Colonizing the Dark Continent (For Weiss Ritter)

[Xatarias]

Telai gives you a concerned look, but doesn't pry further. It seems the lieutenant has become familiar enough with your supernatural tendencies to not ask questions... That and she probably recognizes the tactical advantage of a cohort of hillfolk under your command. Explaining the situation to your new followers doesn't take too much effort and you resume your trek to Newport within the hour. You form a bizarre train with you and Telai in front and a line of wide-eyed, hulking beastmen rediscovering the world around them.


During the journey Telai, makes efforts to communicate to the Hillfolk, but it soon becomes apparent that without your supernatural mental link, they are ill-equipped to understand human speech. That's not for lack of trying, the dusky southerner constantly mimes gestures while speaking to your golden henchman, and laughs delightedly in the sporadic moments of mutual understanding. Lacking a name conducive to human speech, the lieutenant is soon to give him one.


"Shen'ri," she explains helping you up a moss-covered boulder. "It smiling sky in the clan tongue. Because of his bright pelt... It was that or goldie and... Well, that didn't really seem to fit."


You pause for a moment, allowing the rest of your company to bound up the hilly rise. It's well past noon at this point and the trees are growing sparser. The coast is close and upon reaching it, it will only be an hours march along the beach before reaching Newport.


"So what are we planning to do? Do we try and reunite with the company at the fort or try and gather information in town first?"

 

[Weiss Ritter]

The journey was an uncomfortable one for Nathaniel Every awed noise the Hillfolk made as they rediscovered what it meant to be free reminded him of the psychic link that bound them and of how exposed their band was in these woods. Objectively, this was probably the safest he'd ever been in the Dark Continent's wilderness, yet Scruffy's words left him feeling uneasy enough to look for potential threats behind every shadow and scrap of cover.


The silver lining to it all was Telai's efforts to communicate with the Hillfolk. Her success was mixed so far, but progress was progress and if they insisted on becoming part of his expedition, then being able to meaningfully interact with at least his officers was going to be mandatory. That and it was a relief to see the southerner be so comfortable around the band. He couldn't be sure the rest of his expedition, much less the inhabitants of Newport, would be so quick to accept them.


"It's better than anything I probably could have come up with," Nathaniel said idly as he pondered their next step. "Hrm...I suggest we stop by the fort first. If something really has happened, like the Warchief suggested, the town will probably have been struck first and hardest. Also, I'd like to see how our followers react to our new friends. Better one of us has to listen to them complain a little before sucking it up than risk a violent misunderstanding with a drunken sailor not answerable to anyone."

 

[Xatarias]

You reach the coast in short order and turn south. Soon, the crooked features of Newport come into focus. The shanty town is as dilapidated as ever, but even from a distance you note a certain change in its atmosphere. Where once there was a clamor of lawless uproar, now there is only silence... Broken only by the sudden crackle of muskets discharging or the thunder of firing cannon.


You take cover atop a sand dune behind a scrubby brush. The scene is dire. The land you had cleared for sugar plantations and subsistence farming is now a no-man's-land riddled with smoking craters and destroyed shacks. The fort your company had been constructing stands unfinished, the labor interrupted by enemy bombardment. Your mercenaries have shored up the half-finished palisade with earthen embankments, many of which bear indents from the impact of cannonballs.


At the opposite end of the hellish landscape is still-standing portion of Newport and a haphazard construction of fortified gun emplacements. Looking through a spyglass, it seems that of the three guns trained on the fort, only one is firing. The other two lie crooked on their carriages, clearly sabotaged and useless without time and expert labor, none of which seem to be forthcoming.


Unfortunately, the remaining cannon is firing periodically and you watch as the weapon belches forth its screaming projectiles, slamming into your company's defenses in a shower of splinters and sand.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel's sense of unease only grew as the company advanced closer and closer to Newport. Part of him wished that Scruffy had been exaggerating, misinformed, or even outright lying. The sound gunshots cracking through the air put an end to that desperate hope even before the war-torn landscape came into sight.


Yet in some ways, it didn't seem as bad as the young Brightland had feared. Judging from what he could see through his spyglass, Newport was almost certain in an iron grip, his expedition forced out and besieged behind their partially completed fort, but two of the three canons his enemy wielded seemed irreparably damaged and the fact that his mercenaries still fought on implied the force against them lacked the numbers or conviction to simply take their position by storm.


"I'm going to see if I can neutralize that cannon and create a distraction," Nathaniel glanced to Telai as he lowered the spyglass. She may have been the military expert between them, but it did seem that even doubling back into the forest just long enough to emerge closer to the fort still carried the risk of them being shot at while they were exposed and vulnerable on the cover-less coast. Plus, that cannon likely was the single greatest threat on the battlefield.


Nathaniel reached out with his mind once again, using the spyglass to observe the cannon and pick out a target as needed. True, direct control of one's mind was Agatha's gift, but the loading and firing of a cannon was a mildly complex procedure that involved manipulating some potentially very dangerous items. Large quantities of gunpowder and heavy iron balls chief among them. All he needed was a good opportunity to exploit with a flick of his mind. Perhaps the cannoneer lighting the fuse might accidentally flick his ignited stick towards the gunpowder reserves closely enough that a sudden mental assault could compel him to drop it on top of them? Something that destroyed that cannon would have been ideal but an opportunity to regroup and plan with his soldiers was all that was strictly needed.

 

[Xatarias]

(Intellect roll: 13)


It doesn't take long for your consciousness to find an unwitting target. The gun crew is comprised of three individuals. One is in the process of swabbing the gun barrel as another, likely the commander, busies himself adjusting the sights. It's the final member, fetching a bag of powder from a nearby iron lock box, that catches your attention.


You reach out as quickly as you can, seeking to dominate the man and cause some form of mayhem. But before you can even muster the strength to break the feeble barriers of his ungifted mind, another psychic presence bursts onto the scene and slaps down your mental probe. The unseen psychic then begins to expertly crawl along the tendril of your extended consciousness, seeking your location. You only just manage to rip yourself, painfully, from their seeking grasp and retreat within the cover of the nearby jungle's dense psychic landscape.


