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[Bear]

Grins,.. a new choir… 
Good to see some additional voices singing for change, I pass the torch onto you Tight'

[Bear]

Wicca is an old English term,.. adapted to the modern religious practices. It's original form was in application to a wizard.

Hoping my story isn't too boring at the moment to those looking for more of the erotic…  the erotic portion is to wrap in at appropriator points though.

[Bear]

My thoughts were warped, for the moment. A naked man appears in your room…

“Xegis?”  My probing uncertain, the hope this was not the man I had sought . His head tilted, nodding …but the words underlined different thoughts

“You never bring soup anymore” the tinge of disappointment marked on his words.

Xegis the wise,… my mind was twisted on its irony. I moved slowly rounding the desk,.. his eyes following me with that blank look. I had seen such before in the human elders,.., the look of a mind lost, when age grips the mind in cloud. His attention refocused on the book before him as I cleared a spot on the edge of his desk, sitting there and watching. He turned the pages slowly, yet I doubted he was grasping anything before him.

“You know I love my soup, but you never bring it anymore.”

I spoke softly. “I, know, Xegis,”… his attention set yet on the mindless turning of pages. “Xegis,…look at me.”

The blank stare turned to me. In that the wave of disappointment which I felt shattered me. I had come so far,.. carrying that weight of hope, that someone could give a thread of knowledge of the one  I  hunted.
“Did you bring my soup? It is lunchtime”

“No soup Xegis, I’ll bring you soup if you like, but tell me… does the name Zierst mean anything to you?”  He didn’t answer, but the vacant eyes went cold. A subtle glimmer of recognition, as he looked away. I suspected the knowledge did lay within, trapped  within the a confused tangles of his mind.  Reached out, my broad calloused hand gently cupping his face, holding him steady as I locked my eyes to his. Aldaris had said I could bind with any living creature, and in that binding a small measure of the creatures knowledge was possible to access. I had done so with the hellhound, but the minds of the higher forms were darting, quick, confusing, and  finding a seam of a thread of the core physical memory, the primal patterns that are our makeup, stable enough to grasp and weave a connection nearly impossible.

It seemed worth a try. This one appeared a simpleton now,…the din of his thought patterns perhaps subdued enough to warrant a try.  I pulled from my core of her gift,.. reaching from my mind to his, peeling back the layers slowly until I found a barrier, the milky sheen of a binding wrapped within his mind. It was like a cataract on the thoughts. A blinding barrier, which I pressed through, feeling it yield and wrap about my touch piercing below. Then it hit me as a wave of thoughts burst through the  dam upon me. The surge a buckling crush unto my own mind of disjointed thoughts feeding through that conduit.  I tensed, his thoughts piercing into my mind, probing, reading…my heart pumping wild, I severed the connection, staggering as I collapsed to the floor, stunned that through the connection he could pull knowledge from me, it sent a shiver through my soul. Dazed as I heard the voice of Xegis speak,…his words a struggle.

“Roseshackle, …Shapeshifter,… walk from this,… Zierst, the harvester, …the collector,… bound to Faule and the ceremony of fire… killed your friend he has”,.. magical,… killed the corporeal perhaps,.. the spirit of the magic cannot be destroyed,.. manipulated, .. twisted, … never destroyed. A prize to command… a pet, companion she would become…, find the…”

His voice trailed of to a murmur, something more lingered in his words, lost as what little clarity collapsed. The vacant stare set again on me as I sat gasping, weakened by the contact. His intrusion into my mind had shocked me, the prospects I had never considered before.Taking quick breaths my thoughts tried to unravel the few words that he had spoke. That lapse brief, I was jarred to realty as the latch of the door clicked and my mind reacted instantly fearing discovery.

Gripping a memory as I pulled the  sweep of magic about me,… the primal fear filling me as I blurred,.., I squeaked,… pooped in fear… scurrying across the floor, instinctive of the need of flight, diving into a pile of books lying on the floor the waves of fear filling me until I could find that settling connection of control. A mouse wasn’t the safest of forms, but the easiest to hide here amidst the clutter of the room.

I peered from my safe haven, watching as Caduceus entered the room, a tray in hand as he moved towards Xegis.

“Did you bring my soup?”
“No Xegis, bread, cheese and juice as always. It is mid day meal master.” The roll of master from him did not sound of respect.

My mouse mind twittered with joy. I could sense the mouth watering with the prospects of crumbs.

“You never bring me soup.”
Caduceus set the tray on the desk top, “Far too warm for soup, Xegis, perhaps when the weather cools. Enjoy your day?” His question mocking of tone, as he lifted a cup from the tray and turned. One hand slipping under his robes

“I saw a bird…”
“You did?” Caduceus pulled a vial from his robes,..popping the cork as he emptied the contents into the cup.

