The Witcher - Stories from The Path RP

Clambering up the slope, Ard finds himself looking at a standoff in the middle of the ruins. Almost dead center in the ruins lies the woman who screamed, a well dressed noble from the look of it, who moans in pain and clutches at an arrow embedded deep in her thigh. Her face is currently scrunched up in pain, but Ard gets the sense that she'd be quite attractive in normal circumstances, at least for a human.
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Behind the noble stands another woman, this one clearly a warrior of some sort. She's dressed in leathers, and wields a deadly looking sword protectively around the wounded woman. Ard sees that her eyes are bright yellow, and deduces that she's probably what humans call a 'witcher'.
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On the opposite side of the noble, and looking at her with clear hostile intent, stand three Aen Seidhe, seemingly members of the scoia'tael resistance group, or so their appearance would suggest.
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The three elves advance, bow and swords brandished with lethal intent. "Stay out of this, Vatt'ghern. Our quarrel isn't with you." The witcher takes up a defensive stance with her sword. "You've attacked my client, which kind of makes it my quarrel, Aen Seidhe." The elves scowl and draw closer. Clearly, blood is about to be shed.
Ard was about to turn around and let the lesser races take out their grievances on each other, but the involvement of a witcher intrigued him. The Aen Seidhe would probably have no chance to kill the human woman with the mutated warrior protecting her. He rode his horse towards the stand off, and called to the elves, holding up his hand, 'Caelm, evellienn!' He continued in Elder Speech, his manner of speech and vocabulary sounded a bit strange and nearly ancient to the elves, «Is today such a ripe day for banditry, Scoia'tael? What did this Human woman do to make you throw caution to the wind and challenge a vatt'ghern for her life? You know you cannot win this fight, do you not, Aen Seidhe?»

It was clear that he was no ordinary elf or part of the Scoia'tael, intoning the name as if he wasn't an elf himself.
 
"Good, I do hope you at least know how to wield a sword just in case. Now then, since you've proven quite brave, do give me your name." Mirellia nods giving the coach a rare amused smile, before returning to her usual strict expression. And as they arrived at the mansion, the sexy milf sighed, Hah. Just how different can a father and his son's abilities be? She thought to herself as she readies her armor for tomorrow. Using the hour to swing her gwyhyr around in the huge room, practising her foot work, which was still amazing despite wearing heels. Since Mirellia's lessons with Gustav mainly had her wearing nothing but lingerie, and high heels. She gulped, biting her lips as she recalled her past experiences, Hah. No, that can wait after dinner. She thought to herself, as Mirellia's lust had to be quenched.
The coachman blushes, but returns her smile. "Not a sword, my lady, but I'm trained with a crossbow. My name is Caster."

Inside the room, Mirellia manages to work up a healthy sweat, the size of the room proving useful in giving the noblewoman enough space to practice her skills with a sword. After an hour passes, she hears a knock on the door.
 
“Nice to meet you. I’m Danielle if you don’t already know.” The redhead rode her horse while making conversation along the way, hearing the elf speak. “Well, that’s an exaggeration. The bigger reason for why I’m in the court is because of my skills at enchanting. Dancing is one of my skills though and it helps.”
Gynnie chuckles, the sound mixing pleasantly with the steady clop of the horse's hooves. "Evidently. Enchanting, so, you're some sort of mage? You can make things magical, right?"
 
"Since you don't ask where we are going, it mean you right now have no direction of joyrney. That is fine" She offert him her hand and let him sit behind her in the saddle. Her horse give voice of disapprobite, but Trista calm him down by few words.
"Okey, hug me Gustav. Don't be shy, I'm not made of glass, it can be tighter." She said joking.
Gustav climbs up behind her, requiring little encouragement. His hands slip around her waist, bringing the two close together. Bogrid rolls his eyes, as the group resumes their travel towards Ard Carraigh. As the horse moves, Trista begins to feel a very sizeable bulge press against her rear, but Gustav doesn't seem to acknowledge it. "So, you're from the griffin school. I heard that a griffin school witcher was killed by a manticore not long ago, a little way from here. Someone you knew?"
 
Gynnie chuckles, the sound mixing pleasantly with the steady clop of the horse's hooves. "Evidently. Enchanting, so, you're some sort of mage? You can make things magical, right?"
"Well, yes. My husband is the court mage and is much better at spells and what not...but he never just had that flair to giving objects that magical life as much as I did. I know a few spells, though nothing too amazing."
 
