Author Topic: Jocelyn and Maloorie's Tales Begin  (Read 244 times)

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August 30, 2017, 11:21:56 AM

Offline SoftGameHunter

I started playing Dungeons and Dragons again, after a twenty-six year gap. So these things have been floating through my head.

WARNING!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non-consensual sex. This story is all fiction and no characters in it are meant to resemble any real person. That’s the legal part. Here’s the important part to me. This is fantasy, by the author, to be shared with readers who share in such fantasies. That is the story’s sole purpose for being here. In the real world, this sort of behavior is simply not acceptable, period, by any of the laws or morals of any humane people. That means you too. If you actually hurt someone without their informed consent, just stop. Take a deep breath and stop right now. That’s not your right. A surprising number of subs exist out there, so take the time to meet one and make your corner of the world a better place. Don’t trash two lives letting your frustrations get the better of you.


Jocelyn and Maloorie’s Tales

“What do we see here? A sylvan glen? Is there peace in this place? Love? Serenity? Or is it little but a cover for darkness? For mystery? What evil deeds lie psychically buried and infused in this land, to seep away slowly or never at all? Can you answer that? Can anyone? Do not fool yourself that I am the source of answers to these questions, for I have few, and these are outnumbered always by the questions, by the doubts, by the caveats, and by the errors.” The acolytes listened as the master spoke. To Jocelyn’s ears, the master was just being cryptic and humble, as usual. He always had been. Everyone knew he had the power to impose his will on nature and enemies, essentially at will and woe to those enemies.

“Master, are we alone here?” asked Fredero, a fairly new acolyte, younger than Jocelyn. He was just starting to grow his body and muscularity of his teen years.

“This is a very good question, Fredero. What does everyone think?”

“We should never assume we are alone,” said Rostiss, the kiss-up.

“Indeed. But does that mean we are indeed not?”

“The answer will come in its time. Until then we are neither alone nor in company,” said Marvik.

“Spoken like someone spending too much time in the library,” the master replied, to general laughter. “Tell us, Jocelyn, our lone female, what does your instinct to answer say to you?”

“I have no instinct, master,” she replied. “But I would take steps to find out if we are alone or not.”

“Ah, a very practical approach,” the master said. “We should seek the answer rather than speculate on it. What other is most likely to be nearby?”

“A druid!” Rostiss said.

“Good answer. How would we find a druid in hiding?”

“Set fire to the forest and see if he comes to stop us,” Marvik suggested.

“Useful in some circumstances, but we are not far from our home. Shall we burn our own back yard?” the master asked. “What else might be here?”

“True Seeing would tell us what’s here,” Fredero suggested.

“Does anyone have that skill?”

“You do, master,” Jocelyn said. “I’m sure of it.”

“As am I. Very well, gather round. We shall see together what there is to see in this enchanted glade.” Jocelyn stood close to the others as the master began to chant rhythmically. She saw her own view of the forests around her start to shimmer and waver. The light dimmed. The trees took on a more sinister visage. The colors faded.

“There, now we see this place closer to what it truly is,” the master said to them.

“Closer? Only closer? Not true?” asked Marvik.

“Truth is highly elusive, Marvik. But I think we have what we need. Tell me what you see?”

Jocelyn looked slowly in every direction, as did her boy colleagues. For a moment, she thought she saw someone. Or something. She thought a figure was lurking, otherwise well-concealed amongst the brush over a hundred yards out. She nearly called out her suspicion, but realized Rostiss was looking that same direction and said nothing. A moment later Fredero did the same. They were seeing nothing. There was probably nothing to see. Marvik’s gaze took his eyes along the same path, with no result.

“I think we’re alone,” Fredero said.

“Perhaps, and perhaps not. I see what you boys see, but I think our girl Jocelyn sees something different. Jocelyn?”

“I, maybe I saw nothing,” she said. She pointed to the deep brush. “But I swear I see a figure right over there, crouching down, leaning predominantly on their right foot, facing us.”