You sense the ambusher futilely searching for you for several moments before they give up and retreat back into hiding.


"Nathanial?"


Telai's concerned look makes you aware of the dribble of blood running from your nose.


(Minor mental wound: [/][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ])

 

[Weiss Ritter]

"I'm fine," Nathaniel said before he felt the trickle of blood down his nose. His hand reflexively wiped it away and he frowned at the sight of the crimson smear. The psychic presence had scratched his mind, nothing more, but the physical component of that wound was worrying. Wielded properly, his brain had the potential to be an unstoppable juggernaut, but if his body's endurance was part of the equation too...


"I had feeling something like this might happen. The enemy, the Lentani if the squirrel warchief was correct, have a Gifted individual of their own. A skilled one," He glanced back and forth between the southerner and what he could make out of the battlefield. "I didn't think they have sent such a force here just to acquire Newport, and once I found out that I wasn't the only one with this power and that it had been available to my homeland for quite some time..."


It begged the question of precisely which member of the Lentani expedition was the wielder of the Gift. The skill with which they assaulted him was clear, but Nathaniel had been so blindsided by it he wasn't able to learn much more than that. Cynthia? She almost certainly had the mind to make for an excellent psychic duelist. The hulking captain of her mercenary guard? It didn't seem likely, but such a combination of brawn and brains would have been truly horrifying. Perhaps even the maid? The woman struck him as a bit too willful for a humble domestic servant, and creature comforts aside taking a handmaiden like her along seemed like a questionable decision given this land's undeveloped nature.


He would have to think more of the subject later. For now, there was a battle to be waged.


"I may be able to re-engage them if I have to, but if they weren't expecting me before they will now. Telai, can we safely move around to the fort through the forest, or do you need that cannon taken out?"

 

[Xatarias]

Telai surveys the battlefield with a practiced eye.


"Honestly, they haven't set up for this well at all. Drail made the right choice with those embankments. They can hammer away with that piece for days without doing real damage... So long as they don't get lucky that is. If they had a mortar or a howitzer, I'd be worried but as it stands..." She shrugs. "It's a standoff. They might not be able to break the fort, but the cannon is a pretty effective tool to deter any assault we might attempt. A double load of grapeshot tends to complicate heroic charges.


"As for getting to the fort, it's just a matter of timing their loading patterns and making a break from cover... I'd be more worried about snipers or an ambush from a squad holed up in one of those craters... Of course, you could probably give us advanced warning of something like that."


You could indeed... If you wanted to reveal your position to the Lentani's Gifted.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel nodded almost immediately. "Gladly, though the enemy's gifted individual will probably sense me. As long as I remain active, I should be able to stop them from attacking you mentally, but if there are sharpshooters waiting they may be able to tell them where to shoot. You should prepare accordingly,"


Unless Telai objected, Nathaniel would have taken whatever cover offered him a good enough view of the battlefield to work his mental magic. Once again his mind reached out, this time more like an advancing phalanx than a single lighting-quick thrust. If the Gifted directly attacked him again, it would likely be without surprise or a distraction giving them the advantage. Part of Nathaniel hoped they would take up the challenge. He was curious about them and curious about how his power and skill would fare against theirs.

 

[Xatarias]

(Intellect roll: 19)


You spread your consciousness out like a tide, searching the battlefield like a group of hounds baying after a fox. Telai was right to be cautious about the unseen nooks and crannies of the no-man's-land. In it, you find a war party of lentani mercenaries playing a deadly game of cat and mouse with a less numerous force of your own crew. Passing over a number of bodies, it seems like your side has been getting the better of the exchange, but it was only a matter of time before numbers began to outmatch skill.


The lentani gifted has either fled the scene or chosen to merely observe your search and you do not detect any trace of them.


Telai frowns as you relay your newfound information. The half dozen foes working to pin down your two unseen comrades are in the middle of the no-man's-land. Their location couldn't be more inconvenient, far from the tree line and the fort. No doubt careful movements allowed them to assume their precarious position, moving under darkness and ducking from cannon fire. Such a tedious process you don't have time for.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel's jaw clenched, grinding his teeth together once his physic scouting was complete. Judging from Telai's reaction, they were on the same page: even if they could afford to leave two such talented members of their expedition behind, running a gauntlet of half a dozen Lentani sharpshooters was too risky.


The absence of his psychic opponent was concerning enough to give Nathaniel pause, but he couldn't think of a better course of action other than continuing his mental assault. Sniping a six enemy soldiers in cover was probably beyond Telai's capabilities and the Hillfolk following them would be cut to pieces if commanded to charge across a relatively open field with the enemy this fortified.


The young man took a breath to steady himself and attempted to do one last sweep of the battlefield and the incomplete fort the bulk of his followers were stationed behind to ensure the Lentani gifted wouldn't just ravage them while he was distracted. "Telai? I am going to support the soldiers we have in the no man's land. Feel free to recommend which targets I should strike at for maximum effect."


If nothing else happened to give him pause, Nathaniel would have reached out to the first of his half-dozen targets. His mental blow was meant to strike like lightning: quickly and with a destructive force that would leave nothing in its wake while he move on to the next target.

 

[Xatarias]

Unaided by psychic senses of her own, Telai doesn't provide much in the way of tactical assistance. She does level her musket on a rock, though what accuracy the smoothbore will have at this range is likely abysmal. Short of charging into the no-man's-land with your band, there isn't much physical assistance you can provide...


(Intellect roll: 22, critical!)


Luckily you aren't restrained by the limitations of a typical warrior. You lash out from your muted mental state into one of vengeful reckoning. You feel the Lentani psychic remerge, seemingly trying to use their fighters as bait to entrap you, but you are too fast. You dominate one mercenary, causing him to discharge his weapon into the back on his companion. Another lurks dangerously close to flanking your own pair of troops, so you force him to break cover and freeze in full view of your soldier's line of fire. A pistol cracks and you spirit yourself away just before a bullet enters your host's brain.


Terror spreads through the lentani like a plague and their remaining soldiers flee back towards their fortifications. A flurry of gunfire follows their departure, but none of the shots land. Just as the last enemy soldier is about to dive for cover, a thunderous crack rings out from the fort and the man tumbles to the ground in a spray of red mist.


