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What was that old bird planning? Troukul paced back and forth in the inn's room and cast a frown towards the door. Martigan had been... well not like a father to him, more like that strange uncle that got you into trouble more often than not. At least that's what he imagined the kenku was like. In reality, neither of them had anyone else in the world they could depend on. Martigan was the only family Troukul had anymore.

The dragonborn stood and padded over to the inn's mirror, a piece of polished metal that had seen better days, and peered at his own reflection. Scales as black as obsidian shone in the lantern light, silvered markings, covered by careful application of makeup, spreading across his eyes like a morning frost. Who had given him these coloration? His mother? His father? He had only the vaguest memories of his mother and no recollection of his father. His mother had passed away when he was young enough that she was hardly more than a concept to him. The idea of love and caring wrapped in warmth and compassion. Who was she? Some great adventurer? A tavern wench? It didn't matter, not to him when he was a child nor to him now. It was those memories of warmth and love that he cherished most.

Neither he nor Martigan knew how old he was when the kenku found him, but as he'd grown he had talked with several other dragonborn and could guess that he'd barely been a year out of the egg when she went to the great beyond. That had been a good fourteen, fifteen winters ago. While they weren't sure exactly how long, Martigan wasn't good at keeping track of time but they did know it was winter when he'd found Troukul, freezing and alone. While they didn't celebrate his birthday, he tended to have a private celebration around the Winter Solstice. They were usually in some city around the time and he could join in their revelry. Was always something going on, and if he'd managed to swing enough money then he could get himself a little something.

Martigan would usually be taking advantage of the festival to stuff his craw with free food and drink. That was fine, Troukul made sure to get his share of the meals as well. Was nice not having to work for a meal or keep some identity straight in his head.

Which is what he was having to do right now. Looking at the mirror again, he looked over his body slowly. His usual clothing was gone, Martigan had talked him into the role of Valnys for this particular con. It had been a while since he'd gone as her. The usual frosty silver markings along his neck and face had been carefully colored over, making him look like the darkest midnight. His tunic and breeches had been stashed away for a gown that was cut a little lower than he'd like. Breasts, usually kept bound so they stayed out of the way, were pushed up with the tops on display through the top.

He... she breathed out a sigh and reached up to rub her muzzle. What was that kenku up to? He'd told her to stay in character, that he needed to go out and do something. Martigan kept dropping assurances that once they were done here that their whole lives would change. And then he was out the door. That had been a couple hours ago and still no word from him. Sure, she had to stay in character if the inn staff decided to come up to the room, but that could be done without the dress and makeup.

A knock on the door made her turn her head ever so slightly, "I ate before I returned, thank you." The staff was nice enough, which was expected considering that Martigan had rented out the nicest room in the place. Didn't matter that the inn itself, The Foal and Rose, was a little shaggy around the edges. The room was better than most ones the kenku sprang for. The stuffing was all in the mattress for one, and it wasn't straw either which was a plus in her book.

Whoever was at the door rapped on it firmly again. Eyes rolled with a frustrated sigh as she crossed the room and threw open the door, "I'm not interested in supper, thank you very much. Oh... hello, Narzire."

Narzire Firebrand Achoc, a dragonborn with deep coppery scales and several scars peeking out from under his armored form, flashed a smile down at her. "I had hoped to interest you in a bottle of wine and perhaps a little snack, Lady." He rolled his hand to hold up the bottle while the other edged in to show off a cheese board. His faintly glowing eyes looked over her, "May I come in?"

Had Martigan been expecting him? Narzire was the leader of a rather sizable mercenary group. She and Martigan were working on selling him some weapons they'd come across. Well, not so much come across as talked some adventurers out of. A little magic on her part and some fast talking paired with Martigan's infectious charm had convinced them that the items were rather common junk. Then a bit more of the same had convinced Narzire that they had some very good items, with more on the way. "OF course," she flashed a smile. "Pardon the room, I was not expecting visitors tonight." Crossing the room, she kept a watch on him out of the corner of her eye as she turned up the lantern. "Brander had stepped out about an hour ago if you're looking for him."

The male let out a deep, rumbling purr as he swept into the room and set his offerings on the table. A wave of her hand sent the door closing behind him, best not to let anyone hear or see what might be going on in here. Some cons needed witnesses, others needed to be far more discreet.

"Actually," he rumbled, "I was looking for you. Wine?"

Troukul... Valnys, she reminded herself, put on her best innocent look as she blinked up at him. Even at her age she was nearly full grown, as it was with a dragonborn, and stood head and shoulders above most other humanoids. She was tall, even for a dragonborn, but Narzire stood over even her, his head nearly scraping the rafters as he poured a goblet. "Please. I am not much of a drinker, but would be a shame to turn down an offer."

His chuckle shook her to the core with its deep rumble, "I had noticed that." Pouring a second goblet, he offered it to her even as he drew a scarred chair away from the table. Taking it, she smiled at him and slipped into the chair, tail curling around her leg delicately. That deep purr continued to shake through his chest as he sank into a chair. The poor furniture groaning under his considerable bulk. "I would ask if that's a magical thing, or if it's something to do with your partner." He took a slow draw off his wine before moving to slice the bread and cheese on the platter. "I apologize, it isn't the greatest of wines, but it pairs so well with this cheese." Narzire flashed a toothy grin as he popped a slice into his maw, "And this cheese is worth it."