Suddenly the figure got up and ran. All the boys saw it at once. “We shall discuss the lesson shortly, lads. Now after her, all of you!”

Jocelyn joined them. Her? The master had used the word ‘her’. But yet, now seeing her in motion, clearly she was a she. And she was a druid, one of the tree priestesses. Certainly no friend of the guild. But perhaps powerful. Jocelyn felt a twinge of fear, chasing down a potentially formidable enemy. She was glad to see the master, not really so very old, running with them.

From ahead of them she heard the growl of an animal. She barely had time to register in her mind that a creature of the woods, a wolf from its brief appearance, had doubled back on the druid girl’s pursuers. But it fell almost as fast as it appeared, impaled deeply by a crossbow bolt, the master’s.

“I’ve almost got her!” Fredero shouted from up ahead. He was always the winner of the races. Now he would be the first to catch the nature freak. Before he reached her, though, the pale skinned girl was darting up a tree, a birch with no lower branches, but which she scurried up with ease.

“You! I’ll get you, girl!” Fredero yelled, trying to grab the tree trunk and duplicate her easy climb. But the forest girl turned quickly back, climbing face-down back down, where she quickly pulled a knife and sunk it hard into Fredero’s hand. The sharp metal impaled his hand, sticking it to the wood as the boy screamed in agony, foolishly trying to pull his hand away.

Jocelyn saw the white-skinned girl now grab for her longer blade. She was going to be the next one to reach them. Watching Fredero’s hand oozing blood made the anger in her grow. She had learned from the master to use her anger, to let it guide her in the attack. But the druid girl was also fast, and about to swing her curved blade, the scimitar, at her friend’s body, either his head or his arm, when she faltered. Her face took on a pained, fatigued look. Jocelyn muttered the arcane syllables she wasn’t supposed to know yet but knew anyway. And then she jumped. She jumped high, over Fredero’s head, and landed squarely on the body of the young druid girl. She couldn’t have been much older than Jocelyn herself. And the two of them fell from the tree.

At once they were surrounded, but it was the pale girl that was in real danger. Rostiss and Marvik tackled her and sat on her, holding her arms and legs in pained, strained positions. The master arrived and yanked the knife blade from the tree and from Fredero’s hand.

“That was a foolish move. You extended yourself too fast against an unknown enemy!” he yelled, berating the bleeding teen boy. Then he turned to the pale girl. “Well, druid, I certainly never expected your kind here.”

“City dwellers. I close my mouth and mind to you!” the girl hissed. Jocelyn found her accent most endearing, but didn’t forget what she’d done to her friend. Fredero was clutching a piece of his shirt over his hand. Hopefully it would heal and not derail his training.

“See how her defiance gives her the illusion of strength and power,” the master said. “How shall we take it from her?”

“Strip her naked!” Fredero yelled. Rostiss giggled, and Marvik grinned as well. But the master nodded.

“A good idea. Get right down to business with your enemy,” he said. “Strip her.” With whoops of joy and loss of scholarly attention to their lessons, the three boys grabbed at and tore the forest priestesses garments from her body. She wore odd clothes, Jocelyn noted. But very pretty. She was a pretty girl overall, despite her deathly pallor. It covered her entire body. When her clothes and protections were gone and she was completely nude, they could see that her paleness extended over her entire body.

“Your name, girl?” the master inquired.

“Maloorie,” the girl said. “Who are you?”

“We are your death, girl. Maloorie,” the master said. “You’ve interrupted a training session of the assassins’ guild. You’ve spied on us. We will take your life from you now.”

The girl’s confidence and courage evaporated. Beaten, stripped, and helpless, she now knew who had captured her. Even in the woods the assassins’ guild evoked terror. There could be no mercy, even for this curious little spy girl.

“Could we have some fun with her first?” Marvik asked. He evidently spoke aloud what the others were thinking. They grew silent, awaiting the master’s answer. Jocelyn, though, felt her stomach take a churn for the worse. What were they saying? Were they planning to rape her first? Was that part of the lesson too?

