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[Bear]

[Bear]

Do you know how to recognize the very dangerous and common brown recluse spider?

Notice the violin/fiddle shape marking on the back of his head.

This is example of it's bite

Nasty  nasty bites. I was bitten om the top of my forearm by one of these in June of 2017 and struggled with the subsequent necrosis and infection for nearly 2 months before finally getting the wound to heal properly. It nearly succeeded in putting me down for good. It took nearly 6 months to heal fully

[Bear]

Memorable:

[Bear]

For a moment I lingered outside the inn where I had chosen to to stay days before and took in a deep draught of the aromas floating in the air.

My intent had been to merely to rid myself of the leather jerkin and change into my finery, this was after all not the wilds which I was so normally accustomed to. That aroma though,… succulent, enticing, the deep scent of sexual excitement emulating from the inn detoured my intentions. It was always harder to shake myself down into that quiet peace of humanity as opposed to the rise after the new moon. Be it just fresh on my mind,..or my obsession I lingered on that edge of choice, not compulsion. Perhaps it was being in that state of mind, a sad statement of my current nature which had not found fulfillment for over a day to simply rationalized Xegis would be fine till morning. None would know his disappearance until the morning hours.

I needed release for clarity.

A rationale any addict could relate to.

With mouth watering I entered the main floor of the inn trembling as I felt the sexual charge even before eying the naked mass of patrons entwined in their sexual orgy. Licking my lips I took stock of the sexual energy which hung in a haze abundant over the withering mass within locked in their ecstasy. My acute senses probed for one highly aroused, the one most likely to be receptive to my own enraging lust. My attention was drawn to  the large voluptuous matron straddling the Satyr upon the performing platform. I could not retrain myself from watching her ride that gigantic phallus. The sheen of her excitement coated his cock, making it glisten in the dull light of the room.

I watched as she rolled on him, salivated as she leaned back pressing him deeper into her folds as she reached up and squeezed her heavy ample breasts. With his lute set to the side, his hands held her hips as he rolled  under her  in response…bracing her as he leaned back and with raised hips thrusted that slab fast into her. She arched shattering at his quickened thrusts, breaking over and over into the throes of orgasm.

I stood there soaking in that intoxicating sight.. nearly panting… feeling every thrust pummeling into her sex.. No doubt the satyr had used his unique gift caressing those sweet seductive chords upon his audience. The symphony of groans, … ecstatic moans,,,the chirp of rising peaks sung by the thirty so naked soul entwined in the room were music to my ears.  He had led them to completely disrobing of any inhibitions. I had found heaven in this moment. Like a drunk beaming at an open bar, I wavered there, fumbling at the ties of my jerkin eager to plunge into the chaos of flesh.

I needed no music to find my lust.

My interest flickered brief to the side catching a glimpse of the seductive nymph who had shared my illusion. She knelt stoic behind him. Clothed, rigid in form, untouched by the  chaos of lust that filled the room. a stark statue of contrast to the primal action surrounding her .My eyes roamed over the fine beauty of her face framed by the black waves of long hair which cascaded over her shoulder, drifting lower following the rise and fall of her chest, those perky breasts jutting against the mold of silk draped upon her.  For a moment the memory of our shared illusion filled me, the feeling of her…, all sweeping again upon me. Her eyes shifted falling upon me,  not with flames of lust or intimacy, nor despair, but a lancing gaze, …that pierced thru my  hormonal drive,…calming, ….familiar as it seemed to drive into me.

Shrinking from the effect of her  gaze…my eyes avoiding hers, perhaps  in hope to withdraw again into the darkened shadows of the I,…but I was compelled again to look meeting again that calm demur she bore. She knelt there proud,…regal and brilliant in that a stature in the midst of writhering entwined flesh.

I swallowed hard, my throat parched from my canine  exploits and the lobbing run from the docks .My eyes glanced to the empty bar wet From tipped cups and tankards. Yet one stood foaming at the brim, it beckoned my thrist..

A good draught and I perhaps this strange stillness would passs and I  would be set to join in the fun.

Crossing to the bar my hands reached to grip the tankards handle, yet halted by a steeled grip which shot out locked to my wrist.

“Nay so fast laddie. That beauty is spoke for… just move along and find something of the flesh to divert your thirst..”

A grayed head rose from behind the heavy oaken bar, and steeled eyes framed by equally gray and bushy eyebrows took me in. A dwarf, proud faced, with high ruddy cheekbones stood up, which wasn’t really much, for  he rose a head higher than the  bar.
Eyes narrowed, nearly squinting as he weighed me, then released his stout  short fingers from my grip in recognition. It was a face I knew…long,… long ago.