“Spoke to me, it did. Right there” The scribe smiled, swirling the cup as he listened,… “Stood right there and talked,…” Xegis waved a withered hand before the desk….“Asked of Zierst, then turned into a ghost…gone…disappeared..”

Caduceus stiffened. The color draining from his face. “Who? Who asked of Zierst?” He turned quick, setting cup and vial to the side as he leaned in. “Who?” he demanded

“The bird… a hunter he is”

“Who was he?” shouted Caduceus, “Xegis..”

“You never bring me soup anymore”

Caduceus whirled about frustration full on his face, I could sense the nervous edge raise strong inside him. A brief moment of contemplation,  obvious that further questions of the old man would yield little. Moving quick as he strode from the room, his thoughts elsewhere, forgetting the vial. No sooner than the door closed I scurried forth, released the binding to the rodent as Xegis picked the cup up. I raced forward, reaching, my hands pulling the cup from him.

“The juice is spoiled my friend” taking it from his lips..

“You promised soup.”

“I did,..” Nodding, I broke off a small piece of cheese popping it into my mouth,.. savoring it’s taste as I crossed to the rooms chamberpot and emptied the contents of the cup within. The savoring taste of the cheese seemed to sooth the transition in return.

“The juice is bad,.. remember that..”  I had small hope of his understanding that warning. But the the sound of footsteps again rose beyond the door. I moved quick.

The latch of the door clicked,.. my fears of Caduceus returning for the vial strong, I raced back to the desk,.. grabbing the container, and setting it between my lips as I leaped towards the window,.. Gripping within again for that winged form, I slipped again into flight, streaking down,.. back into the safety of the shrubs, laving the weakened hope of immediate answers behind.

[Bear]

In real life, yes the witch was generally treated with a degree of suspicion, …

In the fantasy realm,. that of D&D, they were clerical in nature, more proactive in the application of the divine spirits rather than worship. Should you choose to play in the thread, the role of healer,… apothecary,..herbalist… a woman of power capable of manipulating the elements is quite within the frame of things. The witch gains her powers from worship, unlike the “natural” mage who is perceived as born with a gift towards magic.

[Bear]

I am not certain why the Mircale Max quote tickles me here

    Miracle Max: See, there's a big difference between mostly dead, and all dead. Now, mostly dead: he's slightly alive. All dead: well, with all dead, there's usually only one thing that you can do.
    Inigo: What's that?
    Miracle Max: Go through his clothes and look for loose change.

play with death how you like…

[Bear]

Hmm I have seen at least 3 lycan in the thread of my story, 2 crucial as to his story…, the theme of the anti-hero definite at work here, but I think it doesn't intensify until the coming of the full moon when he again becomes locked into his cursed form. No doubt with so many warriors mercenaries the bounty placed on him would be a natural diversion of mention in any other thread. I see the nature of the demon to be quite attracted to this city, and the full moon coinciding with the solstice, the natural decadence and a ritualistic orgy,…but for now unlocking the mind of Xegis is his principle task

Note, perhaps not made clear, but my character  is in his lycan form 24/7  for 3 days, under the moons influence no matter if it is in the sky of not. A countdown  might be needed here, …with a 28 day cycle,.. the next moon,… 23 days away…or is that too far of a spread?

[Bear]

I hated crowds, the decades of my solitary life with Aldaris had little prepared me for the journey I had been on. The rush on my senses always overloaded ears filled with the swarm of heartbeats, the smell of conflicting scents from the people about. At least the biased worked in my favor. Seeing a half breed, people unconsciously took that extra measure of step to avoid contact… my path always slightly wider then others might encounter. The bulk of my frame was human, but the shape of the pointed ears jutting from the braids of my silver streaked hair, the piercing blue almond shaped eyes clearly defined the mixed race.  All was well, the library of Lidibinis was my goal.

My partner had performed well, tempered the lust filled needs for the moment, which gave me some clarity to this day. Easily aroused she had succumbed to my driving needs,.. several times. Finally pleading departure, she left wobbling,.. sore from serving as my fuck toy for hours, but had manage to dull the edge of the lust driven need that ate at me.

Enough, that I focus as I traversed the swarm of the market place. The whispers I picked from the crowd showed the continuing of concerning  the body found in an alley the prior day, another victim of the speculated lycan. It was pretty clear that the authorities had not freely acknowledged this. The brutality of the attacks, the timing, certainly gave credence to the rumors circulating Such news would certainly have dampened the ensuing celebration ahead. Some sort of festival,…, of which I had little interest in.  My purpose here singular, speak with Xegis the Wise,.. and see if he could enlighten me of the demon I sought.