“So long as you don’t give her a chance to break free, yes. Have fun. Make her pay for Fredero’s hand.”

With whoops of joy and lust, they were on her. Jocelyn stood back in quick shock at their frenzied attentions. She saw the girl’s legs pulled wide apart. She saw her friends’ butts as they got ready to ravage the druid girl. She heard the now panicked and uncomprehending howls of misery and terror from the girl on the ground. She stared at Marvik’s ass, thrusting forward and back, forward and back. She knew that on the other side his cock was rampaging through the girl’s cunt. She instinctively closed her own legs a bit, imagining herself on the ground, under a pile of angry boys, being raped, being beaten for her sexuality. There was no honor in Maloorie’s impending death. She would be left broken, shamed, and with rape horror writ upon her face as her final expression to the world.

“Something troubles you, Jocelyn?” the master asked as Marvik continued raping the weeping girl on the leafy ground.

“Yes, master. This act. This sexual abuse. This is troubling, to me. I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to contradict your instructions. But I’m very much filled with anxiety seeing this from my friends.”

“You’re young, Jocelyn. Very young. And this,” he said, gesturing with his hands towards the screaming pile of flesh, “Is part of life and death. It is often not dignified, not for the killer or the killed. Results matter.”

“But the result will be her death if we just kill her.”

“Had someone paid for this, we would carry out extra instructions precisely. But this girl, she’s for us. For them, anyway. I have no rape in my heart today.”

“I fear I’m seeing my friends in a very bad light, master,” Jocelyn said with tears running down her cheeks. “That girl does not deserve this.”

“You need not join in, Jocelyn. But whether you someday become a purist of our profession or an eager contributor to the shame prolongings as we sometimes call this for our female targets, you will realize that the rape exists. The tortures exist. All of it is part of the sordid world, and we live in that world.”

By then, it was Rostiss that was savagely raping the girl. Marvik had finished, had dumped semen into the girl, and was strutting about with his pants still off. Jocelyn saw his dangling wiener and was filled with anger.

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, master,” she said, turning away. “I cannot accept what I’m seeing!”

“This saddens me, child,” he said. “But it will continue.”

Rostiss kept up his assault, driving his cock harder into the druid girl’s cunt. Jocelyn saw that Marvik had her virginal blood on his dick, and some was on Rostiss as well. How old was this girl? Not much older than Jocelyn herself. If that. And Rostiss was clutching at her small chest, fingernails digging into her young and tender flesh, defiling her on her own forest floor. Because surely the druids felt the forest sacred as the assassins felt the target’s home. Something special.

Rostiss finished with her, and now it was Fredero’s turn. He did have cause, Jocelyn recognized. He had his own spilled blood to repay her for. But the glee with which the first two had raped and shamed Maloorie still stung in Jocelyn’s heart. She watched Fredero rape and pummel the girl, but realized his rape was no different. He should have stabbed her hand, or both hands. Proper retribution. But he was just rutting on the poor girl. She was long defeated. She should have been dead. Maybe she deserved life after all.

Jocelyn nearly recoiled at the first thought of those words. But her revulsion soon faded. She didn’t want to see the girl raped. She didn’t want her to be raped. Maloorie needed to live. If all three were to rape her, then none of the three were allowed the fatal blow. And as Jocelyn herself was the only one of the four remaining, it would fall to her to strike or save the girl. And she resolved to save her.

Fredero was at her for over ten minutes, the pain in his hand forgotten even as he bled on the forest floor and on the pale girl’s naked body. During this time the master ventured away from them. Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief at that. His presence could have derailed her confidence. She almost preferred to die before letting him down. She could also confront her friends alone, without the master standing back to protect her. It would be meaningless otherwise.

Fredero gave a grunt and filled his spunk into the splayed-out girl. She lay there, legs parted, gasping for breath, beaten and defeated. Bruises were on her belly and face, and her pussy bled. Her small breasts were turned red and purple from rough handling.