He mulled me for a moment,  then spoke in a deep booming voice. “Ner’ ever did I figure to see the likes of you again laddy. You seemed destined to go the way of darkness, “  He shoved the drink towards me. “Drink up Bear.””

Lifting  his mug hidden in his other hand below  below the bar  he raised it in toast squaring his broad massive chest then tossing back his head to drain the contents as the tankard kissed his lips..

In the decades I had wandered the lands I rarely broke bread with folks more than once. It was far too dangerous to linger long anywhere, and my quest kept me constantly on the move searching for clues and rumors of Zierst.  But for once.. I had met Angus and his troop of gnomes in the dark woods a place far to dangerous for them or other travelers in such small numbers to venture alone in.

I was raw edged in the ways of civilization and of common folk, as much a wild creature of those dark woods than of humanity. I was a shadow that would slip unseen into the towns, making no attempt to blend with the streets of life. Yet a small thread of decency did exist in me.
Reluctantly I agreed to guide them to nearby settlements.

Their fellowship was a flame to attract the fleeting moth of my interest, the camaraderie of nights about the campfire with the gnomes,…intelligent, inventive,… eccentric in their ways and manners. I found  moment of peace with them, listened to shared  lores and laughter under the stars of those wildlands. The old dwarf smithy gave me a fathers wisdom which had been torn from me in my youth,.. I had learned I  yearned for such, for I had never realized the burden of loneliness the years had left an ache for companionship until I had found it. So days stretched into weeks,.. weeks into months. It was they who named me in the cloak I wore, for identity…Bear, … by reason a chance encounter of the youngest gnome to see my transformation into such. I spun my lies of identity on that, an ursine shapesifter  and found them accepting of my uniqueness.

When the moon would be raising in threatening fullness, I would excuse myself from their camp simply explaining of the need to live that form. They did not question it, nor feared,  knowing no trepidation in that I would be in the woods watching over the protecting them, greeting me enthusiastically after the moon waned when I lumbered back into camp bear formed and transformed human again.

The taint became a mere annoyance,  only  rearing its ugly head of lust when we found settlements. I figure the scents and aroma fuel it. Like I should be feeling now.

“To you Angus. For clear roads and full purses” I lifted the tankard in sincere salute and took a deep draught,… regretting it immediately. My throat burned, as the liquid slid down. My eyes watered and I gagged spitting out what had not been swallowed slamming the tankard down
Angus cut loose a hearty laugh,  “Careful what you poach lad. It may bite back.”

I rubbed at my mouth as if I could push the taste out of it.

“Gods, what form of demon spit were you serving me.”

He turned about grabbing a fresh tankard and filled it from a barrel against the wall. Swinging towards me about to hand me what I hoped was more suitable ale.

“The good dwarven stuff Bear, Sleepy Hollow Thunder Ale,” He set a fresh tankard before me. “polish one of those off and ye’ be sleeping 99 years.”

I reached for coin to pay him but he shook his head waving me off. That suited me , The back of my hand I had wiped with still burned with my transgression. Internally I paid too,…my stomach churned and I swore I was sweating. I eagerly took the ale and drained it.

“Well if you aren’t finishing this….” He gripped the shunned tankard and drained it full.

I did not answer immediately, hoping the weaker ale would sooth me. “Well I never figured you the likes of you  to hang your hammer up and take to minding a bar.”

Angus laughed, “Hardly laddie, though the idea of endless supply of ale is enticing,, but then  I’d drink me profits away. Nay,.” He cast a gesture to the side. “Ol’ Jo’ell is a bit distracted to attend to matters.”

Leaning across the bar and I glanced behind it, catching sight of a skinny white ass bobbing up and down between the open legs of  a serving wench.

“So poaching a bit yourself while he's churning the butter, eh? What brings you here then, certainly not the tunes…And just where are your charges? They still with you”

Angus face soured, “Nay not the tunes, you know we dwarves move to a different note…. The tune master himself.” His eyes cast angrily at the Satyr. “ That bastard of a goat  Baylis, he owes me for work I did in Amberdeen a couple years past. I hoped to recoup a the loss. That was a wasted  hope,  As to the lads,. “ He sighed and dip behind the bar again..