Greatest of wines? She had tasted better vinegar, but nothing a little magic couldn't fix. Although he was right about the cheese, it was rich and creamy with just the right amount of bite to it. "So," she started as she nibbled on a piece of cheese, looking the coppery male over. "Why were you looking for me, Sire?"

He waved a slice of bread at her, "Please, I have mentioned it to you before, you may call me Narzire." Popping the bread into his maw, he rumbled as he chewed for a moment before answering her. "And I wish to bed you, Lady."

That threw her off guard. She could only blink at him for a moment as he continued to snack just as casually as he'd thrown out the comment. It wasn't a question, it was a statement pure and simple. It hadn't been the least bit difficult to know that he found her attractive, that was the reason why she was in the Valnys persona currently. They'd heard he had a weakness for women, so coming in as a female dragonborn magic -user with her kenku business partner was an easier choice than what type of underwear to wear in the morning.

Clean ones. Always pick the clean set of under garments. Even if you were in the guise of a beggar, clean under things were far better than filthy everything.

Valnys took a slow sip of her wine and set the goblet down with a decidedly firm click. "I beg your pardon, Sire?" She made sure to accent the Sire, let him know where they still stood on this matter. Troukul wasn't above getting cozy should things come down to it, but didn't mean Valnys would leap at it.

He chewed on a bite of fruit and pointed a finger towards her, "You," he tapped his chest, "and me," rough finger swept to point at the room's dominating feature, the bed, "in that bed." Narzire took a slow draw off the goblet before pouring himself a second round. "Or the table. Wall, I'm sure we'll get around to most of them before long." Elbow bumped into the table and frowned at how it rocked. "Perhaps not the table."

She began to stammer, finding herself at a loss for words. Troukul could have talked his way through it, dropped to his knees and got to work, something else. Not poor sheltered Valnys, educated by the finest tutors her merchant father could afford.

"Is there something wrong, Lady? I had discussed it with your partner and he assured me you were willing, if shy about it. While I doubt his claims of hearing you moan my name in your sleep, I do find myself hoping that it's true." The mercenary leader looked at her, his expression softening a little. "Would find it flattering, has been so long since someone has moaned my name without asking for payment afterwards. I had run into your partner downstairs, he invited me here this evening."

So that's his game! Oh she was going to pluck and roast that kenku when this was over. Didn't matter if he was the only family she had, how in the great fuck could he spring this on her without so much as mentioning it to her?

To secure the payday, that's how. It was a huge payday looming over them if they pulled this off, and if he thought that offering up Valnys' tail would secure it then he wouldn't hesitate. Narzire looked at her as he rolled his goblet slowly, "Is something the matter, Lady?" his purr took on a slightly deeper note, "Your friend had mentioned that you might want to play hard to get, but that you'd be willing regardless. Call me old fashioned, but I figured wine and a little treat might be more welcome than me throwing you across the bed and ruining that..." he licked his lips as his eyes darted down to look at her cleavage, "gorgeous gown of yours." Nostrils flared as he took in her scent.

Roast. Kenku.

Valnys snapped out a fan and hide her scowl behind it, "Pardon me, Sir... Narzire." Use his name, give him that little victory to start things out. "It's just that you are such a masculine, impressive male. I've never seen one such as you before, the suitors my father lined up for me were..." she fanned herself. Eyes darted over his body quickly. She'd examined him countless times before, sizing him up and figuring out just what made him tick. He was easily old enough to be her father, frame larger than she generally found attractive, but it wasn't the worst pairing she'd ever had.

"Foppish?" his chuckle shook the table as he hooked a foot around the leg of her chair, drawing her towards him. "Don't worry, Lady... Valnys," his voice dropped as he leaned in, "I can show you what it's like to be with a real man." When she was close enough, he grabbed her chair and drew her closer until his lips pressed to hers.

Valnys couldn't help but shiver as his purrs shook her to the core, making her very bones hum with it. Her lips parting to meet his in the kiss. The male's purr rose in a mild surprise as he leaned in, lips gliding over hers as his tongue invaded her mouth. Smoke, spice, wine, and cheese spread through her senses as her tongue rolled against his. He pressed deeper into the kiss, almost rocking her chair back as his tongue drove even deeper until it was probing at her throat. His rough hand roaming up across the front of her gown, scratching at her belly through the fabric before dropping to stroke her thigh.

She jumped at the hand on her thigh, cheeks flushing as the male broke the kiss with a chuckle. "Don't worry, my dear, just let me handle everything."

A soft huff came from her lips as he casually undid her sash, "I am no untested virgin." Hands shook as she reached to untie his belt.

"Aye, Darlin." he rumbled and leaned back, rolling her sash around his hand, "but I am no fop either." The large male stood up as she worked his belt off. Reaching down, he began to help her work the ties to his pants loose. They were already tenting with his growing arousal, warmth growing as his pants slipped down his powerful legs.