Your previously trapped soldiers make good on the situation and scramble back to the safety of the fort. Sniper fire rakes their position but brings neither of them down.


The cannon sounds again as if in frustration and its projectile bounces spectacularly but impotently against the opposing earthen fortifications.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

If fear and pain could lend strength to Nathaniel's psionic attacks, then for the moment it seemed like more general-purpose adrenaline could as well. Excitement coursed through the Avalonian's mind as he nimbly danced about the Lentani Gifted's attempt to trap him only to spring upon the first of his targets. At first, he'd planned to "merely" crush the mercenary's mind the moment their defenses were swept away, but a thought occurred to him at the last moment. Could he take control of his enemies as Agatha had? Alestra described that as Agatha's unique gift, but what if that simply meant she was particularly proficient at it? He had gotten a good look at the psychic fetter she'd woven around the Hillfolk, perhaps if he...


Yes...yes!


Nathaniel felt a sense of glee that he normally reserved for cracking a puzzle or acing a test that was allegedly far too advanced for a mind as young as his. His control was almost certainly less refined and sturdy compared to what the professional assassin was capable of, but it was control!


It wasn't until the second enemy soldier died under his control that Nathaniel remembered he was playing with lives. The notion gave him pause and even caused a frown to form on his features even after the surviving Lentani mercenaries fled back to Newport, but it wasn't enough to dampen the enthusiasm twisting about in his gut, not the almost electrical sensation running through his body as other parts of his mind rushed to contemplate the potential applications of this power of his.


Suffice to say, the young man was quite eager to turn towards the incomplete fort and gesture for the others to follow now that the immediate threats had been neutralized.

 

[Xatarias]

(Speed roll: 5... *Foreheadsmack*)


Telai's eyes widen at the carnage you wreck across the battlefield and she gives you a look of concern... No, fear. While your Hillfolk companions run with you towards the fort without hesitation, the lieutenant hesitates for moment before following. You descend into the smoke-filled maze, making your way towards the rest of your company.


It's easy to get turned around in the haze, your eyes itching from the acrid touch of gun smoke. Equal parts excellent visual recall and luck carry you forward towards the fort, your companions close on your heels. You're making good time. It shouldn't be long before. You round a bend and-


"Hey runt."


You spin on your heels towards the hulking shadow that emerges from behind a broken carriage. Completely unaware of the ambusher's psychic and physical presence, you are ill-equipped to counter their reckless move towards you. You real from the impact of something long and heavy against your forehead. A clothe reeking of coliform is pressed to your mouth. Your last sensation is your body being dragged over the rough terrain as you companions stampede, unaware of your predicament.


Physical Wounds: [X][X][X]


....


The world blurs into focus and you immediately wish it hadn't. Your head feels like it's been split open and the slightest sounds send slivers of pain through your brain. Your entire body's aches take on a strange rhythm, timed to the creak of hemp rope. It's then you realize that you have been bound, hands and feet over back, and suspended from the ceiling... You're also naked.


Your slow orbit allows you take in the surroundings and familiarity strikes. You are in your room at the skittering crab!


"Someone's finally come to."


A undignified squirm turns you towards your desk where one very satisfied Cynthia Lentani lounges in your chair, reading your notes. Your rival is looking as fit as ever in her tight skirt and carefully fitted blouse. Every piece of finery, every lustrous strand of raven hair Is perfectly in place as your captor nonchalantly pushes her golden spectacles further up her nose. Other than her initial comment, she doesn't acknowledge your presence, seemingly intent on invading your privacy in a manner more dignified than leering at your naked, struggling form.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

(...Yeah, I'm not even surprised. My luck is amazing that way! )

Telai's expression wasn't lost upon Nathaniel as he glanced over his shoulder. It wasn't entirely unexpected either, especially in light of her encounter with Agatha, but they didn't the luxury of debating moral philosophy for the time being. Besides, where would might of Avalon be if their ancestors had balked at every new form of waging war? At the first crossbow and musket?


One hand rested on the hilt of his rapier as the group advanced toward the fort. His guard wasn't lowered by any means, but the young man's superb senses weren't actively scrutinizing every bit of brush and cover as they might have been if he hadn't thought he'd just neutralized the immediate threat.


When the hulking figure emerged, its voice likely a familiar one, Nathaniel spun about, his blade already leaving its sheathe! It....wasn't enough, though. The blow to his head sent him reeling back before he could even confirm whether the Lentani's chief enforcer was his head, and the drugged clothe put an end to whatever struggles or cries for help he might have managed.


"Mmmph...!" His body went limp and while his mouth and mind screamed for his half-dozen burly comrades right there to come to his aid...but to no avail.


....


Nathaniel groaned slightly as he finally came to. His vision was blurred at first, but it didn't stop him from reflexively tensing when he felt the ropes pulling his leanly muscled arms and legs into something resembling a suspended hogtie from the ceiling. The young Brightland's heart pounded and his teeth gritted when he saw where he had been taken. For an instant, he considered remaining as silent as he could to avoid attracting undue attention until he could slip free...and then Cynthia spoke up.


Again he tensed, but this time the humiliation caused his face to begin glowing a faint pink. His eyes flickered over his rival almost reflexively, lingering in...places that weren't strictly called for to analyze a potential threat. The satisfied Lentani might had felt even more so as Nathaniel's surprise and embarrassment cracked that reserved mask of his for a moment before he was able to force some semblance of control back. It took him a moment longer to recover enough to form words without a crack or stutter in his voice, but once he had they came as dry and blistering as any desert...for the moment.


"Are you enjoying the read? Those notes are somewhat rushed. I've been quite...occupied lately, and paper tends to be in short supply around here..."


He tried to take stock of the room and its inhabitants as he turned. Was it "just" he and Cynthia in what had once been his private chambers? Not that slipping free of his bonds and somehow escaping the port while completely stripped would have been easy even then, but...every little bit helped.

 

[Xatarias]

Another survey of the room does reveal another person. Cynthia's maid, Claire stands stock still in the corner, her face pressed up against the wall in a most uncomfortable manner.