His voice raised as he filled his tankard from a keg below apparently Ol' Jo'ell was protective of his select brew.,  “As to the lads, I left them with a charge to sweep the stables. There are four,… nothing will be accomplished, they’ll bicker all night about how to accomplish it . Safe and secure in inaction.”

“Hardly fair making the tavern pay for his slight.”

“Me cheat?”  A hand slapped a wad of tab receipts on top of the bar. He rose again filled tankard  in hand. “Baylis will have a hefty account to settle this night.” I grinned and cast the satyr another glance, though my eyes went past him onto the nymph again. Her eyes were still set upon me, her head tilting slight as a gentle smile crossed her face. Sublime,.. as if asking in expectant expression ‘what are you going to do now?’.

She paid scant attention to the staggering male who approached with desiring eyes. Nor did she flinch when the satyr impaled that buxomest blond deep on him and lashed out with a cloven hoof sending the suitor scurrying away. Harsh words were spoke, yet I heard none, such was my infatuation in her.

“What of his companion?” I asked of Angus, leaning back in a casual matter “What do you know of her, this… Baylis seems quite protective of his little treasure there.” I tried to keep my question subtle.

“Forget her, unless you dare walking as a skinned bear . He’s protective of that one. Intent of maintaining her purity.”

I cocked my head amused. “A nymph pure?… you might as well say burning snow.”

Angus shrugged, raising his tankard to his lips, he paused in a thought, “Moon phase purity they say.” I looked on him noting a hint of unsteadiness in his normal solid stance, that bright sparkle in his eyes had dimmed a bit. Gods know just how much of this brew he had been slamming down, but it was quite apparent to have an obvious kick.

I reached out tapping his arm in distraction from taking a sip.

“They? Who are they?”

He waved me off, “Idle tavern gossip,… you know .” ready to indulge himself in his tankard..

I reached, stopped him again short of drink. “Of Baylis and a simple nymph? Seems quite trivial speculation”

Angus scoffed, waving a hand at me. “Nothing trivial about Baylis.” He lifted the drink to his lips.

“Well nothing trivial about being a cheat. Unless there are much deeper secrets you have not shared.”. I paused then added “Unless of course you know nothing more.”

Angus halted, I knew enough of him to bait his loose tongue. He set the tankard on the bar, rising on tip toes to  lean forward, as best he could across the bar. A stout finger shook at me as he slurred. “Oh he is,… you know he’s exiled from the courts,… he has. Ere since Celedon, Played his lute there and worked them up mightily. Found no favor with the King when he was caught ploinking the queen. Banished…” he waved his hand out in enthusiastic emphasis knocking the tankard over. He paused, and for a moment I thought he might grieve over spilled ale. Annoyed he continued in a hushed voice. “ N’ere to play the royal courts again. A seleni in his prime exiled,… stuck in  playing in two talent shitholes for commoners. For years he’s be seeking a sponsor to enter the courts again. Right the shame his pride cannot endure. “

Angus slid back grabbing his tankard and dipped below to refill it.

“and he found one?” I asked

Angus peeked over the bars lip nodding,… I think he was nodding, hunched below. “Aye,… some say he caught favor with the prince, delivering him specially endowed … gifts.” He set the tankard on the Bar, leaned in again whispering …”An evil one that prince,… Gods have mercy on those poor lasses that be was bequeathed. The dark hall of the docks abound with stories of his perversions…I fear mightily for these people if he when he ascends the throne.”

“So she is a gift for the princes… gratification?”

“Eh,..” Angus shrugged that off in uncertainty and slipped below again. “I be not convinced  of that. For weeks the dark halls have echoed the prince desired something special. It’s not normal for him so publicly seek for personal …indulges.”

I frowned at that. The dark halls he spoke of were gathering places of thieves assassins, and murderers. I glanced to him as he eyed the prize in his grip.” And your opinion?”

Angus always had an opinion to share.

“A gift,… he seeks favor with the imperial eagle.”

That caught my attention. An imperial emissary  here in the free state of Liviticus.? The Imperium had been founded on the noblest of concepts. Yet centuries had seen the purist of intents fall victim to the cancer within it. Greed, the thirst of personal power had twisted it into a brutal repressive kingdom.

“Why would an Imperial Eagle be here?”

“Are you daft lad? You’ve walked those woods far too long. War is brewing between the free states. Even now alliances are being carved out. Lines are being drawn tis’ a sad dawning that rises in our future. The Eagle arrives and it is not a blessing for these folks.”

“So you think she is prize to be offered to the Imperial Eagle,? A princes favor for Imperial support.?”