Valnys jerked as the cock sprang out, nearly striking her across the muzzle. Eyes widened with genuine surprise at the sheer magnitude of the member that was perched before her muzzle. "No sir, you are not a fop."

Narzire busied himself with undoing the ties on his tunic as he rumbled, "Why don't you give it a taste before you make any full judgments." He smirked at her and flexed his hips, hardening cock leaping towards her muzzle as she knelt there on the inn's floor before him. Valnys could only stare at it for a moment as the flesh continued to harden before her.

The smell of the male was almost overpowering. It was obvious that he'd gone through an effort to clean up, the scent of soaps and perfumes lingered on his body, but there was little that could be done considering his lifestyle. Wasn't at all difficult to imagine that he often went days or longer between baths. A quick trip to the bathhouse could only undo so much neglect. Which is exactly what magic was for. A quick little magic and his privates were probably cleaner than the had been in decades.

Delicate fingers curled around his flesh and stroked, feeling the warmth of his flesh blaze into her palm, "You are so large..." leaning in, she let her tongue flick over his pointed cock head. Narzire breathed out a groan as he shed his armor and tunic, dropping them carelessly to the floor. "And the flavor..." she wasn't exaggerating to flatter the male. He was by far the largest male she'd seen that wasn't a giant or sporting four legs rather than two. And now that he was clean, his meat was smoky and hot, precum making her lips and tongue tingle as it spread across her.

"You flatter me, dear." Naked now, he sank to the chair and leaned back, rough hand falling to stroke along her head. "Oh that feels good." Legs slid along either side of her as the dragonborn female slipped closer to the mercenary leader. Eyes rolling to look up at him as she ran her tongue back and forth along the ridges spanning the underside of his length.

And she paused midway up the spire, eyes widening at the naked male. Put someone in armor and they always looked larger, but he was perhaps one of the few that seemed larger without. His coppery hide sported more scars than she dared to count. Small lines from arrows, pockmarks from bolts, gashes from a blade, jagged chunks from a spell perhaps. All covering a body which, despite how large it was, didn't seem to bear a single ounce of fat on his bulk. Her gaze dropped as she nuzzled against his male slit, planting a little kiss there. Using her more sensitive lips it didn't take more than a second to find his internal testes.

There wasn't a small thing about the male.

He smiled down at her with a rumbling purr, "Like what you see, Pet?" She nodded slowly, and nuzzled his cock before sliding her muzzle over the very tip of it. "Oh," he groaned, "eager too." Unwinding her sash from around his hand, the male busied himself with fashioning a quick loop. She looked up at him curiously while starting to bob her head over his girth slowly. "As I mentioned, I ran into your partner at the bar downstairs." Narzire huffed and narrowed his eyes as her tongue flicked under his ridged crown and teased there. "While I doubt some of what he said, he seems over eager to sell me your treasures and was several drinks in by then, there were a few items that caught my attention."

Oh by the heavens, what had that overgrown pigeon told him. If it was something like she enjoyed anal fisting, she swore by all that she held dear, he'd be hanging by his feet in the town square come the morning bells.

Narzire slipped the sash around her neck, forming a quick loop with the little knot he'd been tying. "Not as fancy as I would like, but..." he angled his head and gave a test pull on it, drawing her even closer to him, "is it to your liking, Pet?" He casually held the crude lead and in his hand, not too tight at the moment, just enough that she could feel its presence.

Martigan was a dead man. She didn't care what the payday was like or what he was planning on buying her to make up for it. He was good as stuffed.

"Yes, Narzire. It feels good." A low moan rolled from her muzzle as she lay her head on his thigh, kissing the male's base. She kept her grip loose, fingers gliding up and down his spire as she nuzzled his base. "What do you wish of me?"

He let out a deep groan at the sight of her knelt before him, length twitching as her tongue wrapped around his base slowly. It was almost too tempting to just drive into her muzzle until he loosed a load right down her waiting gullet. In all honesty it had been months since he'd had anything other than his own hand. With her before him, he was only too aware of just how backed up he was.

Nostrils flared as the male leaned back, taking a deep whiff of the scents in the room. Tongue rolled over his muzzle slowly as his cock throbbed before her, a fat drop of precum rolling towards her. She arched her head to lick at it, shivering as the salty, spiced essence filled her maw. Valnys lifted her muzzle to plant a kiss on his tip before opening her muzzle to take him in. Cheeks caving ever so slightly as she suckled around his thickness.

A tug on the lead pulled her away before her muzzle even reached halfway down his spear. His words shook with his nearly unheard rumble, "As much as I'd love to fill your muzzle I want you to strip down for me, my lovely."

She felt a flutter race through her stomach as she stood, "As you wish." Valnys stood and started to pull on the ties that held her gown up. Narzire stood with her and helped her loose those ties. Rough hands sliding over her scales as he helped her out of her clothes. It had only just cleared her shoulders when he moved in, lips brushing over her bared scales with a hungry purr. Despite how she might have felt about the age difference or his appearance, there was no holding back the gasp as he embraced her so ravenously.