Magic, as can be expected of Isabella... Varrin sighed mentally after finding no trace of his sister. Then he saw Aelle grinning at him and started to wonder. How long has she known I was here? And why is she keeping quiet? Is she working on orders from Isabella? Or is she Isabella disguised by an illusion? Or am I overthinking this? In any case I think I have overstayed my welcome. Taking a handkerchief out from a pocket the young man did his best to clean his hand, then to silently remove any trace of his seed on the door and the floor. Afterwards he put his cock in his pants and headed to his room. I think that's enough excitement for tonight...
Varrin feels himself drifting to sleep almost the moment his body touches the bed. His dreams are vivid and lustful, before he's awakened the next morning by a small bump on his leg. "Hey, brother, time to get up." Opening his eyes, he sees Madeline looking at him from a small couch in his chambers, her legs withdrawing after giving him a soft kick.
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"You've got to help Isabella and I, and Issie is out, so I have you all to myself today." Her voice is smoky and seductive like Isabella's, but where the elder sister's voice carries a tone of implicit danger, Madeline's is almost addictively pleasant. Her legs, which last night had Aelle between them, reach out to prod Varrin yet again. "Come on, wake up!"
 
Varrin feels himself drifting to sleep almost the moment his body touches the bed. His dreams are vivid and lustful, before he's awakened the next morning by a small bump on his leg. "Hey, brother, time to get up." Opening his eyes, he sees Madeline looking at him from a small couch in his chambers, her legs withdrawing after giving him a soft kick.
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"You've got to help Isabella and I, and Issie is out, so I have you all to myself today." Her voice is smoky and seductive like Isabella's, but where the elder sister's voice carries a tone of implicit danger, Madeline's is almost addictively pleasant. Her legs, which last night had Aelle between them, reach out to prod Varrin yet again. "Come on, wake up!"
Seeing his sister and what she was wearing was enough to wake Varrin up fully – and to get him hard. “I'm awake, sis, I'm awake. Like I could sleep when such a beauty is in my room.” He sat in the bed, not bothering to cover his hard on. “Good morning to you too, sis. What can I do for you?” He asked, trying not to think about what he had seen last night.
 
Ard was about to turn around and let the lesser races take out their grievances on each other, but the involvement of a witcher intrigued him. The Aen Seidhe would probably have no chance to kill the human woman with the mutated warrior protecting her. He rode his horse towards the stand off, and called to the elves, holding up his hand, 'Caelm, evellienn!' He continued in Elder Speech, his manner of speech and vocabulary sounded a bit strange and nearly ancient to the elves, «Is today such a ripe day for banditry, Scoia'tael? What did this Human woman do to make you throw caution to the wind and challenge a vatt'ghern for her life? You know you cannot win this fight, do you not, Aen Seidhe?»

It was clear that he was no ordinary elf or part of the Scoia'tael, intoning the name as if he wasn't an elf himself.
The scoia'tael look to Ard with surprise, the archer nocking an arrow to his bow and aiming it towards the huntsman, though he doesn't yet draw. Giving a confused and angry glance, the leader speaks to Ard, still keeping an eye on the witcher, in a more common form of elder speech. "We're no bandits, stranger.This woman's father murdered hundreds of elves, friend. He'd kill you too, if he had the chance. We'll use the girl to draw out the father, and then both shall suffer the consequences."

The witcher cracks her neck, the sound audible across the ruins, before replying in the same language. "You'll try. The girl has nothing to do with what her father did. Listen to the stranger here. Move towards the girl, and you'll die." The woman's yellow eyes then fix on Ard. "Stay back, Aen Seidhe", the witcher mistakes Ard for a common elf, "When the blades start swinging, you don't want to be closeby." She smirks. "Unless you want to help out."
 
"Well, yes. My husband is the court mage and is much better at spells and what not...but he never just had that flair to giving objects that magical life as much as I did. I know a few spells, though nothing too amazing."
"Well, I was wondering, do you do freelance work? I have this dagger from my father that I- shit." She sighs, as the two horses stop at a stone bridge, atop a river. In front of it stands a hulking creature made of rock and grey flesh.
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Gynnie shakes her head. "The damn troll keeps blocking the bridge. We could try to reason with the troll to help us across, or head through the woods to find another ford. Or, well... We could maybe try killing the troll, if you think you're up to it. It'd be a shame to do that, though, he's annoying, but generally harmless."
 