“Aye.”

Angus stood there with raised mug. anticipating another question. “Are ye done lad? This dwarfs throat is parched with all this babbling and in serious need. “

My eyes drifted over the orgy aflame in the room, returning to the nymph who still looked upon me. I could feel her,… I could feel the calm clarity of my soul as her eyes held to me. With all the sexual tension hanging in this room, the sweat, the aromas, the sounds of lust that should have ignited my own….her effect intrigued me..

“Go ahead, Angus its drink well deserved”

Angus grinned his chest heaved relieved  as he brought the potent brew to his lips muttering… “Ah….Come to papa…”

I casually added baiting him,  “Of course  robbing Baylis of such a pure gift would be a satisfying means of retribution…for debts unpaid.”

Angus halted mid sip, he slowly lowered his mug leaving his mustache coated in white foam. “The nymph?”  I nodded at him “Naer thought that itch in your crotch would ever serve good use, but you may have something there… get the old goats goat.”

He set the tankard far to the side and leaned in.

“I’m listening…”

I had an idea of a plan, whether it would work… that would be seen. I leaned against the bar and stroked my chin, using my hand to hid the subtle smile I felt. It was far easier to ride my reputation of lust in a lie then tell the truth of my motivation.

Nobody would have believed the truth.

[Bear]

[Bear]

Damn,… damn… DAMN… how the hell could an old decrepit  man suddenly slip from me unnoticed and so easily.

I slipped back into the bushes stripping quick again, angry at myself for such carelessness… reached into the memories as I jerked free of the jerkin… sliding comfortably into one that could help.

Had I been on the absolute cusp of the moon I would not have required it, but dulling senses meant to give over to forms with acute abilities. I trotted from the bushes on gangly legs, bent my head to the ground and let the bloodhound in me take charge. I hated the floppy ears that continually flapped over my eyes, but the nose was its essence… the power of the form, it honed on the scent of Xegis with  incredibly ease… a squirrel too,… molding sweet bread crumbs…a remarkable perfume in the air… back to the squirrel… I halted,.. steadying my control… as always some instincts take hold first with a form… and it takes a moment to gain purposeful control.

Refocusing, I latch to the scent of Xegis and nose to the ground send myself into the darkness on his trail.

It lead downhill, following the winding street, skirting the foreign district…a path straight of purpose hardly of mindless wandering. That I had not caught up to him quickly indicated intent on destination…,whatever end point he had in mind he made good time. I had confidence I was gaining, at least until the path lead into the docks,. and my nose was overwhelmed by a cacophony of odors. I crisscrossed the plaza of the docks… catching faint whiffs of the trail… weaving past burly night stevedores.. drunks,.. dodging heavy carts bludgeoning with wares. Found the trail skirting dangerously close to the dock edge…skirted under a heavy caged wagon…my ears picking up a woman's cries.

Her gasps and pleas were enough to pull me in detour, I slipped beneath the heavy caged wagon,, drifting forward until I could peer about the wagon catch the sight of the huge man in ruthless action against a woman, her hands bound by ropes to the huge bars of the caged, head tossing in frantic response…lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Her high booted legs wrapped tight on his hips, skirts hiked high as she as she rode him in abandonment to lust. The loud slaps of his quick powerful thrusts, the heavy scent of sex in the air,.. enough to pull me forward… plant my hips to the ground and watch. Her body tightened , back arching as an orgasm took her,… which propelled her grunting partner into further action… I found myself …ahem.. well,… aroused by the sight of the hot lust and all…panting,…not even certain when my long tongue spilled lazily out to droop from my mouth… body tingling as I felt the slip of a hardness of my cock sliding from its sheath….

I was mesmerized by the moment.. watching as he finally found that breaking point gripping her hips tight as he arched back and released his seed into her slick depths.. just the aromas to the sensitive nose was a powerful aphrodisiac,… I lingered watched her rolling on his hips, eyes locked on his sweating face as if in eager need of more. He back away, slipping from her…

“Insatiable…don’t ever change bitch.”  He kissed her hard. Stepped back to shove his package into his trouser. He turned away but I could here him shout, “Jarvis you're up!”

I heard the heavy clod of horses led by two men as the entered the narrow confines. The woman eyed them eagerly as they tied the saddled mounts up to a nearby wagon.