Cloth whispered along her body to pool at her feet, leaving the dragonborn as naked as her partner. Her body was sleeker than his. A rather... interesting lifestyle meaning she swung from sometimes wondering where the next meal came from while also having to flee some rather agile and dogged pursuers kept her form toned and lean.

Her voice rose in a purr to match his own as she rolled her head to the side. Teeth brushing ever so lightly over her shoulder as he moved closer, his body burning hot against hers. Feet shuffled to try and draw away from the warmth, but he followed her. The pair moving with the precision of dancers as they crossed the worn carpet that was sprawled between the table and bed. Hands swept over her back to her hips, rough palms scraping against her like callused sandpaper. Narzire stopped and pulled her up short, drawing away with a thrum.

By then they were both breathing heavier, bodies so close yet not fully touching just yet. Lips brushed hers as he spoke, "Bend over, my dear, I want to get a good taste of you before we begin."

Valnys found herself unable to resist leaning in and nuzzling his lips as she let out a breathless, "Okay," before doing exactly as he asked. What she'd told him was true. She'd had sex several times before, but a drunk tryst with Martigan was barely worth remembering. He couldn't come close to making her as lust-drunk as Narzire was managing with just a few touches and a couple purred commands. Troukul had been with more partners than Valnys had, but none could hold a candle to the copper male.

Turning, she nearly tripped over the bed when her knee cracked off the frame. Biting back a curse, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at him. His eyes were practically glowing in the lamplight as he looked at her the same way a starving man might a banquet. She couldn't help but shiver under his gaze. Leaning forward and bracing herself on the aged mattress before the larger mercenary.

He swept in behind her before she was even fully braced. Hands rubbing over her hips with a groaning thrum. Fingers brushed over the base of her tail, "I can't remember the last time I saw a dragonborn with a tail." Rough cheek brushed against her tail as he leaned in, "I have always longed to be with one of my own kind that has a tail." His growl literally shook through her body as lips brushed over her tail. "Tails have always been one those things I find undeniably attractive." Thumbs rubbed over her tail base before lifting it to expose her slit to him. Folds swollen with growing arousal, juices glistening on midnight black scales as she shivered before him. "What's this?"

A bolt of fear shot up her spine at his question. Unconsciously, she clenched her lower muscles, genital slit tightening against her own hidden length. Oh thank the heavens he hadn't spotted that. It had taken a while to train those muscles to try and keep one sex or the other hidden depending on what role was needed. She'd kept those muscles clenched to keep her cock in place ever since he'd had her kneeling and tending to his cock. But if it wasn't that then what was he questioning.

Narzire's rough fingers traced over her hips, curling around a thigh. He lifted her leg, burning breath puffing against her bared scales as he looked over her. "Huh, must say that is surprising." A low, rumbling purr of approval rolled over her thigh, "Never seen markings that trace around hips like that." Valnys would have relaxed if she could have. She'd all but forgotten about the silvered markings that spread along her hips and traced her vent. While she had covered up the markings on other parts of her body, she'd never anticipated that she'd be naked before the mercenary so she'd never colored the frost-like marks that her clothing hid. "I like them, they're cute." He planted a kiss on her hip before turning his attention back to her waiting slit.

Cheeks flushed as the male's breath puffed over her damp entrance. Taking in her scent with one of those chest-deep rumbles. He only allowed himself a second to savor her scent before sampling with his tongue. The slick muscle cracking off her scales like a fiery whip as he cleaned her folds. "Finer than any wine," he growled. Thumbs spreading obsidian lips to reveal bluish inner folds. The dragonborn mercenary let out a groan that bordered on a whimper as he pushed her tail higher, burying his muzzle in her pussy with a hungry snarl.

Valnys held on for dear life as his blazing tongue drove into her pussy. Muscle lashing her walls and working them apart, adding his own lubrication to the mix. Rough hands held her thighs tight, drawing her against his maw. Jaws parting wider as if he wished to engulf her backside. Lights flashed before her eyes as she tried to focus on breathing, but even that simple task was beyond her skills as the male ate her out. She could only hang on for the ride as her muscles fluttered around his invading tongue.

Narzire pulled back with a snarl and a smack of his lips, "Strangely cool," tongue swirled against her exposed flesh, thumbs probing a little deeper, "delicious tingle. Forgive me, I can't hold back!"

He lunged over her, barely pausing to make sure her tail was out of the way. Rough hands positioned her hips, gliding over her tail and drawing it against his hip as he leaned in. Blazing cock brushing against her backside as he pushed his bulk against her. Their eyes locked as she looked over her shoulder. Lips split into a wide grin, throat shaking with his rumble as he reached down to guide himself to her waiting entrance and sank into her.

Even with the pointed tip to ease the way she was stretched beyond believe within the first few inches. Fingers dug into a blanket that had seen better days as her hips were forcibly lifted. Jaws dropped and eyes lost focus as he drove himself into her without stopping, only the iron grip on her tail and hip kept her from pulling away. He was stretching her beyond her wildest imagination and he wasn't even halfway in yet!