"Your timeout is up Claire, you can come out now."


A quiet rustle brings the slight, elfish woman out from your periphery into full view. Her lacey uniform is as well-kept as her employer and stands straight-backed with her hands clasped before her. You can't help but find her dead stare... Unsettling.


"Claire almost unleashed herself on you after your little stunt during the battle, even after I specifically told her not to harm you... You're lucky I caught her when I did, the only time she ever smiles is when she's about to rip apart the mind of some poor fool. But we have rules against that, don't we Claire?"


"Yes Mistress."


Cynthia closes her ledger with a snap and pockets one of your papers. Even craning your neck, you can't tell which of your writings she took particular interest in. Then again, the action might simply be designed to rile you. She locks her violet gaze upon you, utterly unfazed by your exposed situation. In fact, there's something almost predatory the way she looks at you.


"Not that you'd be such an innocent victim, isn't that right Mr. Brightland? Two men dead in the blink of an eye, how monstrous of you... I think I'm starting to understand why Milly took such a liking to you."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel was only faintly surprised to see the maid in the room. If she wasn't at her mistress's side, she was bound to be on an errand and soon to return. It was her position more than anything else that took him off-guard.


"How generous of you, Cynthia Lentani..." His tone was dry but not truly sarcastic. The Avalonian's chestnut eyes met Claire's dead gaze head on. So, she was the Gifted one? Again, the surprise wasn't a tremendous one, but a dozen questions sprang to mind. The chief of which: was she affiliated with the Syndicate? Had the Lentani been in their pocket all along? Was he in a lot more trouble than "merely" being held by a family rival....? Right now, Nathaniel was looking at Claire as if she were a loaded but exquisitely crafted gun pointed at him: with wariness tinged with a desire to find out just what made this weapon tick.


The edge of Nathaniel's mouth twitched when Cynthia snaffled one of his papers away. At the mention of Milly, his expression remained a perfectly impassive mask that might as well have been carved from stone. Waking up naked and bound before a woman who had been rather blatant in her choice of words and lingering glances in his guise as a pirate? That was...disconcerting in a way that the young man was just not accustomed to. A ruthless rival implying a threat against someone who, for all he knew, could have been safely behind the unfinished fort's walls just to try and get a rise out of him? That was a dance he was considerably more adept in.


"You figured me for a monotonous accountant who couldn't fight his way out of a worm-eaten closet? I'm flattered I've exceeded your admittedly low expectations. Were those men I killed innocent victims themselves, though? I can't say it looks that way from my..." He paused for effect. "-current position..."

 

[Xatarias]

"Just men making their way in the world. They deserved their deaths no more than that southerner you keep so close. Although now I won't have to pay the second installment of their salaries now, so thank you for that. Won't help their families any, but such is the harsh reality of life. A hardened business man like yourself can't be bothered by something like a conscience, right? Even though, with your special abilities, you roam amongst us mortals like a wolf amongst sheep."


Cynthia leans in, her lips so close to your own that you can taste the mint on her breath.


"I knew you would be a challenge, Nathanial, but little did I know what a frustration you would become. First, you con me out of my merchandise and vanish into the surrounding jungle. Whether it was your mission to rile the natives into a frenzy, I can't say, but that certainly was the end result. Then your employees object to my little political expansion and exact violence upon my men... I'm not pleased Nathanial. Beyond all of the subterfuge and sabotage, you betrayed my trust, and that wounds me deeply."


She pulls away to cross the room, leaving you to awkwardly swing. You hear the unfastening of a latch and the creak of strained leather. A feather-like touch grazes your flank.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel tried not to flinch as Cynthia leaned in. She was trying to lecture him about remembering that mercenaries were human beings and that the Gift could be a terrible thing to unleash while having his followers bombarded and shot at and idly commenting about how bloodthirsty her made could be with her own Gift? He was tempted to say something suitably pithy, but Cynthia only continued.


Part of him was glad he resisted that urge as the Lentani woman pulled away. Her words gave him pause enough to furrow his brow. "Assuming I believe that you weren't plotting to use whatever combination of force and subterfuge you deemed necessary to seize Newport and leave my expedition and me imprisoned or left in the forest to rot, why did you come to this continent, Miss Cynthia?"


His tone deadly serious and perfectly earnest as he struggled to keep the raven-haired businesswoman at least in the corner of his vision as she left him to hang and sway. Possibilities began to race through his mind. Could Alestra have been wrong about the Syndicate domination of the Gifted in his homeland? Yet, Claire seemed the perfect fit for a brainwashed puppet of the Patron as Agatha had been. Was it possible Cynthia was just another pawn in this? A supplementing plan turned backup if Agatha had been serious about that alliance she advised in her rantings?


The creak of leather and the deceptively gentle touch across his flesh immediately derailed all trains of thought. It was enough to make Nathaniel tense reflexively, but if it was what his selectively sheltered mind guessed it was...then the poor young man would only have been able to realize what it meant an instant before it mattered.

 

[Xatarias]

"Why? I thought you of all people would understand." 


You feel Cynthia's painted lips at your ear, breathing words as if they were the sweet nothings of a familiar lover. Her hand gropes your strained flank, maneuvering your contorted body to you once again are at eye level with the domineering Lentani.


"I'm a member of a well established family with a rich history and deep pockets. I could have resigned myself to being married off, or working in one of our many counting houses... But what's the fun in that?" Her mouth widens, displaying those too-perfect teeth in the well rehearsed imitation of an innocent smile. "Here I have a chance to make my mark. The old guard will beg me to join their ranks after I grow a miserly investment into a veritable gold mine."


Her hand trails down your cheek, down your neck, and finally lingers at your chest, gloved finger idly circling your left nipple.


"I realized early on that this place had a wealth of resources, but my family's specialty is not extraction. Play to your strengths is the first rule of business, so I thought why not start my own ring of elicit enterprises here in Newport, or better yet, legitimate ones? Trade will fill the laborer's pockets, and they'll spend it in my saloons, stores, and whore houses. Newport is set to become a boom town, Nathanial, and I intend to ride its wave to riches."