“About time ,”  grumbled one, “There’s a delay in raising the rest of the gear from the holds. Arn has nothing to do till the ships captain gets his thumb from his ass and gets the remaining gear off loaded. It'll take a bit,  I figure a double dip might kill the time.”
,
The woman released a delicious moan at the suggestion as two big men slipped into view. Hard looking men, a swagger of confidence given to mercenaries who know their trade.

My tail wagged in eager anticipation.

One pulled a knife quickly slashing the ropes, stepped around her and freed the other hand, then tossed the knife into the ground before me.

“Hurry boys…” she coxed, her eyes locked on the man freeing her,  her gaze slipping past him lingering  in my direction, no doubt amused by the presence of the hound dog with a raging hard on. She laughed, until our eyes met…

The corruption is an disease the infected can hide from normal humans, but the waning and waxing of its effect is ever present, eyes are windows into the souls,… channels by which we of the corrupted use to touch into the receptors of another’s senses… or find the reek of the corruption in another.

I could taste it on her,… as she could taste it on me. I recoiled at it instantly.

The expression on her face was washed by confusion. I knew, she sensed it, knew the image of a dog was a paradox, for canines are not affected by the taint.  She began stuttering as hands grabbed her pushing her down to her knees.

I stared at the knife before me… shuddered as if dunked in a bath of ice water… silver.

Glancing to the string of horses, my eyes focused on a bandoleer of silver cross bolts. The heavy cage to which she had been bound.
The woman’s voice staining to redirect the men, “Boy’s… boy’s…”

“Com’ on luv’ lets see your talents again..” The were shifting,  unleashing their members as they positioned themselves.

“Goddamm it!…” Her voice raised in annoyance, the moments mood killed, “Enough!… ” She slapped at at groping hands and pulled herself together. “Stop it!…  The dog!”

“What dog?”

I had already moved away slipping into the darkness, nails clicking on the cobblestones as I loped from the wagons and the ones I recognized as lycan hunters. My mind raced. The luxury of time had been twisted.  I had presumed 18 days before conditions dictated leaving the city,.. with hunters it would have been a delicate extension,… they are honed to pick up the aggressive natures as the moon approaches.. peg their targets. Myself as a hunter had always had the luxury of conscious knowledge in rooting out the corruption.  Yes we can look into another’s eyes and recognize it, some betters then others. I am very good at this,…but I have had decades of practice,  better too in that as the full moon approaches… there is a point when we can sense  the presence nearby… feel them across widening distance. On the cusp of the full moon is a common knowledge all share.

I grappled with the time frame… a week,…ten days…I had to avoid the woman at all costs on the rising moon.  Maybe fourteen at best before the alluring call of the taint would connect us. I had never imagined that the one advantage I held in my hunts would at some point be turned on me.

I slipped from the docks, doubling my intent until I found Xegis trail again and moved quick to leave the threat of the hunters behind me. His scent  moved beyond the docks, climbed a small hill into the better residential district of the area… turning at last into a large house with finely manicured shrubs,… neat,… orderly,… light within still aglow even at this hour. I glanced to a wooden shingle squeaked in its hinges above me,…and understood….finally… FINALLY understood.

When faced with uncertainty and helplessness we seek that which brings us comfort,..,  lean on spouses, friends,.. lovers for that support we need. Even in the cobwebs of the confusion Xegis desired that. I had just been too preset on his words to understand… and so as I turned away from the house, my nails again clicking on the cobblestone as I wandered in thought,… for even in the wave of unsettling events  I found comfort in the realization of this discovery… I knew just where to find Xegis, instincts telling me he wouldn’t be wandering off. I headed back to my clothes forming a path to skirt the hunters… and return…to the structure with the business shingle out front that read,

“Madame Soopes House of Hospitality”

[Bear]

[Bear]

a momentary fantasy

might have been a fantasy…
but damn she was hot

[Bear]

She invades my thoughts again… that nymph … that moment. I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts of her and that… strangely alluring bond that seems familiar and foreign. Days have passed and it remains…vivid and detailed. With a deep breath I try to refocus and open my eyes to the task ahead.

The city lay before me as pondered my options this night. One thing was certain the view from Xegis’ quarters was rather magnificent. The library had been built on a hillside, and from the old sages quarters it gave an unobstructed panorama of the city and the western ocean that lay its foot. The moon was half waned, a sight that always lightened the heavy burden on me. In a few days the new moon would smother the effects of the taint, I would find the remnants of lost humanity once again on me.