"Oh that feels so..." he trailed off into a growl as he drew back. Ridges flaring on his underside and scraping along her tunnel. It raked a squeal from the dragonborn, her head dropping as hips leaped back towards him. He responded with a snarl, driving deeper into her before ripping out again. They repeated this song and dance several times until she felt him brush against something deep inside her tunnel, his cock reaching deeper than any of her previous partners.

She couldn't speak, couldn't think, as he began to thrust. Her body was on automatic, hips driving back as young lust overwhelmed everything else she was feeling. Burying even the pain from deep in her gut as his tip continued to batter against the gates to her temple.

The hand on her tail shifted, grabbing the sash-lead again and pulling it. Her gasp as cut short as he pulled her back, walls clenching against his member. Narzire snarled, "Jimosiig dask!" through clenched teeth, pace increasing. The sound of their tryst echoed off the walls, snarls and gasps competing with the crack of scaled hides and the wet sucking of her tunnel around his ridged member. He only slowed long enough to step apart his feet, clawed toes digging into the aged rug as he put his full bulk behind his next thrust.

If he hadn't had such a firm grip on her, she would have bolted away as he hammered every last inch of his girth into her depths. That raging tip plowed through her cervix with agony that finally cut through the pleasure. She screamed, body thrashing under his as he threw his bulk against her.

Narzire grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the bed as he practically lay atop her. Thrusts shortened until he was barely moving against her. Ridges popping right across her clit and making her hips rock towards him. His thrumming growls shook her to the core as the male's thrusts grew harder, more erratic. Eyes rolled back in her head as he pushed her through a climax, pleasure crashing against pain as he continued to ravage her abused body.

Blazing breath puffed against her neck, the male barely managing to hiss, "Wux re gethrisjir ekess guyya sia vrantvrakic," in gasping draconic. The mercenary managed to heave his way through a handful more thrusts before his teeth found her shoulder, clamping down just in time for his bellow to roll up his throat. Body hammering flush to hers as the male emptied months of pent up lusts into the place no other had reached before. Defiling her more sacred of places with his burning, thick cum. His grip and bulk keeping her pinned under him as he gave her every drop that he had to spare. Even as his climax tapered off, the male kept his body pressed tight to hers. Only drawing away as his member began to soften and slide within her aching walls.

A throaty groan came rolling up his throat as the male withdrew. Hand returning to her tail, lifting it so he could watch as he left her body. A pleased rumble sounding as he watched his pearly cum leak slowly from her freshly seeded body. "I hope I wasn't too rough. You were just so..." he growled, "irresistible."

"No, you were amazing;" she managed to gasp, holding still for him as her body shook from the experience. It took every ounce of control she had to not sob from the dull ache ringing from her gut. What had he done to her? She'd never hurt so badly, yet came so hard, in her life. What she wanted to do was to clean up then curl in a nice warm bath to soak out the pain. "It was just..." she huffed and started to move, but stopped when his hand tightened on her tail. "Overwhelming."

He breathed out an agreeable noise as he held her tail, eyes locked on the cum steadily dripping from obsidian lips. "Then you won't object to more." He watched for a moment longer before releasing her tail, "After a brief rest that is."

She covered her wince by moving higher onto the large bed, having to drag herself rather than crawl since her legs refused to cooperate, before rolling onto her side to face him. "Of course." Just one night, she told herself, a single night and then you won't have to see him again after that. You can handle a single night, can't you? A hand traced down her belly as she thought, fingers easing into her swollen folds to feel the mess he'd left behind.

Narzire rumbled at her and pulled the table closer before joining her on the bed. Offering her the wine goblet, which she gladly drank down. Hopefully the wine would help dull that deep pain radiating from her core. "So, what was that you said while we were..." she rolled the goblet slowly, "earlier. I couldn't exactly hear." Eyes followed the male as he lay on the bed beside her.

He waved a hand and filled her goblet again, "That? Oh nothing, just grumbling little things in Draconic. Broken phrases really." A pleased rumble rolling up his throat as he looked over her sprawled form. "Beautiful," came the purr as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her bared throat. He paused just before his lips touched her neck and took a deep whiff. "That smell," breath puffed against her neck as he sniffed. "Didn't notice it at first, but now..." The curious muzzle traveled along her neck before dipping to sniff at the bedding. "Where did you get this perfume?"

By this point in her life, it was a habit that whenever that were new sleeping arrangements involved, she took a brief moment to use her powers to clean the bedding. One too many incidents involving a close call with some questionable coverings meant that it was only the most minor of inconveniences. But then she'd take the time to do something else, use her natural born power to imbue the coverings with a scent.

"I, uh, " she started nervously, "I make sure that the covers are clean when I arrive at a new inn. Then I make the bed smell nicer." Valnys rolled her head so she could inhale the scent. Exotically floral, a little spiced, cirtusy. Her mother's scent. The strongest memory she had of her long-departed mother, and it had always meant comfort to her.