"Well, I was wondering, do you do freelance work? I have this dagger from my father that I- shit." She sighs, as the two horses stop at a stone bridge, atop a river. In front of it stands a hulking creature made of rock and grey flesh.
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Gynnie shakes her head. "The damn troll keeps blocking the bridge. We could try to reason with the troll to help us across, or head through the woods to find another ford. Or, well... We could maybe try killing the troll, if you think you're up to it. It'd be a shame to do that, though, he's annoying, but generally harmless."
Danielle heard the elf speak and nodded. "I carry a few tools with me. I'm sure I could take a look at that when we have time."

But before she had a chance to really get into it, their journey was blocked. She looked at the size of that monster. "I don't really see a reason it deserves to die. I'm sure if we just ask it nicely, it won't be a problem. Even something like this is still sapient and it's faster to just get it's permission than take a detour. Besides, it wards off bandits getting too close to town."
 
Seeing his sister and what she was wearing was enough to wake Varrin up fully – and to get him hard. “I'm awake, sis, I'm awake. Like I could sleep when such a beauty is in my room.” He sat in the bed, not bothering to cover his hard on. “Good morning to you too, sis. What can I do for you?” He asked, trying not to think about what he had seen last night.
Madeline smirks, clearly fully aware of the impact she's had on her brother. "Well, firstly, you can help me get dressed. As much as I'd like to go outside like this, it probably wouldn't end well." She turns around, giving Varrin a look at her heart shaped ass, before stepping into a dress the same colour as her underclothes, a tight and revealing number that straddles the bounds of propriety. Pulling the dress up, she gestures to her back, for Varrin to do the lacing. "Afterwards, we're going shopping."
 
The scoia'tael look to Ard with surprise, the archer nocking an arrow to his bow and aiming it towards the huntsman, though he doesn't yet draw. Giving a confused and angry glance, the leader speaks to Ard, still keeping an eye on the witcher, in a more common form of elder speech. "We're no bandits, stranger.This woman's father murdered hundreds of elves, friend. He'd kill you too, if he had the chance. We'll use the girl to draw out the father, and then both shall suffer the consequences."

The witcher cracks her neck, the sound audible across the ruins, before replying in the same language. "You'll try. The girl has nothing to do with what her father did. Listen to the stranger here. Move towards the girl, and you'll die." The woman's yellow eyes then fix on Ard. "Stay back, Aen Seidhe", the witcher mistakes Ard for a common elf, "When the blades start swinging, you don't want to be closeby." She smirks. "Unless you want to help out."
«Using the offspring as bait? Perhaps a sound strategy but cowardly nonetheless. You think the dh'oine will kill fewer elves if you kill this man and his daughter? Another will come to take his place, and then another» Ard spoke to the Scoia'tael leader, «These lands have slipped from your grasp long ago, Aen Seidhe. You'll accomplish nothing but more death with your vendetta.»

He looked to the witcher, «If you insist on fighting it out, I won't interfere.»

Ard kept his distance, but kept an eye and ear out for any dirty tricks played by either side.
 
Danielle heard the elf speak and nodded. "I carry a few tools with me. I'm sure I could take a look at that when we have time."

But before she had a chance to really get into it, their journey was blocked. She looked at the size of that monster. "I don't really see a reason it deserves to die. I'm sure if we just ask it nicely, it won't be a problem. Even something like this is still sapient and it's faster to just get it's permission than take a detour. Besides, it wards off bandits getting too close to town."
"I agree. All right, then." Gynnie dismounts from her horse, and approaches the troll, who crosses his arms and makes a petulant expression that reminds Danielle of when her son was an infant. "No! No bridge! No crossy!"
 
The coachman blushes, but returns her smile. "Not a sword, my lady, but I'm trained with a crossbow. My name is Caster."

Inside the room, Mirellia manages to work up a healthy sweat, the size of the room proving useful in giving the noblewoman enough space to practice her skills with a sword. After an hour passes, she hears a knock on the door.

"Hah." Mirellia lets out a satisfied smile, Good, even in a dress my skills are still... Her thought was interrupted as she heard the knock. She sheathes her precious rapier, and opens it. "Yes, what is it?" She asked as the door opens, revealing her slightly sweaty appearance, which just seemed to make her visage more erotic.
 