I liked the dead of night, when a city slipped into a relative calm, In the pull of the taint my senses were taxed by a multitude of bombarding pricks of humanity. In this stillness I  could finally breath in its quiet elegance, think clearly,…. Well clearer is better said. The curse on me seemed to breath in subdued restraint when others were not about.

I turned to Xegis who sat quietly at his desk, for the most part stoic of attitude. His  eyes still failed to give any glimmer of recognition, and frail hope on my part ever pressing dimmer. For three days it remained as unfocused and purposeless of conscious reaction. Even though I had broken from my search of the city to to intervene on the meals the one named Caduceus brought to him cloaking myself into small unnoticed shapes and discard the drugged drink before Xegis could soil his sole with its effects.. Now I released a heavy sigh bordering between frustration, and surrender grappling with the gnawing possibility that the great mind of Xegis had been lost simply due to age.

It was echoing disappointment in that  I had wandered the city, searching for leads of the mysterious liquid. but met with failure after failure. Few could discern the light odor of the drug, none could  shed any light of its nature. The best lead had been a woman, a sentiment echoed by many, but I had entered her shop and found myself in maelstrom of oaths and curses the moment she set eyes on me. A half breeds life isn’t an easy one.

The phrase “Roseshackle” to the apothecarys met with vacant stares matching Xegis condition, …more frustration,  for I was certain… Xegis in that brief bind had tried to tell me what clouded his mind. None knew of it.

His words in that melding were few,  but direct clues in my mind as I tried to grapple with the memory. I think I would have give hope up but for him naming Zierst, I was certain he held knowledge of value concerning the demon, otherwise I would have long slipped from the city. I had left a wake of death during the full moon and  such matters do not go unnoticed by authorities. They invoke a responses. 

Xegis naming Zierst was enough to dance in the possible repercussions. The hints regarding the fate of Aldaris heavy chains on me to hold  me to the old man’s fate. There was no way I could leave this place, not with troubling allegations concerning her lingering in my mind.
I had to know,.., had to peel back that blanket on his mind.

I crossed the room again to him, naked feet in a soft padding on the wooden floors. Kneeling at his side as I reached up cupping his head. Another attempt at binding seemed necessary. With a resigned sigh, I shifted into my mind….found that core and reached to his…, my senses probing, but the walls too strong,… each press was shoved away, parried, slide away ineffective. I broke the contact, settled back upon my heels and looked upon Xegis'  and saw a slight smile cross his face.

“You’re resisting me aren’t you?” I murmured.

The smile disappeared as he spoke. “Soup,… soup help, I need ….soup”

I sat back on my heels,…the stern determination of his words hit me.  Broth was often seen as a aide to the ill,…perhaps he knew something it might dampen the effects of the drug, maybe purge the body of its touch.  I wrestled with the prospect,…he needed to be completely free of this place, free of any potential chance of the drugging. The only way to be assured would be to remove him, hide him and try to wean the effects of the drug from him. Feed him soup,.. hell, bath him in it if that’s what it took.

Rising I with the decision I moved quick to his wardrobe, yanked a couple of changes of clothes and crossed back, easing him up as I dressed him in the formal robes and slippers of his profession. My own nakedness a minor concern, I might have borrowed his, but they were far too small. To creep the halls of the library naked with a babbling old man was not the most favorable of options.

I raised a finger to my lips for silence as I slipped into the consciousness of a creature from my far flung travels. Xegis hardly reacted as the Mountain Gorilla materialized and reached for him, lifting him over the coarse hairs of my shoulders. With a quick burst I scooted across the room leaped through the window clamping a hand on the sill, and swung down to a lower ledge,… leaped for another hand hold then dropped us easily to the ground. I latched back to my natural form as I slide him from my shoulders and straightened his gown.

“Ready for soup?” I asked, the tone more in playful tease then fact.

He nodded eagerly,.. ”Soup! Yes soup!”

I shushed him again,…raise my hands as I backed into the bushes where my clothes lay hidden. “Soon enough friend,.. we’ll get you soup at the inn.”

He shook his head,.. ”No,.. no soup… need soup. Soup help! ” His eyes seemed frantic at my suggestion glancing nervous down the street.

“At the inn,” my tone holding to a gentle consoling edge, as best as I could. Xegis gave me a peculiar troubling look.

“They have soup there,… good soup.” I turned away stepping into the cover, slightly puzzled as I reached down for the jerkin. and slid the leather over my head.  “I’ve tried their soup, It’s particularly good.”