Pressed close together as they were, she felt his next purr as it started so deep in his chest and crawled its way up to pour across her. "I haven't smelled that in so long." Narzire lay on his side next to her, hand stroking over her exposed belly as he spoke. "It's a very particular perfume, very rare. As far as I know you can only get it one place. One particular clan makes it and they keep the secrets of its origin very closely guarded."

Excitement and shock surged through her. He knew where that scent came from? Everyone she'd ever asked had either no idea where it originated from, or refused to tell her.

He continued before she could ask about it, "Outsiders can buy it by the vial, but the price of it tends to vary." Rough fingers curled against her breast, brushing against a nipple before drawing a moan from her as he pinched. "Worked with this one guy, meanest son of a bitch I've ever met." His fingers continued to work her nipple. Pinching, rolling, bringing it to a firm peak before his muzzle swept down to plant a kiss on it. "He wasted three month's wages on a single vial to impress this girl." That hot tongue curled around her teat a second before he engulfed her entire breast with his maw.

Valnys gasped, arching off the bed as her hands fell to his large head. "Wh... What happened to them?"

Narzire played with her breast for a moment longer before pulling away, "Last I'd heard they found a cozy little cottage to settle down in." Attention shifted to her other breast, finding the teat already perked for him. His teeth found her nipple this time, biting down hard enough to make her hiss between clenched teeth. Narzire leaned up and back, looking over her body slowly as he let his thoughts rumble around his head. "It'll bit a moment or two more before I'm ready to continue," he flashed her a smile that showed a few too many of his remaining teeth, "Not as young as I used to be, and I do hate to leave a lady waiting. Perhaps I could," his words shook with that thunderous purr, "entertain you while I recover?"

Oh please, please, just let her recover. She needed it as much as he did, if not even more so. The mere thought of having that monstrous thing inside her so soon made her insides scream in protest. "I would be honored to sample your," tongue rolled over her lips as she let her hand trace his arm, "experience." Valnys was certain that there wasn't a thing he could do to her that she couldn't handle, nor did she want to risk offending him. If how he'd handled her had been how one treated a lover, then she was loathe anger him.

"Splendid!" Rolling over, he revealed a back crisscrossed with even more scars than his front. Valnys blanched slightly at the sight before her as he pulled his clothes over, grabbing a pouch from his belt. "This is something that I was introduced to by a shaman woman some time ago. We shared a very intense few weeks traveling together." He pulled several slender, brightly colored candles from the pouch and dropped them to the table. "Even after we've parted ways I found this to be intensely pleasurable." He offered one of the candles to her. Which she took it and looked over the waxy length. As she examined it, a rather strong scent wafted to assault her senses.

Valnys tried to avoid sneezing from the scent, "What is that scent?" she handed it back, wishing she could scrub her hand free of the scent.

Narzire took it and whiffed, "It smells like..." He trailed off and sniffed it again. "Waterdeep Pastries?" Broad shoulders rolled in an unknowing shrug. "I got these from a noble who hired us for a job, then thought he could change the price after the job was done. Used to burn them in his tent nightly." Opening the lantern's hood, he lit the candle off its flame. "Damned things altered so many bandits to our location." He let out an annoyed growl at the memory of some poor nobility. "The candles are worth enough to feed a family for a month at least. Made from refined fats, the scent, the dyes... Doesn't matter. He learned his lesson about altering his deals, and we divided up his fineries among ourselves." Firelight glinted off his eyes as he rolled to face her again. "You see, it's not the scent that made me keep these."

Holding the candle above her stomach, he rolled it around a little, letting the flame lick along the candle until a deep red dollop of wax began to form, "It's this." They both watched as it dripped onto her breast, a bright red blot against midnight scales.

Valnys jerked as it splashed her scales, only just biting back a scream as the fatty wax seared her even through her scales. Narzire let a purr thunder over her, "Feels good doesn't it?" he was grinning as he rolled the candle, letting another fat drop of wax start to gather. Threatening to fall on her at any instant and scald her again.

"Yesss," she hissed through clenched teeth. She could handle it, she kept chanting to herself. It was just one night and then Martigan would take her far away from her and she'd never have to degrade herself like this again.

Except she knew better.

The dollop fell before she could follow that train of thought any further. It landed right on the peak of her teat, laying claim to a sizable portion of her breast. She cried out again, grabbing at the bed sheets and writhing as the molten wax oozed across her mound. It burned her exposed nipple before running further across the tougher, supple scales of her breast.

Narzire' growl rolled over her, making her jaws snap shut out of instinct. "Getting a little loud there, Pet. Don't worry though." Gathering up the end of the improvised leash, he wound it around her muzzle and tied it off. "Just slap my arm three times if you want me to stop."

She had rolled her head to the side to hide those gathering tears, nodding and offering up a faked moan. Even without looking she could feel the male as he leaned in, breath cool against her aching flesh. She watched the candlelight dance over the wall as his tongue swept along her breast. Playing with the aching flesh before easing under the hardening wax. With surprisingly gentle licks and scrape of his teeth against her scaled breasts, he began to peel the wax off.