Madeline smirks, clearly fully aware of the impact she's had on her brother. "Well, firstly, you can help me get dressed. As much as I'd like to go outside like this, it probably wouldn't end well." She turns around, giving Varrin a look at her heart shaped ass, before stepping into a dress the same colour as her underclothes, a tight and revealing number that straddles the bounds of propriety. Pulling the dress up, she gestures to her back, for Varrin to do the lacing. "Afterwards, we're going shopping."
“Yeah, while I am sure most people will be quite happy if you go out dressed in just that, it will cause quite the scandal.” Varrin openly ogled his sister's ass as he got off the bed and moved closer. “Let me give you a hand...” He quickly laced up the dress, having helped women put on their dresses in the past – though more often than not he had helped them take them off instead.

“All done.” He announced once he was finished. “Let me change my clothes and we can go. Have you decided where we're going? Any particular shops you have in mind?” Varrin went to his wardrobe and opened it, then looked through the clothes inside and chose an outfit almost identical to what he had worn the previous day. He stripped down to his underclothes and started putting on the chosen outfit, not caring that his sister was watching.
 
«Using the offspring as bait? Perhaps a sound strategy but cowardly nonetheless. You think the dh'oine will kill fewer elves if you kill this man and his daughter? Another will come to take his place, and then another» Ard spoke to the Scoia'tael leader, «These lands have slipped from your grasp long ago, Aen Seidhe. You'll accomplish nothing but more death with your vendetta.»

He looked to the witcher, «If you insist on fighting it out, I won't interfere.»

Ard kept his distance, but kept an eye and ear out for any dirty tricks played by either side.
The leader turns fully to face Ard. "You think you're better than us?" Ard notices that the Aen Seidhe now speaks in the common tongue of the humans. "What are you, some bootlicking dog?" The archer raises his bow, pointed at Ard.
 
"I agree. All right, then." Gynnie dismounts from her horse, and approaches the troll, who crosses his arms and makes a petulant expression that reminds Danielle of when her son was an infant. "No! No bridge! No crossy!"
The troll would clearly be a dangerous opponent, and while Danielle wasn't confident about her odds of facing it in direct combat would be poor, but the redhead offered a calm smile, not getting to close until it was ready to allow her. "We don't mean to disturb you. We just want your permission to cross. What would you want to convince you?"
 
"Hah." Mirellia lets out a satisfied smile, Good, even in a dress my skills are still... Her thought was interrupted as she heard the knock. She sheathes her precious rapier, and opens it. "Yes, what is it?" She asked as the door opens, revealing her slightly sweaty appearance, which just seemed to make her visage more erotic.
In the doorway stands Gunther, clad in an elegant doublet and drinking in the sight of his daughter-in-law's body. "My dear... I thought I'd escort you to dinner, if you'd like." He holds out an arm.
 
“Yeah, while I am sure most people will be quite happy if you go out dressed in just that, it will cause quite the scandal.” Varrin openly ogled his sister's ass as he got off the bed and moved closer. “Let me give you a hand...” He quickly laced up the dress, having helped women put on their dresses in the past – though more often than not he had helped them take them off instead.

“All done.” He announced once he was finished. “Let me change my clothes and we can go. Have you decided where we're going? Any particular shops you have in mind?” Varrin went to his wardrobe and opened it, then looked through the clothes inside and chose an outfit almost identical to what he had worn the previous day. He stripped down to his underclothes and started putting on the chosen outfit, not caring that his sister was watching.
"Let's see..." Madeline looks upwards, as though she's only thinking about it now. "Well, I need some new dresses. I saw a nice sword the other day. Ooh, and there was one other thing... But I'll let that be a surprise." She watches Varrin change with interest. "Afterwards, if you've been good, I'll let you spend some time in the local brothel, my treat." She smiles, as though that's the most normal gift in the world.
 
In the doorway stands Gunther, clad in an elegant doublet and drinking in the sight of his daughter-in-law's body. "My dear... I thought I'd escort you to dinner, if you'd like." He holds out an arm.

"Ah, sorry has an hour already passed?" Mirellia said in a shocked tone, "I appreciate the offer, but I will need to clean myself up, as I've been touching up on my fencing skills. I will also need to change, and I wouldn't want you to wait. So please, head to the dining room first, I will follow shortly." She said, and after Gunther replies, she closes the door. Though she doesn't really check if he does leave, before placing her blade near the bed, as she removes her dress, revealing toned body, her erotic lingerie.
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Mirellia then cleans up, before picking out another dress, this one a had a shorter skirt, but had more or less the same design as the ones she usually wears. After wearing it, Mirellia heads to the dining room.
 
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