You feel her hand reach further back.


"The question is, how do you fit into my plans?"

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel flinched, a quiver in his breath as he felt Cynthia's honeyed words brush against his ear. Whether she had planned it from the start or happily stumbled across it out of a natural desire to see her rival stripped, bound, and made a plaything, the Lentani woman had found the crack in Nathaniel's mask and was exploiting it with terribly efficiency.


She could feel Nathaniel's muscles tightening beneath his silken skin as she twisted him about to face her again. It wasn't simply tension. The young man was trying to stop himself from shivering under her intimate touches.


"What?" For a moment, Nathaniel blinked and stared in surprise that was as naked as he.Cynthia was effectively here of her own accord? The small army she had brought with her was not part of some grand Lentani design to crush he and his family, but to fuel her personal ambitions? She could have been lying, but her explanation was not implausible. This could change everyth-


A shiver forced its way down Nathaniel's spine as Cynthia toyed with his quite perk nipple. He tried to clench his jaw, but it wasn't enough to completely suppress the breathless, thoroughly aroused groan wafting up through his lungs.


Gods damn it....!


The young Brightland fought to suppress another quiver and gasp as her hand trailer further down his flesh. She was playing his body as if it were an erotic instrument! The rational part of his mind rushed to process her words in spite of it all and a supreme effort went into maintaining a vaguely dignified expression, but it was impossible to deny what effect her teasing was having as a crimson blush formed over his features and his knees clenched together in a doomed effort to conceal the arousal between his thighs.


"You may need new plans, no matter what you decide," Nathaniel's words were rushed and breathless. He was trying to speak them before a moan or groan could force its way in.  It was important that he did so, Cynthia had convinced him to take a bit of a gamble on her. Not that his current list of options was a substantial one.


"I encountered another individual with abilities like ours," The young man jerked his head towards Claire. "She was posing as a priestess on a missionary mission. She wanted to start a war among the natives to weaken them and tried to kidnap me to ship back to her master to be...conditioned into an agent like her. She claimed more 'drastic' action would be taken since I wasn't subjugating this continent as she and her syndicate wished to and that my 'replacement' would be here in a matter of weeks."


He gave Claire another wary look, though perhaps now Cynthia understood the significance of it. "Before, I thought you were here to crush me as part of our families' feud. After that, I half-expected you to be a part of this syndicate and possibly the way that woman was passing messages to her comrades. If neither of you are, then I doubt they'll be anymore inclined to let you out from under their thumb than they were me."

 

[Xatarias]

Cynthia's trill of laughter gives you a sinking feeling and coherent thought becomes an increasingly unattainable goal as her hand skims still farther down your body.


"A mysterious enemy that seeks to subjugate both of our enterprises? Why Nathanial, it's almost as if you want to distract me from crushing everything you so carefully put in place on this continent. Still, I can't really blame you for telling tales. I'd probably do the same if the tables were turned. Although... I doubt our methods of interrogation would be all that similar."


The dominatrix's leather-clad hand finally finds your hardening member, cradling it almost reverently. Whether her care is out of actual attraction or just the joy of her craft, you cannot say.


"My, my Nathanial," She purrs. "You certainly know how to flatter a girl. Now we're going to try again. Tell me every little detail of your operation, and I'll let you have a breather... Unless you don't want it to stop of course."


You feel a tugging on your sack as a pair of lips engulf one of your exposed balls. Claire works on you like a physician, dangerously navigating the line of supreme pleasure and sharp pain.


"I will warn you though, things might not be so pleasant if you insist on being coy with me." Teeth grazing against your most sensitive parts punctuate Cynthia's thinly veiled threat.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel tried not to flinch as Cynthia laughed. It wasn't unexpected. She wasn't completely wrong in the sense that he would have been quite skeptical of such claims if he hadn't been forced to confront this continent's secrets. Still, he had to-


"What? No, I wouldn't-. A-ah!" The ability to form rational thoughts and coherent sentences was lost to Nathaniel for an exquisite moment as her fingers closed around his soon to be fully hardened manhood. Whether Cynthia acted out of attraction, dedication to her sensual craft, or a mixture of both, she almost certainly would have been pleased by his reaction. The young man's back arched as his head tilted back, a shiver racing down his spine while his hands balled into fists and each of his limbs pulled against the ropes hard enough for audible creaks to echo through the room. He exhaled a breath that came out as much a mewl as a moan.


O-oh gods...


"I-it's not a lie...!" He somehow managed to groan after gasping in shock as Claire's lips locked around his balls one at a time. They were both going to "work" on him until Cynthia was satisfied?!


OhgodsOhgodsOhgods...!


"Mmph...!" Nathaniel bit down on his own lip to muffle the very undignified noises Cynthia and her maid's combined efforts to ravage his body coaxed from him. Not that it mattered, as his entire body silently screamed under the mind-numbing assault of teasing pleasure and pain with each blush, twitch, tug, and throb. He'd expected Claire to be wielded as a more conventional weapon against him. With her emotionless gaze and apparent love for crushing the minds of her foes, how could he not? But no...Cynthia was more creative than that, and her maid seemed every bit as skilled as her mistress in this...exotic means of questioning.


Primale fear began to mingle with the equally primal lust the pair used to quash all efforts at complex thought beyond screaming whatever Cynthia wished to hear. He had to convince her. Not just to avoid whatever punishments the Lentani had in mind, but because this mercantile conflict between them was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Not anymore. Not since he had seen through the Patron's eyes and realized what even a single agent of his was capable of. But...how to convince her?! He could barely manage to do more than inelegantly blubber and moan beneath Cynthia's touch, how could he possibly communicate the horror of those memories?!


...Memories!


"Can she see into my mind?!" Nathaniel all but cried out. "Or supervise mine if you want to see directly?! You have to know...!"


A desperate gamble for desperate times. Could he trust that Claire wasn't some sort of infiltrator who would try to discredit all his claims? That, even if she was on the level or Cynthia elected to view and trust his memories directly his expedition wouldn't still be in the crosshairs of a disaster? No. But right now, the only alternative seemed to be trying to weather Cynthia's interrogation, then somehow making an escape back to his expedition only so they could fight a war against an old rival who might have otherwise had common cause with them...what Agatha had wanted of the Tree and Hill Folk to leave them ripe for the Syndicate's plucking.