Valnys breathed out a quiet huff, cheeks coloring as she watched the male lean over her, keeping that candle dancing as he used his mouth to clean the first drop of wax off her.

Rolling it between his teeth, he spit it off to the side before letting the candle swoop in to drizzle more along her freshly cleaned breast. Her throat thrummed with the contained shout, arching off the bed to the point that he had to plant a hand on her stomach to keep her down. He breathed out a hungry growl as he changed his focus to her other breast. Tongue slithering along the breast and through her cleavage before spiraling up the other.

She could feel his breathing getting heavier as the male covered her with those purring growls and the burning wax. Each time she'd thrash or lift, his hand or body would be there to drive her back to the bedding. Pinning her with his bulk as low hisses began to whisper through his heavy breathing.

Every so often it would lash out, wax splashing further down her body, inching ever closer to her privates. Then the dance would begin again. Flame rolling over her as he let that wax began to build. Loving maw moving to tend to a cooling patch of wax, tongue and teeth pulling it away before soothing the throbbing scales. He'd spit away the spent wax then apply a fresh patch before moving to the next patch. Wax on, wax off. Each time drawing a muted squeal from her as she fought with herself. Grabbing the bedding to keep from slapping his shoulder. Fear bolting up and down her spine. Fear of making him stop and evoking his anger in some other way blended with fear that this wouldn't end.

The lantern was starting to gutter as his tongue brushed over her belly. Head rolling to look down between her legs. Narzire rumbled something under his breath as he brought the candle down. Carefully, oh so carefully, letting the wax drool onto her flesh. Taking his time to trace and weave some pattern around her frost-like markings. Inching closer and closer to her privates before finally rimming it with that wax.

She kicked without thinking, thigh slamming into the side of his head. While it wasn't nearly hard enough to hurt him, it did catch him off guard. Jerking, he snarled as the wax spilled across her belly and his face. Narzire reared with a snarl, "You Stupid!" his free hand was rearing back to strike her when he saw the look in her eye. As if reminded who he was dealing with now, the male let a breath hiss out between his teeth. Flames flickering somewhere behind his teeth as he tried to calm himself. "I apologize, you caught me by surprise." Rough, calloused fingers roamed over her aching flesh, rubbing the wax off as his growling purr returned. "Believe I have gotten enough rest." Her eyes darted to his lower body, locking on that raging erection that throbbed between his legs. He grinned at her before extinguishing the candle, throwing them fully into the dark.

A quiet whimper rolled up her throat as she felt the male moving, not entirely sure what he was doing but partially dreading what was about to happen. "I know, my sweet, I know." He grabbed her thigh and lifted it against his side as he moved in. "I know you're eager for me." Breath rolled against her cheek as he whispered, "I am every bit as eager for you." She jumped as his heavy cock slammed down on her privates, ridged flesh grinding over her seared and battered privates. "Feel that?" he rumbled at her, rubbing that length against her slowly. Ridges flaring to pop and scrape over her entrance. "I can't remember the last time I was this hard, my pet."

There was something about the way he said the word Pet that sent shivers racing through her body. Not the good type of shiver, more the type that one got when facing down a rabid dog.

His voice depend, "I feel you trembling with," lips brushed over her neck as he pressed his larger frame to hers, "anticipation." Straddling her tail, he planted hands on either side of her and rolled his frame to line that pointed tip with her entrance. Valnys squirmed on the bed as he held himself over her, poised to drive in. Her hands nervously shifted to grasp his arms as he loomed over her.

Only to scream into the bound muzzle as he hammered in. Narzire ploughing every single inch of his member into her with that first thrust. Hard body crashing against hers with a sharp crack of scales on scales. His tip slamming through her abused cervix, stretching it even further. Her thighs slammed against his sides as she thrashed under him, entire body rocking against the male as she tried to squirm away form that unrelenting pressure.

Breath puffed against her neck, "Yess," came the throaty hiss. "You like that don't you?" Throwing his weight against her, he kept her pinned to the bed. Hands falling to her thighs, lifting them higher until she could throw them around his waist. Legs shook as she tried to cope, grabbing hard to keep the male from pulling away.

He took that to mean that she wanted more. Claws scraped her hips before a hand came crashing down on her rear. The slap of his meaty hand cracking against her hip echoing through the room. Eyes rolled back as she jerked her stinging hips to try and get away. "Oh you really like that don't you?" No! No she didn't! She tried to shake her head, but it was useless in the darkness. Remembering what he said earlier, she slapped his arm and shoulder, body trembling under the male as a whimper slipped from her bound muzzle.

Narzire's hand came down on her rear at the same moment. "That's it, Pet! That's what I like!" Ripping his body back, he began to drive her into the bed, dropping his full bulk against her with each of the brutal thrusts.

Legs kicked, tail thrashed and hands slapped against his body. She couldn't think, could barely breathe as each thrust pounded the air from her lungs. Despite how she struggled and fought him, it only seemed to drive him on. Each time her hands struck his arms, his would respond with a slap to her backside. His body rolled against hers, pointed tip scraping against where his ridges had played. One particular thrust hit something inside her and made her entire body jerk. Hand lashing up to strike his cheek.