“Alright, it’s up to me now,” she announced, stepping forward.

“Alright! Awesome!” Rostiss hooted. Jocelyn stared at him and nearly retched at his implication.

“That is revolting and shaming to you and me both, Rostiss Laporo!” she snapped. There was silence. The use of last names was almost taboo at their level of training. They were staring at her. “You’ve all used sex to violate this girl, and the sex was your claim on her being. You cannot now kill her. I’m last, and it falls to me to kill her. Or to spare her!”

The druid girl lifted her head slightly, seeing Jocelyn defending her life, at least with words.

“That’s not how it works, Jocelyn,” Marvik said, taking a step towards her. “She dies. And you can’t stop that.”

“Can’t I?” she asked putting her hand on her sword. They paused. They knew her skill. But she knew theirs, and all of them could count. Three against one. Jocelyn hesitated, but she did not back away. “This girl has suffered. You’ve raped her! You’ve attacked her in a way no boy can really recognize. Not unless it happened to you!”

“If you want to kill her, kill her, Jocelyn. Kill the druid bitch. Or step aside so I can do it!” Fredero snapped. He advanced closer.

“I won’t back down!”

“You’d use an assassin’s blade on your own brotherhood?” he asked.

“I don’t need a blade!” she hissed. Fredero came closer. His hand still bled. He couldn’t possibly win. Except he was vastly stronger than she was. But he bled hard. And then the fists flew all at the same time.

Jocelyn used every skill she had to fend him off. And it was working, even if only because his hand was nearly useless. But then the other two came at her, angered, lustful, frenzied. And soon she felt her own clothing torn from her own body. It was a horrible sensation, filling her with such dread and disgust and shame that she could hardly process it in words. But then the pale girl, Maloorie, was right there beside her, fighting for her, with her, scratching, clawing, kicking. It wasn’t enough. Jocelyn was naked, utterly and completely, and her recent friends seemed intent on using her body as they’d used Maloorie’s.

“Stop!” The voice thundered, possibly enhanced by sorcery. They turned to see the master standing there. The anger on his face was unlike any the boys had ever seen. He stepped slowly into the middle.

“We’ve broken no codes, master,” Fredero said. “Jocelyn tried to intervene. She tried to stop our killing. She openly challenged us on a rightful kill. She used sexual sympathy to cloud her thinking. She let the druid girl fight beside her, against us! This is the sworn truth, so say us all!”

“So say us,” Marvik and Rostiss added together, somewhat in unison. The master’s gaze moved to the two naked girls.

“Is this true, Jocelyn? Have you disappointed me so much?”

“I guess I have,” she said, shaking and trying not to cry. Had it been worth it, saving this strange girl from being both raped and killed? Was this her last day as a guild trainee?

“Then you’ve doomed yourself, girl. You’ve shame us all. You’ve shamed your mother and me as well.”

His words sank in to the boys’ minds. Their expressions changed, melting off their faces in shock.

“Then I take my leave, with her, and we go.”

“Not with her!” he said.

“With her, father!” she snapped. Maloorie stood there, unspeaking, terrified. The boys were in shock. “We go now.”

She turned and began walking. “Come with me, right now!” she hissed at the druid girl. Stopping to dress would be fatal. She had to trust that her father would not send the boys to kill her right away. There would be a gap. And it would be enough. The others, her former friends and family, were still standing rooted to the ground when they passed from sight. Jocelyn and Maloorie turned to each other at the exact same moment.

“Run!” each said in perfect unison. And they ran. Each ran swiftly and silently, drawing each upon their own skills in quiet running. When they finally heard pursuit, they were too far gone. Jocelyn finally ended up following Maloorie, deeper and deeper into the dark and unknown forest primeval. Her life as she knew it was gone forever. Her future, for now, would depend on the forgiving nature of this pale druid girl whose rape she’d watched to completion. She had nothing else to try. So they ran.