 

[Xatarias]

(Charisma roll: 16)


Cynthia nibbles at your ear as she begins stroking your in earnest. Claire grips your legs for more unfettered access to your crotch, her tongue lashing up to the root of your turgid cock before returning to mercilessly tease your aching balls.


"I like this side of you, Nathanial. So compliant. So willing..." Her grip tightens, causing you to swell to borderline painful proportions. "I guess we'll do it your way. Claire dear, stop your fun for a moment and see if Nathanial is being a naughty boy."


"Yes mistress."


Despite her mistress's commands, Claire's administrations don't stop. She continues tugging and teasing, leaving you a fitful wreck of lust and frustration... A perfect target for psychic invasion. You feel Claire's consciousness sidle up to your own, sensual as anything else you've experienced so far. The quiet torturess seem to be drinking in your pain, your pleasure... And enjoying every minute of it. You get the distinct feeling of jealousness, that Claire wishes she were the one squirming under her mistress's touch.


"...He's telling the truth."


(Fortitude roll: 9)


Something snaps and you impact the ground soon after. Cynthia is on you in a moment, tying your arms behind you roughly while Claire presses against your front, invading your mouth with her hot tongue. Between the pain of your drop and Claire's... Distracting treatment, you don't have time to attempt an escape. You startle when you feel Cynthia's foot in the small of your back, pressing you to a kneeling position. At some wordless command, Claire drops to all fours and hikes up her skirt, exposing her dripping sex to you.


"Assuming you didn't just meet a madwoman in the forest and there is an enemy shared between us, we've got some planning to do... Coordination... Information sharing... And the little matter of who's in command of who... Tell you what, we'll start with the details of your operation. Keep giving me relevant information, and I'll let you bury this nasty toy of yours into my slutty maid's slit... You'd like that, wouldn't you Claire?"


"Yes Mistress..."


Cynthia's foot presses forward and your cock pushes against Claire's puffy cunt. The turgid rod slips and slips between the cleft of her tight buttocks... You're not getting any release without Cynthia's say so.


"Well, what will it be?"

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel moaned aloud, not even trying to hide how the pair's sweet torments effected him now. Cynthia's silken words caressed his nibbled-on ear and proved every bit as stimulating as even the most sensuous of the Lentani dominatrix's touches. Compliant...willing...yes, her praise, her apparent interest in this caused his rock-hard shaft to throb in her grip even before Cynthia's fingers tightened their hold around his almost painfully overstimulated rod.


It was almost enough to make him forget the circumstances behind this...introduction to bondage.


The ropes creaked again as the young man writhed in tortured ecstasy, yet he almost exhaled a sigh of relief when Cynthia proved willing to humor him. It was short lived, though. Claire and Cynthia were quickly establishing themselves as masters at keeping him on edge, both physically and mentally. There were a handful of memories Nathaniel was less inclined to freely share with the fair-featured maid, some of a sensitive nature, and others he was earnestly concerned might harm her to experience. The point was moot, however, as Claire and Cynthia's cunning ministrations made erecting any sort of psychic defense, much less one as specific as he would have preferred, nigh-impossible. The sensual rather than coldly clinical sensation of the maid's link with his mind made it completely so.


She was free to raid his mental treasure vault, and Claire seemed to be doing so with gusto. The sensual pain and agonizing pleasure seemed especially valued prizes for his tormentress to savor, but those emotions were swiftly intermingled with others from the more lucid yet distant corners of Nathaniel's mind still clinging to rationality. Her jealousy was met with feelings of surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even...concern.


*SNAP*


"Mmmph..." The pain of Nathaniel's landing and the sensation of his arms being roughly seize and rebound behind him faded almost instantly as Claire's lips locked against his. The young Brightland's eyes widened in shock and then apprehension. It wasn't long before those feelings were once again buried beneath a crushing wave of lust as the maid's tongue laid claim to his with sensual efficiency while Cynthia drew his new bindings tight and forced him into a proper kneel.


His chestnut eyes were drawn to Clare's moist snatch as if hypnotized. The reddened, throbbing head of his cock was capped off with a single glistening drop of pre-cum as Cynthia guided it over the soft flesh of her servant and co-interrogator.


"Primarily a scouting and surveying force. The fort was meant to help safeguard future farms once some exotic crops were discovered in our expeditions through the forest. Two groups of natives so far. Forest Folk are humanoid squirrels, extremely adept at moving and fighting undetected through the forest. Negotiated a trade agreement with them: metal tools for their exquisite silks. The Gifted assassin made a show of killing their leader. Their warchief wants to see us all confined to the coast and their council is in a deadlock over whether to honor our agreement,"


Nathaniel had to pause to suck in more air. His words were rapid and breathless as one would expect from a young man being teased to his physical and mental limits. Yet he was actually pressing back against Cynthia's foot, trying to keep his manhood away from Claire's inviting cunt. A glance at his face or a brush against his mind would have explained why in an instant. Apprehension and concern were holding their own in a battle with the lust the pair so masterfully wielded to cloud his mind. Claire craved the touch of her mistress? At best, Nathaniel himself seemed to be a way for her to vicariously satisfy her urges? The gentleman in him was fighting tooth and nail to stop him from violating a semi-unwilling partner, even one who had been eagerly violating him mere seconds ago at her mistress's command. Perhaps some would have considered it laughable to think there was anything gentlemanly about being stripped, bound, and teased until every lean muscle seemed to quiver with desperate desire, but what was the point of such ideals if they were discarded the moment things, certain body parts included, grew hard?


Nathaniel's body was vulnerable to such sensual assaults, perhaps exceptionally so given his relative inexperience and newly discovered taste for erotic domination, but his will was strong enough to contest with it. At least Cynthia could be reasonably certain the young Brightland was taking this potential alliance and the sharing of information seriously rather than "merely" caving to her interrogation?


