It's been a long time since I've done anything here on Fen's forums, the last time being before the site crashed and the folks in charge had to make a new place for us wonderful perverts and freaks of nature to hang out at, but I thought I'd put something together, dust off some old 'habits' as it were lol. This is your typical D&D story, I might do a more CoC thing later, but I'm bored and it's been a long time since I've written anything quite like this. Between loving the Forgotten Realms and being a HUGE Critical Role fan, (Campaign 2 hype!), D&D is practically my bread and butter so long as it's the R.A. Salvatore awesomeness I grew up with, so my opening story will naturally gravitate towards the Realms. It doesn't help I recently picked up Planescape Torment for my PC a couple days ago, (don't spoil it please, thank you), so the D&D bug is biting like crazy as you can imagine lol.
This was actually an RP I got involved with with some people on Elliquiy before our DM kinda disappeared, (although not before there was some group problems that popped up between us), so this is basically me dredging up what I can remember of that whole doomed affair and giving it a shot here. Beyond the vaguely similar story though, everything save my own character I had planned to use will be entirely different. So, let's get this show on the road!
Content Warnings: Cults, evil shenanigans, possible rape/non con, dubious consent, corruption of innocents, virgin 'sacrifices', demonic influences, body and gender transformations/swaps, slavery, orgies, light to medium BDSM, sensory play, blindfolds, spanking, paddles, whips, manacles/cuffs, torture (for information), death, gore, etc.
Expected Pairings: F/F M/F F/M/F, etc.
Not Expected: No vore, incest, scat, watersports, pony/pet play, or M/M (Only because I'm just not comfortable with M/M, either reading or writing it myself.
If that's your thing, that's your thing. )
Quick Sidenote: I'm not only interested in mere criticism. If anyone wants to throw interesting NPC or traveling companion ideas my way, I'm all ears. This story isn't set in any particular point in time or any one particular 'universe', only that the Spellplague's already happened and magic has since balanced itself for the most part. I KNOW much more of events and such before the Spellplague, but I know enough of what happened after to be comfortable with what I intend, not that it'll play a huge part regardless of where things go from here. Anyway, enough rambling from me, here we go!
The Forgotten Realms has seen countless wars, magical calamities, would be conquerors across the racial spectrum, tyrannical dictators, demonic invasions, and more besides in its entire, blood soaked history. But most of these events, many of which have become legends with the passage of time, have exceedingly humble beginnings. This is one such tale, which begins shortly before a seemingly ordinary woman's death, and a murder most foul.
Staring into the setting sun as she approached Neverwinter, Cassandra Blackbriar, formerly of the once powerful family of disgraced nobles from the city she was even then heading towards, let a heavy sigh escape her as she tightened her grip on the long ash staff she carried in her right hand. Slender as a willow wand, wave after wave of black, lustrous hair that seemed to catch the fading light, fell across her pale skinned shoulders. Piercing emerald eyes stare unerringly into the setting sun as it slowly disappeared beyond the horizon, which were set into a perfectly round, flawless porcelain face as she slowly turned and proceeded further upon the dirt road towards her destination. The so called nobles of Neverwinter had forbade any of her family from residing in the city, although why that was, she'd never been able to find out, and asking about it now was impossible since Cassandra had killed her parents, her three older sisters, and a chicken shit little brother that had done nothing to earn even a shred of love from her save for the small fact he hadn't taken great pleasure in making Cassandra's life miserable, unlike the rest of their former siblings.
The problem arose from the simple fact that, for the longest time, Cassandra hadn't been able to conjure so much as a paltry Prestidigitation cantrip, while the rest of her family, even the moronic Jessamine, the third youngest sister of the Blackbriar brood, had been powerful sorcerers, warlocks, and wizards all. An arranged marriage to a fat, pathetic piece of inbred 'noble' shit and an incredibly heated argument with the former Lady Blackbriar, (her father didn't count for much more than a wet blanket since her mother had always been the real authority in the household), and Cassandra had....exploded in a fit of magical fury.
As a result of so many years of emotional and psychological abuse, suppressed emotions, and more besides, the Blackbriar home had burned down, most of the village had been destroyed, and Cassandra had walked away without a scratch. When she eventually came back to her senses, she found herself safely tucked away in an unfamiliar bed, and found out that the survivors in the little hamlet thought demons had slaughtered her family, a 'story' she was happy to capitalize on in an effort to avoid the hangman's noose. It helped that when she'd been found among the ruins, she had apparently been covered in blood, ash, and had been half dead from smoke inhalation, adding credence to the idea she was an extremely lucky survivor.