August 30, 2017, 01:32:54 PM
Reply #1

Offline SoftGameHunter

A Second Reckoning for Maloorie and Jocelyn

The girls ran. Both were fit, terrified, ashamed, and running hard just on fear. But in time they realized the chase was over, and they had survived. They had escaped. The new question was which would finish crying first. Jocelyn over her exile from family and profession, or Maloorie from her brutal gang rape.

“Your people are horrid, cruel, and unworthy of passage in our lands!” Maloorie finally cried to Jocelyn. Jocelyn had no reply. Cruelty was simply part of life.

“Nature is cruel,” she said, softly, without much conviction.

“You aren’t natural!” the pale girl hissed. “You’re just humans. Bad, harmful humans.”

“You’re human,” Jocelyn said. “I couldn’t let them do what they did.”

“But they did what they did. I’ve been, been raped! That’s a stain that doesn’t come off my soul easily! You should have let them kill me.”

“Maybe I should have. I wouldn’t be outcast now if I’d stayed quiet. I can’t go home now, you know. That’s it for me. No more guild membership for Jocelyn. No more planned life. No more assured income.”

Maloorie made a sound half like a spit and half like a gurgle. “Killer income.”

“Alright, then I take my leave. Try to avoid that part of the forest for a while. They won’t forget you easily.” Jocelyn started off.

“Wait,” Maloorie said. “Wait, please. Don’t go that way.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll encounter my people. And word will have reached them by now of my assault. They will not be kind to you.”

“How will word reach them? No one else was there?”

“The entire forest was there,” Maloorie said. She began walking that same direction. “But if I tell them the ending, you should gain passage through and out.”

“Okay then,” Jocelyn said. She walked alongside the tree priestess for a long time, struggling to move as quietly. She was distracted by a hundred thoughts, not least of which was the sensation of air and forest cover washing over her naked body with each step. She might well get out of druidic lands only to find her options for staying alive severely limited. She saw whoring herself out in her future. She saw it for a lot of her future. That and trying to remain hidden from sight.

“When will we reach your lands?” Jocelyn asked at last.

“It is all our lands?”

“Then your particular gathering point. Or whatever passes for towns or cities for you people.”

“We’ve been there for ten minutes now.”

“When will we see somebody!”

“You don’t?” Maloorie asked. “This surprises me. You saw me easily enough.”

“There was magic. The master’s magic.”

“That would be your father’s magic.”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

They continued walking, and soon Jocelyn could see that they were in an increasingly enchanted part of the forest. Everything took on an almost ethereal quality. And then they stepped out into a large, round meadow, surrounded by tall trees with a high forest canopy far overhead. As they strode into the center, Jocelyn saw men and women stepping out from hiding. Some stood on the ground, some were in the branches. She almost expected elves, but most were clearly human, and a handful indeterminate. She counted their numbers, their sizes, their sexes. She noted their adornments, ages. Anything that told her anything about them.

Maloorie had a sheen of red in her white face. She was the palest of people there. Most had regular complexions, or slightly pale, or painted pale. She was clearly humiliated.

“We expected no communal meeting at this time,” one elderly male began saying. “News of today’s altercation brings us forth. Maloorie, you require honored covering.”

A young druid, a child really, came out of nowhere and handed Maloorie a shimmering gown woven apparently of greenery and silks, which she put on over her head, covering her body down to her knees. Now Jocelyn was tenfold aware of her own nudity among these people.

“You, outsider, of what clan do you belong?”

“Clan?” Jocelyn asked. “We don’t really do that.”

“Assassins!” Maloorie whispered to her.

“But I am of the assassins’ guild. At least until today I was.”

“Are you saying that today’s events somehow led to your removal?”

“If I may, elder Bariarchinti,” Maloorie said, “I was attacked by five people when observing them south of the Alebarsk. Three of the young males gave me, they made indecent assault on my person. They were vicious as city-dwellers. Jocelyn, this girl, was among the group, but she prevented her companions from taking my life. She argued my behalf. For this I think she has lost her own place among them.”