"The other group are the Hillfolk. Also humanoids with animalistic features. Very strong, very durable. Ones we met live in a cave system and are on better terms with us. Leaders are another gifted individual, renegade of the Syndicate and the assassin's target before I killed her, who helped me stabilize my power before it destroyed me, and a warchief who is wary of us but hopeful. Sophisticated stoneworkers and possibly similarly talented blacksmiths. Didn't get a chance to see more than one workshop. Complications: deep distrust between Hill Folk and Forest Folk. The assassin wanted to start a race war between them to weaken both for future conquest. Don't know the origins, but there may be more savage off-shoots of the Hillfolk somewhere on this continent."

 

[Xatarias]

Cynthia's foot slowly reduces its pressure until you find yourself, more or less, under little to no pressure. The Lentani kneels beside you, trailing a hand from your lean buttocks up to your shoulder. Those red lips contrast enticingly with your fair skin as they travel up your chest, along your collarbone... Your jaw.


"Such a good pet, doing everything asked of you." She whispers against your lips. "I can certainly see how a mutual partnership would benefit us both. This is fun, isn't it?... Oh don't make that face, Nathanial. You can't tell me that you haven't craved for an intellect to match your own. The challenge... The strain..."


You feel her hand encircle your length again, expertly stoking the fire of your perverse hunger. A single strand of clear pre drops unto Claire's perfect, exposed rear.


"Why don't you accept the gift I've presented you?" Cynthia taunts, no doubt sensing some hesitation in you. "There's no shame in accepting the graciousness of the victor. Who knows, you might even get the better of me next time."


She pauses for moment before addressing her demure companion.


"Claire, what do you want right now?"


"What you want, mistress."


The mistress tuts, stroking you nearly to the point of release. Edging you mercilessly.


"That's not what I asked, what do you want Claire. My desires are paramount of course, but what would you like most right now?"


Claire murmurs something into the ground.


"What was that?"


"...His... I want his cock inside me. All of it." The maid's voice picks up, almost pleading. "You haven't allowed me anything beyond my fingers in weeks, mistress. P-please? I've been goo-..."


Claire's voice hitches as Cynthia's free hand idly toys her glistening folds.


"Well, Nathanial? You heard her..."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel's body trembled as Cynthia's hand glided up his exposed flesh and her ruby lips planted a trail of kisses along his chest and jaw. Were it not for the faint creaking of the ropes holding him fast and the soft groan that carried through the air as soon as the Lentani woman thanked her "pet", it would have been nearly impossibly to distinguish between those indignant writhings and the quivering ecstasy she had so carefully built up in him.


His lips twitched as Cynthia's hovered scarcely an inch away from his, her mint-scented breath caressing his face once again. He'd almost kissed her, but caught himself at the last instant as much to deny her that tiny, tiny victory as much as out of apprehension over her response. This wasn't a game to him but...she...wasn't entirely wrong either.


His manhood throbbed under the Lentani's masterful manipulations yet again and yet another soft gasp was torn from Nathaniel's throat. All considerations about his wounded pride and whether they would have another chance to truly spar intellectually in the face of their mutual foes were swept away by the basest of emotions.


"Mmph...!" Nathaniel bit down on his lower lip while his hips reflexively thrust his tortured member towards the kneeling maid. Only a supreme effort of will was able to stop it from skewering her inviting, silken folds then and there. His reward for succeeding at such a Herculean challenge? Cynthia's fingers sliding back and forth over his throbbing, pulsing shaft. Nathaniel gasped, moaned, and mewled as his Lentani torturess kept him perfectly on edge. He shut his eyes to the dripping cunt offered to him and leaned again Cynthia's body as much for support as to plead with the dominatrix through his wordless yet pitiable noises.


One eye cracked open, almost in disbelief, as Claire spoke. On almost any other occasion, he would have considered her words with some care. Today? She consented and the desperate craving in her voices sounded quite sincere.


Nathaniel thrust forward in a blur despite being tightly bound. He gasped in ecstasy as his tormented length was finally sheathed within Claire's dripping sex and immediately began thrusting with all the speed and vigor the pair's sensual torments had been steadily instilling in him. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed slightly through the room. Each thrust began with little more than the crown of his manhood lingering inside Claire and ended in his cock being slammed to its very hilt, her perfectly sculpted rear lightly knocking into his hips and groin each time.


After everything the pair did, it would likely be a matter of seconds before he climaxed, though even that tremendous release wouldn't make Nathaniel stop on his own accord. The pair had teased him even worse than the siren had,once the lusty cloud began to fade from his mind...well, from the sound of things Claire might have wanted more than a few seconds of pleasure after weeks of nothing.

 

[Xatarias]

Claire practically mewls as you finally give her the release she so desperately craves. She reaches back, spreading her cheeks and allowing you unhindered access to her tight recesses. The lithe little maid leans back into your desperate thrusts. You feel Cynthia abandon her grip on you and you can feel her smoldering gaze surveying the utter carnal abandonment taking place in front of her. Rather than feeling liberated, it's almost as if the dominatrix's noose has tightened as you play your part in her perfectly orchestrated scenario.


"Ahhhh...." Claire cries as the tempo of your crude motions becomes feverish. "Yes!... Thank you, mistress... W-watch me!..."


And watch Cynthia does as you fall forward, your chest pressing against Claires back. Hilting yourself in the submissive woman, you feel the eruption of your climax upon you. Unwilling to be denied, Claire once again slips into your mind, drinking in the waves of your pleasure and setting off her own release.


The muscles of Claire's pussy flutter along your length and you can feel the all-consuming heat that washes through your psychic partner. The experience of your shared pleasure-numbed conscious nesses synergize and prolong the convulsions of your respective orgasms and by their end, leave you utterly spent. You lay splayed against Clair, the cold ground on your cheek, your seed trailing from her thoroughly rutted sex.


You look over at Cynthia and find for the first time, the woman off balance. She stands some distance away, flushed and biting her bottom lip. Although she is quick to mask her reaction, you know that she took great pleasure in observing your descent into animalistic instinct.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Some tiny part of Nathaniel was incensed at being reduced to an erotic marionette dancing to Cynthia's strings. It was only a very tiny part, however, and the orgiastic pleasure he and Claire shared with each other was quite the anodyne for a wounded pride...at least in the immediate term.