Now, three months of recovery, some self taught lessons, travel, and several paltry monster and bandit encounters between her home town and Neverwinter later, found the young sorceress approaching the city that she hoped would lead to some long overdue answers. Approaching the large, impressive gates, heavily patrolled by the impressive city guard, Cassandra pulled her long, dull gray traveling cloak closer about herself as an unusually cold early spring breeze washed over her from the east, heading towards the distant crashing seas that churned and vented their fury along the Sword Coast. Nodding her head in greeting as she passed, a heavily laden caravan coming up the road some distance behind her, the guards naturally assumed she was a guard for the caravan and let her pass without question. It was only when she was sure she was out of earshot that she let a softly spoken, "idiots", escape her soft, small lips.
Despite having dressed for the long road ahead of her, Cass was glad to find a mostly respectable looking inn just within the Dock District called the Siren's Rest. There were other, more 'prominent' places, but she was hoping to keep a low profile, that and she had wanted to sleep around the same kind of so called 'filth' her mother had always 'warned' her about as a girl growing up. I.E., non humans, which Lady Blackbriar had hated with a passion. The reason why for that was just as simple and direct as the rest of her fear mongering, Lady Blackbriar had been obsessed with keeping their family line as magically rich as she could, or at least as politically affluent as she could manage despite the fact they were disgraced from Neverwinter's comforting embrace. Everything else, even her so called love for her own flesh and blood, had been manipulation and favoritism for those that embraced their magical gifts. Because her only brother hadn't wanted his magic he'd woken up to, Zachariah had suffered almost as much as Cassandra had, but he had done nothing except whine and cry and moan over the very thing Cassandra had wanted since she understood why she was so emotionally abused by everyone.
Whatever the case, Cassandra entered the Siren's Rest, found herself a table near the hearth, and wasted no time in putting her feet up on the table's ledge after removing her hood so it was draped across the back of her chair. A quick glance around revealed most of the other patrons were rough around the edges, some bearing garish scars, dressed in roughs spun leathers and frayed cloth shirts. The few barmaids that bustled about, carrying trays of drinks, food too and from the various tables were clad in low cut servants' outfits, their pleated skirts cut high to reveal long legs and shapely thighs. The Siren's Rest wasn't a brothel, but it wasn't exactly free of scum and villainy either apparently.
Either way, she gladly slipped out of her dull gray hood, revealing a low cut, black traveler's dress adorned her slender frame, and despite having moderately small breasts, the leather band she wore beneath ensured she looked better endowed than she actually was as she got comfortable. "Whiskey." She barked, hoping to pass herself off as more intimidating than she actually felt to the first barmaid that came by. It worked though as the pretty blonde, her ears more pointed than most of the others she could see, bustled away a little quicker than she'd approached, leaving Cassandra to rummage about her pack in peace.
She never saw the dagger, but she certainly felt it when it was jammed into her side, a hand clamping over her mouth in the same instant. "Cousin Cassandra." A voice hissed in her ear, the man's hatred almost as cloying as his beer soaked breath that wafted across her pale skin and up into her nose as pain consumed her senses, "of all the inns you could've chosen, you walked into this one?! Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
"Urgh!" She screamed weakly, the sound muffled thanks to the hand on her mouth as she tried to move, tried to break free of the iron strong grip, only to find her arms weighed and dulled. Paralyzed. The realization hit her like a battering ram, freezing her in place as surely as the blade in her side. The hand at her mouth moved to her slender throat, the threat there that if she tried to scream for help, he'd snap her neck out of hand. She was too angry though to give him the satisfaction anymore. "You'll have to be more specif- gwaah!" Cassandra groaned as the blade was moved in such a way that sent a fresh bolt of agony up her otherwise deadened spine.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you harlot!" Her cousin hissed in her ear again. "You killed them all!"
"Oh...right....Lady Blackbriar and her little clan of demonspawn." Cass wheezed, tasting blood in her mouth. He'd punctured something vital. She wasn't long for this world, but that was alright. She'd gotten her revenge for near two decades of her mother and siblings' tyrannical behavior and abuse. "To call her a human being....would be an insult!"
"Shut up! You had no right!"
"Are you really mad about them dying, or the fact you won't be seeing another copper from my mother?" She chuckled derisively, blinking back tears as he yanked the dagger out only to slam it back home, a little higher this time so that it pierced the bottom of her lung. Wheezing much more heavily now, Cass grinned maliciously as she turned her head to look over her shoulder, and to the man as best she could. He was a disheveled, gray, dull eyed mess, his skin the color of hard leather from hours out in the sun. The skin of his bare arms and open chested, simple dull gray cloth work shirt were covered in tattoos, souvenirs from his days on the open sea she'd wager. While the possibility was slim, Cassandra made it a point to remember as much as her failing vision would allow, on the off chance a priest or priestess came along and asked her spirit who had killed her. "See you in Hell, cousin." She spat out with the last of her breath, a thick globule of blood hitting him across the face.