“Argued? Our reports say she was silent until the indecency was over.”

“Yes. This is so,” Maloorie said. “But her ostracism still took place. She was damned by, I believe, her own father, the elder of that group, and I think a teacher among them.”

“Maloorie, you are old enough to know that assassins training and fighting in our woods is most distasteful. And not acceptable. This Jocelyn’s moral code seems slightly elevated, but not so far as you think.”

“I know where she stands.”

The druids began to walk out of the woods, coming closer. Surrounding them. As they approached, a hawk landed on the shoulder of the speaker. He nodded.

“I’ve received word that the outsiders were expelled a short time ago by our number and our allies.”

“You chased them out?” Jocelyn asked.

“We chased one out. Probably the one that is your father and teacher. The others are dead and they are already being digested by our brethren.” Jocelyn fought back the urge to gag, or to vomit. That wasn’t at all what she wanted. That wasn’t how the day was supposed to go. Her three friends, high strung as they were, were not supposed to be killed and eaten! She failed to stop the tears. “Now there is just you.”

“Me?”

“Your words,” he said, with disgust in his voice at the word ‘word’, “Are noted. But you did not seek to end the assault on our own daughter.”

“She’s your daughter?” Jocelyn asked.

“All druidic women are all of our daughters,” the man said. “Perhaps she will use words to defend you as well. After we have reciprocated on your body what was done to hers.”

“What? Wait! Hold on a moment! You’re going to punish rape with rape? I wasn’t a participant!”

“You were, in your way. And what your people did was vicious, morbid, grotesque. It was a low and tawdry abomination of carnal lusts. We will maintain a more exalted state of mind when we repeat it on you.”

Jocelyn screamed and tried to run. They caught her. Fast. She had gone no more than two steps when she was tackled and pushed to the forest floor, her legs nearly ripped apart, and the press of a hot cock to her tender gash. She winced, expecting the worst. Would it hurt so badly, being torn the first time? And how many of them would do it to her? Three? Or all?”

It did hurt. She was too tight and small for the heated, massive piece of man’s flesh that plowed into her, tearing through her maidenhead in a single thrust, parting her flesh that was too tight for easy parting. And she screamed at the pain. They were all on her, holding her down with a dozen hands, clutching and clawing and ripping at her breasts and belly and neck and face. Exalted? There was nothing exalted. They were just rapists, and Jocelyn soon felt her bleeding increase as they continued to hurt and injure her in the worst places. Pain, such pain, was everywhere. Not just hot male flesh, but sharp splinters and hard, sharp rock in her back and ass and feet.

One man raped her. She felt his hot fluids in her. Jizz. Cum. Spunk. She knew all about it. She talked with the other girls. Including the ones that used seduction for assassination. The ones that lived the life of sex and death. The ones that assured her the time to strike was after the sex was completed, not before. Such a specialty had held Jocelyn’s interest not at all. Now her attitude was not saving her. The next druidic man mounted her and fucked her. They turned her to her side. She felt cocks pressing at her ass. Soon she felt the blinding, splitting open pain of the cock in her ass.

They continued. She was not to suffer three rapes as Maloorie had. Apparently she was to suffer vastly more of them. All she saw around her were men, waiting, eagerly awaiting their shot at her body, a body probably not long for the world. As she suffered and bled, she pondered the approach of death. It happened to everyone. Even as a young trainee she had already had her share of ushering people into it. Now it was her turn. She cried. She’d really hoped to have a longer shot at plying her skills in the living world.

Man after man savaged her body. She counted. Information was power, and power was survival. Ten cocks in her pussy. Seven in her ass. None for her mouth, they weren’t that dumb. Her own screams for all of them. She didn’t bother to count her own screaming. She couldn’t count that high.

She heard screaming. Female screaming. Yelling, actually, and recognized Maloorie’s voice. “No justice!” the girl was yelling. “This is no balance! This is just lust! This is what they did to me!”