The release after being so cruelly and masterfully pent up for so long coupled with the sensation of his and Claire's silken forms rocking together while the ropes held him in bondage that only served to magnify all those sensations even further would have been a strong contender for the greatest climax he'd experienced to date, but the psychic connection between them clenched it. Nathaniel screamed in ecstasy, all thoughts of modesty or shame tossed aside, as their bodies writhed and their shared pleasure blurred together in an all-consuming haze.


Nathaniel fell atop the maid with a thoroughly expended gasp and simply laid there for a long moment, his chest rising and falling as he drank in the post-coital bliss. Finally, he shifted in time to catch Cynthia's response to it all.Again indignation flickered deep within him and again it was almost immediately buried by other emotions. It was hard to argue with the...results of the not entirely unwilling tryst he took part in, and there something comforting about the notion that Cynthia's refined mask could be cracked as well as his, that at least some of this had been as much about indulging her own carnal needs as simple, pragmatic interrogation.


Nathaniel rose awkwardly, his legs still shaking from the sheer intensity of the session. He glanced over his shoulder to Claire, his expression growing concerned yet again as he offered her one of his bound hands to help her to her feet. Then, assuming neither of the women stopped him, he would have sat on the edge of his desk- chin high, chest thrust out, and legs tastefully folded to conceal his moistened cock. Naked, quite possibly still bound, and yet doing a rather admirable job of projecting as much dignified authority as anyone could have possibly mustered under the circumstances, Nathaniel's current pose would have skirted the line between being a striking example of artistic nudity and an outright pornographic work if someone were to commission a portrait of the scene.


...Either way, it would have been a work that attracted many, many lingering gazes.


"I-I believe..." His voice cracked, belaying what the young man actually felt as he cleared his throat and began again. "I believe that makes roughly equal on the information front, unless there is anything you'd like to share that this...discussion and my visit to your fort didn't make abundantly clear? And before you mentioned determining who would be commanding who...this is a long shot on my part, but I suspect that you might just possibly have a preferred answer to that question..."

 

[Xatarias]

When you offer Claire your hand, she stares at it in incomprehension before hesitantly accepting your help and rising to her feet. The quiet servant girl readjusts her outfit and returns to stand behind her mistress. Her eyes, however, remain locked on you. An expression replaces her normally blank visage, although its emotional base escapes you.


Cynthia lets out a little laugh of disbelief as you scrape together your composure in a matter of moments.


"You don't have to be so serious, Master Brightland. Do I look like the micromanaging sort? So long as we have an understanding, I don't think we have need of flowery treaties or binding contracts. My proposal is this: Newport will remain a self-governing entity. There will be an election for Governor which, of course, I will win. You and your company will retain your fort and whatever farms you cultivate after you dig out all the cannon balls. Whatever deals you strike with the natives is none of my concern, but your exports with be subject to whatever fees the town government sets in place."


Her smile is positively wicked. "And don't start thinking about any cute work arounds with a certain red-headed corsair. I know how Milly operates, and any smuggling attempts will be put down... Harshly."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Nathaniel's gaze lingered on Claire for a moment before Cynthia commanded his complete attention. If it was even possible to guess at what the porcelain-faced woman was thinking and feeling, it was going to take more than a few seconds of observation even for him.


Cynthia's laugh made Nathaniel bristle faintly, but by the time Cynthia had finished dictating her terms the young man actually did relax somewhat.


Assuming this understanding of theirs was on the level and the Lentani didn't plan on excising him and his expedition from her territory at a later date, he could hardly have asked for a better agreement. He would have preferred Newport to remain self-governing even before learning the Syndicate might be wielding considerable influence in Avalon and its peers' governments. It was just better for business whether you were a Brightland or a Lentani to only have to worry about claiming or influencing the governorship rather than contending with national, sometimes even international, politics necessitating even more politics and sometimes bribes. Cynthia claiming the governorship for herself was a clear way of ensuring she would maintain the upper hand even after all this fighting and kidnapping was done, but then short of somehow blockading her out of Newport entirely Nathaniel wasn't sure he would have been able to win a political duel with her anyway. Newport was more of a shady trading post occupied by beer swilling sailors and would-be adventurers, just the sort of people Cynthia's talent and wares were perfectly positioned to influence and exploit.


Given time, his farms and any other productive and industrial enterprises would likely rival or perhaps even surpass anything the Lentani might accomplish with her services and dubiously legal goods, but unless she intended to wait months or even years to call for an election she would enjoy a considerable advantage. Fees on exports were a potential point of concern, but truthfully virtually any port not dominated by his family's interests was likely to cost him this way. Unless Cynthia decided to try and drive whatever business he'd established by then into the ground, the only thing making this arrangement different from paying taxes to any other independent settlement was the fact that the money would be going to a Lentani...but profit and old family rivalries were becoming increasingly irrelevant with the Patron looming above them all.


Nathaniel actually blinked in clear surprise at the mention of Milly. Not even because Cynthia had brought and implied a threat against the captain. He honestly hadn't quite thought of that. Perhaps it was an illustration of the difference between the Brightlands' teachings and their Lentani counterparts, or maybe his focus on the Syndicate had started to blind his thinking to such commercial details.


"I have no objections. The only potential qualms I might have will likely take years to manifest, and I'm not even sure if this settlement and our lives will still be intact by then if what that assassin and the leader of the Hillfolk have claimed to me is true, So, did you want to shake hands to seal this understand of ours, or is that too formal for your tastes?" There was the barest hint of a grin at the edges of Nathaniel's lips as he awkwardly twisted and leaned to the side so his bound hands were just barely visible. One of them was waving.


"...In all seriousness, I suppose that just leaves our mutual enemy to worry about. While I was occupied with my exploration, did either of you or your followers notice anything that might have been a covert message? The assassin who tried to kidnap me must have had some way to keep in relatively close contact with her organization. She made it clear they weren't pleased with my diplomatic efforts over the last week or so. I haven't tried connecting with minds all the way back in Avalon, but I assumed that our...abilities had limits in that regard..."