"You first." He hissed, twisted the knife, and stomped off, letting her slump and eventually fall from the table.
End Notes: WELL, that happened lol. Waking up in Malcanthet's hall will be next chapter, but I hope this was a good opening for you guys and gals. See ya!
This was actually an RP I got involved with with some people on Elliquiy before our DM kinda disappeared, (although not before there was some group problems that popped up between us), so this is basically me dredging up what I can remember of that whole doomed affair and giving it a shot here. Beyond the vaguely similar story though, everything save my own character I had planned to use will be entirely different. So, let's get this show on the road!
Content Warnings: Cults, evil shenanigans, possible rape/non con, dubious consent, corruption of innocents, virgin 'sacrifices', demonic influences, body and gender transformations/swaps, slavery, orgies, light to medium BDSM, sensory play, blindfolds, spanking, paddles, whips, manacles/cuffs, torture (for information), death, gore, etc.
Expected Pairings: F/F M/F F/M/F, etc.
Not Expected: No vore, incest, scat, watersports, pony/pet play, or M/M (Only because I'm just not comfortable with M/M, either reading or writing it myself.
If that's your thing, that's your thing. )Quick Sidenote: I'm not only interested in mere criticism. If anyone wants to throw interesting NPC or traveling companion ideas my way, I'm all ears. This story isn't set in any particular point in time or any one particular 'universe', only that the Spellplague's already happened and magic has since balanced itself for the most part. I KNOW much more of events and such before the Spellplague, but I know enough of what happened after to be comfortable with what I intend, not that it'll play a huge part regardless of where things go from here. Anyway, enough rambling from me, here we go!
-------------------------------------------
The Forgotten Realms has seen countless wars, magical calamities, would be conquerors across the racial spectrum, tyrannical dictators, demonic invasions, and more besides in its entire, blood soaked history. But most of these events, many of which have become legends with the passage of time, have exceedingly humble beginnings. This is one such tale, which begins shortly before a seemingly ordinary woman's death, and a murder most foul.
Staring into the setting sun as she approached Neverwinter, Cassandra Blackbriar, formerly of the once powerful family of disgraced nobles from the city she was even then heading towards, let a heavy sigh escape her as she tightened her grip on the long ash staff she carried in her right hand. Slender as a willow wand, wave after wave of black, lustrous hair that seemed to catch the fading light, fell across her pale skinned shoulders. Piercing emerald eyes stare unerringly into the setting sun as it slowly disappeared beyond the horizon, which were set into a perfectly round, flawless porcelain face as she slowly turned and proceeded further upon the dirt road towards her destination. The so called nobles of Neverwinter had forbade any of her family from residing in the city, although why that was, she'd never been able to find out, and asking about it now was impossible since Cassandra had killed her parents, her three older sisters, and a chicken shit little brother that had done nothing to earn even a shred of love from her save for the small fact he hadn't taken great pleasure in making Cassandra's life miserable, unlike the rest of their former siblings.
The problem arose from the simple fact that, for the longest time, Cassandra hadn't been able to conjure so much as a paltry Prestidigitation cantrip, while the rest of her family, even the moronic Jessamine, the third youngest sister of the Blackbriar brood, had been powerful sorcerers, warlocks, and wizards all. An arranged marriage to a fat, pathetic piece of inbred 'noble' shit and an incredibly heated argument with the former Lady Blackbriar, (her father didn't count for much more than a wet blanket since her mother had always been the real authority in the household), and Cassandra had....exploded in a fit of magical fury.
As a result of so many years of emotional and psychological abuse, suppressed emotions, and more besides, the Blackbriar home had burned down, most of the village had been destroyed, and Cassandra had walked away without a scratch. When she eventually came back to her senses, she found herself safely tucked away in an unfamiliar bed, and found out that the survivors in the little hamlet thought demons had slaughtered her family, a 'story' she was happy to capitalize on in an effort to avoid the hangman's noose. It helped that when she'd been found among the ruins, she had apparently been covered in blood, ash, and had been half dead from smoke inhalation, adding credence to the idea she was an extremely lucky survivor.
Now, three months of recovery, some self taught lessons, travel, and several paltry monster and bandit encounters between her home town and Neverwinter later, found the young sorceress approaching the city that she hoped would lead to some long overdue answers. Approaching the large, impressive gates, heavily patrolled by the impressive city guard, Cassandra pulled her long, dull gray traveling cloak closer about herself as an unusually cold early spring breeze washed over her from the east, heading towards the distant crashing seas that churned and vented their fury along the Sword Coast. Nodding her head in greeting as she passed, a heavily laden caravan coming up the road some distance behind her, the guards naturally assumed she was a guard for the caravan and let her pass without question. It was only when she was sure she was out of earshot that she let a softly spoken, "idiots", escape her soft, small lips.
