there was something unsure about him, a tension she could sense. She smiled to herself: despite all his swagger downstairs she might need to take charge from here.
"What's your name, handsome?" She breathed, as he opened the door and they moved through.
As the door opened, he said. "I'm called Tack." He said, just before bringing the blackjack down expertly against the back of her head. Stunned, she had series of brief, disjointed impressions of the next few minutes: the door closing behind her and being barred, strong arms lifting her out the window, where another pair of arms took her and laid her across a waiting saddle. Then a handkerchief with some foul smelling substance on it was placed across her mouth, and everything went black.
*
She came to beside a campfire that was just starting to catch. It was approaching night, and she could smell something cooking in the pot suspended over the fire.
She was bound hand and foot, and naked, lying on some sort of fur and covered only by a thin blanket.
"Awake, are we?" The curly haired youth- Tack, was it?- from the night before moved into her field of vision. He came close and knelt at her head, raising a canteen to her lips. She drank gratefully.
"Hungry?" He asked. At her nod, he stirred stew from the pot into a thin wooden bowl and fed her slowly and patiently, wiping her chin with a cloth.
"Sorry about the bump on the head," He said, looking honestly remorseful. "But we were warned you were a tricky one, and we had to get you away from those friends of yours or things would get messy. We don't like messy if we can help it."
"What's this all about, Tack?" She asked. "All this just to get me naked and alone?"
He chuckled. "You robbed a man in Lake City a couple of months ago. Big stone house, pack of white dogs in the yard, a ruby you could choke a horse with- remember?"