Following the directions given by my innkeeper, I found the library easy enough, a rather unimposing building set in the religious district of the city. Compared to the temples and shrines which rose around it, the building looked to be an ignored step child of neglect. Not surprising the city itself bore a reputation of more sensual indulgences. That Xegis should reside here suggested something of his own dalliances. I climbed the few steps entering into the dull lite chamber,  The handful of scribes absorbed in their work paid scant attention to me,.. but for one whose attention was clearly fixed on my intrusion.

He rose, measuring my plain appearance. I wore nothing impressive, the plain loose fitting leather shirt and breeches…clean, but spotted with marks of my journeys, my  boots worn and tired looking. The singular knife sheathed on my belt and  staff hardly threatening.

“What business do you have here?” he demanded, the voice sharp and quick.

I let the sharp inquiry fall flat,  choosing not to answer immediate. Measuring him no different than a barking dog, as my eyes wandered, letting him know his stance and position irrelevant as I took in the surroundings. Then glanced to him,, answering in a even soothing tone.

“I seek audience with Xegis. Does he still reside here?” I could sense the stiffening attitude and reluctance to answer. He merely nodded, speaking quietly for me to wait as he turned quick on his heel, moving across the room towards the large door holding the valued archives of manuscripts. He didn’t enter, turning instead at the wall towards a stairwell, disappearing as climbed up, no doubt to private chambers housed on the higher floor.

The man who descended with him hardly of what I expected, tall, fair featured with a short well trimmed beard. He approached with authoritative confidence, the underling overlord of the scribes slipping back to his desk, apparently passing me off to his companion. We stood there briefly, he measuring me as I did him.

“Xegis?” I asked, apparently introductions were beyond this one’s manners.

He shook his head, “No, I am afraid Caduceus, second scribe of the Library of Lidibinis.  Xegis no longer offers counsel here. Perhaps I may help you.”

My eyebrow arched in surprise, second scribe, he looked far too young to hold such a position. There were far older men present in these chambers, more inclined to hold such a title. He was either extremely bright or…

I pressed, I had come too far to meet rebuke.  “Only if you are well versed in the knowledge of demonology? Otherwise I must speak to Xegis”

“No,…and no” he spoke, the second a retorting stand. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, no doubt an urging anticipation for me to leave. “Xegis is old, of bad health.. he no longer has the mind to answer or recollect anything at all. And no one here has the expertise on what you seek”

I can smell a lie, literally. The tensing of the body, dilation of the eyes, quicken pulse, not to discount the undeniable change in scent. He was lying. At what level I could not discern. The mark of a true scribe of sages lies in a knowledge that of their lack thereof a topic, is supplemented by at least knowing who to speak to, who might have that knowledge. He offered no suggestion as he ushered me from the scribroium.

As I stood on the front step of the library, paying scant attention to Caduceus smug sense of success as he reentered the building, my eyes glancing up to the open windows of the upper floors airing the heat from the rooms.

There were other ways to gain access.

I found a thick cluster of shrubs along the side of the building, slipped behind them unseen, pulling the  leather shirt from me as my mind reached  for memories. Lifting as I bound,.. my remaining clothes falling free,.. the swirling rush of the meld, the momentary confusion as my mind and physical shape adapted, reconnecting…and  lifted into flight. A crow rising from the bushes would hardly be suspect, and though an awkward shape, one I had never truly mastered,.. I held enough control to rise to the second story, flap hovering,..from window to window…until I found what I suspected my goal.

The old man sat at his desk,.. the disarray piles of books, scrolls surrounding him in ,..his attention focused on the manuscript,…withered hands flipping the pages slowly.. I flew forward,.. entering the room, releasing the binds of the shape,..the shimmering blur surrounding me as I step forward easily. Manifesting back into my human form as his eyes darted up, a measured gazed to my naked form standing before him.

I was confused, my senses finding no rush of excited heartbeat,… just a vacant stare. His challenge equally puzzling as he spoke nonchalantly.

“Did you bring my soup?”

[Bear]

@Janine I think one has to consider the nature of this shapeshifter character and realize his limitation. Remembering he was a recluse, his contact in the crowded societies limited to the recent years.  To answer your question I see his lcyan form with a distinctive markings, the pronounced silver streak in the mane,.. the chest wound of the hell hound, such wounds created and occurring by the supernatural  beings on his lycan form, healing but marring his features. So yes, an acute observer could make that distinction. 

Who pays such close attention to the details when locked in absolute fear?

He has killed what he thought to be the creature responsible…, is it the only one?…, In my tale the answer would be no. Borrowing a bit from Supernatural series… as sideline issues in his quest of revenge as this tale weaves forward.

I think that prior observations of him, that the killings stopped, and his sightings in other towns where killings occur would link him more as a culprit then hero. “Silvermane” would be that tale you teach your kids to scare the crap out of them when you want them to stay indoors at night.