Despite having dressed for the long road ahead of her, Cass was glad to find a mostly respectable looking inn just within the Dock District called the Siren's Rest. There were other, more 'prominent' places, but she was hoping to keep a low profile, that and she had wanted to sleep around the same kind of so called 'filth' her mother had always 'warned' her about as a girl growing up. I.E., non humans, which Lady Blackbriar had hated with a passion. The reason why for that was just as simple and direct as the rest of her fear mongering, Lady Blackbriar had been obsessed with keeping their family line as magically rich as she could, or at least as politically affluent as she could manage despite the fact they were disgraced from Neverwinter's comforting embrace. Everything else, even her so called love for her own flesh and blood, had been manipulation and favoritism for those that embraced their magical gifts. Because her only brother hadn't wanted his magic he'd woken up to, Zachariah had suffered almost as much as Cassandra had, but he had done nothing except whine and cry and moan over the very thing Cassandra had wanted since she understood why she was so emotionally abused by everyone.
Whatever the case, Cassandra entered the Siren's Rest, found herself a table near the hearth, and wasted no time in putting her feet up on the table's ledge after removing her hood so it was draped across the back of her chair. A quick glance around revealed most of the other patrons were rough around the edges, some bearing garish scars, dressed in roughs spun leathers and frayed cloth shirts. The few barmaids that bustled about, carrying trays of drinks, food too and from the various tables were clad in low cut servants' outfits, their pleated skirts cut high to reveal long legs and shapely thighs. The Siren's Rest wasn't a brothel, but it wasn't exactly free of scum and villainy either apparently.
Either way, she gladly slipped out of her dull gray hood, revealing a low cut, black traveler's dress adorned her slender frame, and despite having moderately small breasts, the leather band she wore beneath ensured she looked better endowed than she actually was as she got comfortable. "Whiskey." She barked, hoping to pass herself off as more intimidating than she actually felt to the first barmaid that came by. It worked though as the pretty blonde, her ears more pointed than most of the others she could see, bustled away a little quicker than she'd approached, leaving Cassandra to rummage about her pack in peace.
She never saw the dagger, but she certainly felt it when it was jammed into her side, a hand clamping over her mouth in the same instant. "Cousin Cassandra." A voice hissed in her ear, the man's hatred almost as cloying as his beer soaked breath that wafted across her pale skin and up into her nose as pain consumed her senses, "of all the inns you could've chosen, you walked into this one?! Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
"Urgh!" She screamed weakly, the sound muffled thanks to the hand on her mouth as she tried to move, tried to break free of the iron strong grip, only to find her arms weighed and dulled. Paralyzed. The realization hit her like a battering ram, freezing her in place as surely as the blade in her side. The hand at her mouth moved to her slender throat, the threat there that if she tried to scream for help, he'd snap her neck out of hand. She was too angry though to give him the satisfaction anymore. "You'll have to be more specif- gwaah!" Cassandra groaned as the blade was moved in such a way that sent a fresh bolt of agony up her otherwise deadened spine.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you harlot!" Her cousin hissed in her ear again. "You killed them all!"
"Oh...right....Lady Blackbriar and her little clan of demonspawn." Cass wheezed, tasting blood in her mouth. He'd punctured something vital. She wasn't long for this world, but that was alright. She'd gotten her revenge for near two decades of her mother and siblings' tyrannical behavior and abuse. "To call her a human being....would be an insult!"
"Shut up! You had no right!"
"Are you really mad about them dying, or the fact you won't be seeing another copper from my mother?" She chuckled derisively, blinking back tears as he yanked the dagger out only to slam it back home, a little higher this time so that it pierced the bottom of her lung. Wheezing much more heavily now, Cass grinned maliciously as she turned her head to look over her shoulder, and to the man as best she could. He was a disheveled, gray, dull eyed mess, his skin the color of hard leather from hours out in the sun. The skin of his bare arms and open chested, simple dull gray cloth work shirt were covered in tattoos, souvenirs from his days on the open sea she'd wager. While the possibility was slim, Cassandra made it a point to remember as much as her failing vision would allow, on the off chance a priest or priestess came along and asked her spirit who had killed her. "See you in Hell, cousin." She spat out with the last of her breath, a thick globule of blood hitting him across the face.
"You first." He hissed, twisted the knife, and stomped off, letting her slump and eventually fall from the table.
----------------------------
End Notes: WELL, that happened lol. Waking up in Malcanthet's hall will be next chapter, but I hope this was a good opening for you guys and gals. See ya!
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