I reached for the leather pants, sliding one leg in, turning as I did back to Xegis. “If one doesn’t…”

,….or rather turned to where he should have been. A sharp curse slipped from me as I stepped from the bushes. A frantic look right ,.. left… no sign of the old sage.

SHIT

I stamped my foot…my pants falling free to my ankles, oblivious to the fact of my lower nakedness as I stood there hands on hip.

A drugged babbling old man,  nymphs,…conspiracy… what madness have I gotten myself into?

[Bear]

I saw the elk herd for the first time since the summer fires had ravaged my area while crossing through the pass this morning.

It brought a smile finally knowing they had survived.

[Bear]

For the rest of the afternoon I had wandered the city running a list of apothecaries  a local had given me. It hadn't been easy to find one willing to offer the information, a restrained suspicion of outsiders was beginning to edge into the town folk attitudes, and I was certain the list by far was not complete. For the most part the talk was limited of the lycan torn body found in the alley.  As I passed through the district where I had struck,  the rumors were more specific,… a survivor, …the suggestion of 2 lycans prowling,… the name Silverrmane dropped ominously into conversations, fear was beginning to undercut the tone of the oncoming festival.

Silvermane… a name that often followed my travels. An urban legend that passed from taverns to taverns of the werewolf with silver streaked hair. Parents would use that tale to strike caution of the night to their children.

At such I would word I would typically leave towns, but my work here was incomplete.

The satchel I carried once crammed with an assortment of herbs I had gathered in my journeys, nearly emptied. My coin purse instead brimming now with coin, a meager way to fund my journeys but effective. I had learned early those herbs which brought better returns, keeping my senses open for the rare herbs which I hoarded until between towns. As always wolfbane, sold easily, especially where rumors of lycans roamed. Not that it helped much, merely tempering the effects of the taint, and certainly not rising to the heights wive’s tales spoke of it’s qualities to cure or ward.

Yet for each shop I stopped and sold my goods, none could identify the substance within the vial. The yellow liquid within almost odorless to humans, even to my refined senses, the sweet odor seemed evasive.  For now in the late hour I of the evening, I could only mull my failures at the tavern of the inn I stayed crowded. I swirled the vial I held, eying the clear liquid once more before pocketing it within the folds of my leather shirt. Resigned to address the issue in the morrow I turned my attention to the mug of dwarfish ale before me and jostle of the growing numbers of travelers in the inn filtering in to the tavern for like matters.

The sound of a lute drifted above the din of the crowd, the subtle melody I had heard over the previous nights weaving through the crowd.  Sitting before the huge stone fireplace was a satyr, his fingers working smoothly over the pipe,.. his eyes drifting over the crowd  nodding to those who gave him smiles. The gray streaks of his beard signified an older form, seleni perhaps, one of the matured creatures, who typically wandered the lands as story tellers and performers. It was not uncommon to find them frequenting the taverns and inns of the lands of the wilds. That one should come to a large human city, quite unusual.

His companion immediately caught my eye.

Curled at his hooves in her submissive pose, a wood nymph sat, her form straight, hands flat on the bronze skin of her thighs. Her shimmering black hair fell mid-shoulder, framing the narrow face that peered with darting, emerald green eyes. The diaphanous cloth wrapped about her body did little to hide  the marvel of her shape. I was spell bound, my heart racing with the memories of the nymph who had shared my bed, the brief stabbed of pain shooting through my soul. I stared, hard no doubt and her side glance to me, that subtle smile that crossed her face showing her appreciation.

The music of satyr grew louder, as I watched her  the rise and fall of the breath of the nymph as the music took her. The familiar urges of the taint growing in me, my mind wrapped to the seductive creature before me, as the tune weaved, threading itself into my thoughts, those passionate memories I held,… the edge of my vision blurring, until only on her filled my gaze.

She gracefully rose, bare feet stepping with a dancers precision,.. standing before the satyr,  her slender body moving slowly to the beat. Arms rising, the translucent wrap about her body tightening, short on her hips, it barely covered her bottom, but low enough that her movements although tantalizingly close never revealed the treasure between her legs.

I wet my lips, watching her, consumed by her movements and the music, the rolling undulation of her torso, the press of her small breasts against that sheer fabric ,her hard nipples clearly outlined as she danced, twirled, rolling her hips seductively. Turning her head slightly her eyes lifted met mine, and a smile crossed face. She turned slow, keeping her rhythm as she worked her way towards me.  Never breaking her movement, her grace and flow memorizing. The tavern was a blur to me, the other patrons nonexistent. There was only the nymph, the music and the growing lust inside me.