That was balance, Jocelyn thought. Now it was Maloorie’s turn to argue for her. Not to fight, but to argue. How fitting. And if she got Jocelyn out of there alive, she would consider it a fair trade.

“You forget yourself, Maloorie. These are not peaceful seekers of nature’s wisdom as we are. They are low, boorish, criminal thugs. Mercy and balance are wasted on such scum and villainy as them! Stand off and do not interfere!”

Jocelyn wailed and shrieked as more cocks plowed into her, and hard punches rained down on her belly and head. They were going to rape and beat her to death right there. Without mercy, which meant nothing to her anyway. And without restraint. There would be nothing quick. More cum flowed into her ass and cunt. More bruises. More blood. More teeth gone missing. She felt two gaps with her tongue.

There was a sudden deafening loud burst of thunder, louder than any Jocelyn had ever heard. Louder than any sound Jocelyn had ever heard. But it got their attention, with the men getting off her body. She stared up at the sky, seeing the swirling, twisting black clouds and rapid flashing of lightening.

“You wouldn’t!” the lead man, Bariarchinti, yelled. He’d already taken his turn with Jocelyn’s body. Now he stood among the other elders. “That would be suicidal!”

“It is not I,” Maloorie said, looking up. “This is vastly beyond me, to make that summons.”

“Go then!” he shouted. “Both of you leave this place, and stay left out. Maloorie, you are banished, just like your new friend, from your homeland. Never return!”

“But…” Maloorie started to beg, but stopped. She hung her head, and began to walk. Jocelyn struggled to stand and hurried after her, walking bowlegged and limping.

“What’s happening?” she yelled over the thunder.

“A summoning. A fatal summoning, if it continues, of a nature god. Or a nature demon. Someone didn’t like my people’s treatment of you any more than I did. Probably it was one of the elder matrons.”

“We should thank her. Accept her favor and offer to balance it.”

“We should leave, right this second. Continue walking. Do not look back, not even once.”

They walked, and the storm behind them faded. Maloorie showed no inclination to run. Jocelyn just followed her, still hurt and filthy. As they were moving along, Jocelyn happened to be looking right at Maloorie when it happened. The silk and branch dress she wore fell apart all at once, dropping into a pile of tiny sticks and fluff. She was completely naked once more.

“Really?” Jocelyn asked.

“We have left the inner realm. Forever. We are both banished.” She stopped and sat down on a fallen log. She shook her head. “How can fate turn so fast?”

“I know what you mean,” Jocelyn said.

“I guess you among all people can, and do. Now I have no future among my own people. At least not in this part of the world.”

“Then let’s leave it,” Jocelyn suggested.

“Leave it behind?”

“Go somewhere distant. Both of us. We have nothing here. Nothing at all! But you are still a druid, and you do that druid stuff you do. I have my skills. So let’s go elsewhere. Let’s cross the continent and pick a new home, where no one knows us.”

“Together?”

“Do you have another friend to travel with?”

“No.”

“Do you have another friend?”

“Not anymore.”

“Nor do I. So, that pretty much clinches it, doesn’t it?” Jocelyn said.

“I suppose so. Alright, Jocelyn. We’ve learned who we can count on. Let us go now, and seek out a new life and a new balance with the world.”

“And maybe learn how to talk normal,” Jocelyn said quietly.

“The normal of the streets and gutters?”

“Of humans. Not birds and squirrels.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Maloorie said. And the two naked girls walked off into a dangerous and uncertain future.

August 30, 2017, 07:14:42 PM
Reply #2

Offline gscmar64

i understand that you consider the story is fini but in my opinion it should be continued for at least one more part!

August 31, 2017, 10:44:23 AM
Reply #3

Offline SoftGameHunter

Right now I'm setting up characters and settings. I'll probably revisit Jocelyn and Maloorie again, maybe after they've had a few weeks or months to figure something out. But I guess an immediate sequel where they at least get out of the woods and out of danger cannot be ruled out as the next tale.

And speaking of setting up characters, I forgot to post my next two here on FFF. Excuse me a moment.