Reanimation of the dead always intriguing,… really depends on how deep a story and world you wish to create here, or keep it in the general loose framework of D & D. The reality of war games to the death, reserved for settling the extreme conflicts in lieu of absolute war. To waste your best warriors otherwise on trivial issues is a mark of a more barbaric society, I have a hard time seeing this city as such.  Certainly personal stakes could be raised.

[Bear]

A side by side position, with such touching options, to the lips, neck, breast, nipple, abdomen, mons, the thighs, and grins… and that intimate gate.

Set it up with object options… say the feather, a rose, a riding crop, dildo  (unfortunately probably limited to objects of similar lengths)… or ice cube, bullet, rose petal,….

Indeed that would be a fun pose to play with.

[Bear]

Sandra, it's been a year since we have pointed that issue out,  I am of the opinion, that it is a limitation of the programmers here, since I think it would require a full adjustment to positioning of the male. It's like the sitting joy position where the woman plays with her nipples. When first released , small breasted av's  were doing an aerial twist  (unless they have fixed that.

Still it's nice to have new viewpoints raise these issues, let the development team know the issues are still out there. Keep shouting them out, …

[Bear]

Well feudal competition often was a chance for displays of swordcraft. So a form of such wouldn't necessarily unusual. A gladiatorial competition? That could be an interesting twist… an interesting potential dilemma with such a chaotic creature as Adera's in the city if animals are used in the games.

As to the Lycan,. my first thoughts were the issue the local authorities had tried to keep such under wrap. An eyewitness exists, …that issue bound to  now to run in rumors. I can't see my character to have been very secretive about his actions in the beginning. Not blatantly open, but bound to have been seen  through the months in his cursed form. His drifting, perhaps enough to warrant a legendary tags of his own, Silvermane,… (for the streak of silver on him),..Talon.. in those days the traveling troubadours likely to put their own spin to tales. How such effects your story I leave to you. I see it as a further crisis to his own dealings in the city the longer he lingers  there as his tale unwinds,.

I do see the town as more, open minded rather in a constant overall state of debauchery. The festival itself may have further influences..

[Bear]

If some guy is living his fantasy playing ass a female,  he certainly has the right.  They are far and few between. The 2 way scrip flow opens up the way to abuse.

[Bear]

To answer you your inquiry, apollo, the economics realty is exactly what Tight has indicated. Sites need inducements for women to use, the gifting process is exactly that. The site is heavily unbalanced as it is, 2-1 3-1 ratio of premium males to females at many points of the day. Such an imbalance lends itself to the possibility of abuse. Gift the other way and you have the prospect of males creating false female characters to fund their activities here,.. more so it opens the opportunity allowing underaged minors to abuse the system. Without the need of a credit card.

Add to that the issue of PIMPS,… the whoring nature of the site is magnified. We don't need any further allowance of such to be expanded, especially with the prevalence of the Doms here.

Don't kid yourself that a male is special enough to warrant selling his services for scrip. For each guy under a delusion he is some form of the ultimate lover, there are 10 out there of equal or better qualities.

I Love the idea of gifting objects to males. I find the aspect of gifting scrip in return troublesome and disturbing.

BUT in no way try to install a game has to be socially conforming. It is by it's nature a game, and can be set up to serve however it pleases. By being a game it is totally exempt from constitutional requirements of equality.

[Bear]

Well I've posted the central themes of my story, a character motivated by revenge, against lycans and his search for the specific demon . The nature of that demon as a collector of souls,… more on that shortly.

I like the festival, summer tends to be a celebration of celestial nature,.. would put a great deal of pressure on the character if the full moon coincides with the festival peak,.. since the nights would be at there shortest for him to operate freely.

The autumn festival, could be be perceived to give religious appeasement of thanks, the nature of humans to give tith to their gods for success of harvest. The sexual nature of the city would certainly make any cultist offering more interesting. So I like those ideas tremendously. From my viewpoint of the characters condition, the extended nights more workable, the crowds  in pilgrimage and their extended night frolicong in either case probably enough of a challenge for him to deal with. The festival is either impending,  orjust starting… critical events should accumulate with it's peak.

My thoughts,.. if you are looking for quest driven ideas or suggestion to introduce as points of discovery is to visit the Sage at the library of Libidnis, though for a brief span he will be… impaired…. the thread of the shapeshifter will enlighten. The mind is rolling now with the ideas…of Talon's adventures in the city. (I stole this character from a different story I am working on twisted him into this fantasy setting…

Again though,…the underlying concern of the presence of a lycan terrorizing the city has been established… the potential of inter character conflict tremendous… since all they know it still preys.

[Bear]

Perhaps a gathering of festival…a  spring/summer event the celebration in coordination with such reputation.

[Author]

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