She stepped to the bench on the other side of the table, crawled forward until she knelt before me, bending her head in a roll, her hair swirled, her sweet fragrance filling my nostrils.  Her heartbeat wild excited, I could smell her want,.., the rise of excitement as she performed for me. Leaning back with knees set wide, her short shift rose on her hips, and I could see the lips of her sex glisten with rising desire. I was swelling with my own desire, my member tight in the leather breeches’. The animal lust rising, I could think of nothing more than the fire of desire of want,…need… that compulsion of the taint driving me mad.

She leaned back on the table, torso rolling again,… the invitation too tempting, I leaned forwards reaching out and sliding my hands along her sides, the slow draw down to her hips as I pressed in kissing her along the inner thigh. Her scent strong,.. mind boggling…, gasping at the touch of my lips, she settled back,.. allowing me to slide forward, my lips and tongue glancing along her skin, working itself smoothly as I parted the folds of the fabric, pressed in and kissed moist lips of her sex.

The pace of the music quickening as I slipped my tongue out stoking light, pressing dropping into her furrow , the slow strokes collecting as I savored the nymphs nectar. Lips pressing, sucking at her clit, as I reached in my fingers spreading her lips, then my tongue sweeping in a glancing brush, darting as it dipped and swept lower pulling through her to run at the rim of her sex. I could feel her heart racing, her body trembling, moans and whimpers reaching my ears as her body convulsed with the waves of pleasure sweeping her as I lapped there at the growing moisture.

My other hand reached down struggling with the lacing of my pants, my hard member bent awkward in its confines, appreciative once free, firming hard once the binds released.  I pressed the bench back,…as I pulled from her. Reaching out she eagerly slid across the table under my guidance slipping down to straddle me.. She reached down gripping my hard shaft as she posed herself above, then lowered, slowly letting my thick shaft penetrate, and press in. Her hot walls gripped tight as she lowered, moaning with pleasure, her body shudder with the sheathing of my cock into her. Leaning back and bracing with her elbows on the table, she rolled slow, swallowing me in that silky warmth, riding on me in slow purpose as she savored the fullness of my shaft in her.  Pressing faster letting the tempo flow and match the beat of the music as the action built.

My senses were afire. The taste of her on my lips, the wild tingling of my skin with the slightest contact of her, her scent overwhelming with lust and need, my eyes taking in her consumed look of fucking me, eyes closed, watching the trembles, pursed lips wavering under the sweet sensations. I could feel the wild thumping of her heartbeat, the rise of hot blood sweeping her as she strained to hold back that orgasm, the merging, commingling of the magic which flowed through our souls, wrapping us in an aura of exquisite ecstasy, driving us headlong as we fucked to that pinnacle.

Until I could hold no more, with the eruption which swept me. I groaned, shuddered as I clenched her waist grinding her down on to me…which sent her over the edge. Her cries of pleasure as she released herself to her own orgasm. The magic about us flared,…until the music hit a disconcerting note.

Instantaneously I was aware, gasping for breath as I realized my grip was not to her, but to the table. My pants wet, soiled from my seed. My eyes scanned the room, finding the nymph clenched to the leg of the satyr. Her staunch kneeling pose shattered, as she labored for breath as the waves of spasms still seemed to sweep her. As she collected herself, she gave me a knowing smile, eyes bursting yet with excitement.
The Satyr was staring at her with confusion, taking in first the gasping  reaction of the nymph, then searching, wandering the crowd for understanding until his eyes fixed on me still panting. His eyes burned onto me letting me know of my transgression.

I was confused, the image had been so rich in realty, but it was the magic that had bound us.  That I was certain, the satyr himself had wove those strings with his powerful magical music. What the nymph and I shared had flowed along the filaments of that music. I gave his stern glare a grin.  I was  hardly  in remorse of having filled my need at with his sweet succulent servant

I could do nothing other than arrange my satchel to hide the wet spot on my pants as I rose. Slowly weaving through the maze of tables I returned to my room to clean myself up, and sleep, though my rest that night restless, the bittersweet memories of my nights with Aldaris consuming my dreams.

[Bear]

[Bear]

My thoughts were warped, for the moment. How would I have reacted if a naked man suddenly 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,…something small, insignificant. 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 adding a portion of 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. “Remember, the juice is bad”

His head nodded slightly, an illusion perhaps my words had left a mark. I was uncertain and now 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]

[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?”

[Author]

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