That made the mercenary pause. Just for an instant his pace faltered. She was able to take a single, shuddering breath before he retaliated.

Hands leapt from her hips to her wrists, forcing them to the bed over her head. He snarled over her like a beast. As brutal as his pace had been before, it didn't begin to compare to the bed-breaking force he began to fuck her with. Valnys could only hold on, staring up at the dark shape over her as he snarled and snapped heavy jaws near her face.

As his climax grew closer, the male's breathing grew heavier. Licks of flame starting to roll from his maw and illuminate the room in primal bursts. She could feel her insides start to tighten from the stimulation, hips lifting unbidden against his bulky frame. Her body was screaming at her as the male plundered her like he was some demonic thing.

Hands shifted over her, pinning both wrists under one massive hand. Now freed, his hand roamed down to close around her throat. Her head began to reel almost immediately as his hand squeezed at her delicate throat. The male snarled, burying his cock with each panted word, "Like it rough, whore? I'll show you..." his growl washed over her, "rough!"

Eyes rolled back in her head as her orgasm washed through her body, making her head feel even lighter. Valnys felt disconnected, strangely floaty, as she shook under the male. Iron hard fingers tightened dangerously around her throat as her climax set his in motion. Try as he might to keep going longer, give his lovely partner something she'd never forget, there was no denying the inevitability of his finish. Teeth gnashed as he tried to hold back, only lasting another half thrust.

"FUCK!" bellowed the male, throwing all his weight against the smaller dragonborn. Tip pounding through her battered and broken cervix to paint the walls of her deepest parts with his molten cream. He unloaded a truly surprising amount of seed into the female under him. Valnys' belly bulged ever so slightly under the sheer volume pumped into her. Tunnel trying its best to hold in the entire gift but even those muscles were beaten into submission. His cum already starting to leak out of her before his climax finished. Snarls died down slowly, the male beginning to feel the day and effort weighing down on him.

It was only as her walls began to slide around his softening cock that he remembered who he was with and what was happening. Narzire released his hold on her throat, "Hey." Nothing. He shook her shoulder, "Valnys." Nothing. Worry fluttered through his gut, "Not again..." leaning down, he rested his muzzle near her lips and held his breath.

A whisper against his lips. Her chest rose against his ever so slightly before dropping. Feeling over her throat, he felt her heart beating away and chuckled. "You'll get use to it," he rumbled at the unconscious dragonborn. Pulling away, he shifted to lay behind her. Leaving the sash where it was, wrapped around her muzzle and neck, as he pulled her into his broad chest. Curling against the female's back as he let out a wide yawn. "Or I'll break you in half. Will be fun either way."

---

There wasn't a word in any language he knew to describe how much Troukul hurt. He'd been beaten bloody and chased out of towns, gone hungry for weeks on end, been forced to sleep in quarters so small that cramped would have been an upgrade. Never before in his life had it hurt so much to breathe, much less just lay there. He didn't dare open his eyes yet. Didn't want to accept that he was actually awake and that he really did hurt this badly. No, he was convinced that it was better to pretend that he'd died at some point and was simply in one of the hells. Please, any god that was listening, free him of this torment and he'd give up scamming and live a pious life.

So he just lay there and took inventory. His gut had gone from screaming to a dull background ache. Ass hurting enough that he would have to be careful about how he sat down. Parts of his front throbbed with heat that radiated from where the wax had landed. His throat felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus. Every breath, every swallow, each beat of his heart drove needles into his abused neck. And to top it off? His hands were still stinging from where he'd tried to slap the brick wall that had been fucking him.

Speaking of which, he'd been woken up by a thunderous snort in his ear. Troukul lay as still as possible, feigning sleep just like Martigan had taught him. Thankfully the snort was just a bit of disturbed sleep. Narzire returning to the steady snores as he shifted closer to Troukul.

A shift which brought the male's morning wood to bear against his backside. He managed to suppress a wince and tried to think about how to get away from the brute before he woke.

It wasn't the first time he woke up either. He'd roused several times during the night. The first time was right as Narzire was settling in for the night, but he didn't want to risk a third round so quick on the heels of that last one. His situation growing up warranted sleeping light, and it was surprisingly hard to stay asleep with an angry bear tucked up against you. A bear which currently had a tree-trunk of an arm wrapped around his body.

First order of business was to get out from under that arm and at least get cleaned up. His inner thighs were feeling rather crusty and stuck together. A long soak in a hot tub at the bath house would be very welcome. He had the coin for a private room on him. Just have to slip out from under that arm and leave a sufficiently flirty note for Narzire to find. He shifted and was reminded of something. Real first order of business was sliding that sash off his muzzle and neck. Easy enough to do, even in the dull gray light seeping around the sturdy curtains.

Just as he started to and ease out from under the arm, it shifted and that snoring changed tone. It took on that familiar, deeper rumble of the male's purr. A sleepy nuzzle was planted onto his neck followed by a wash of wine and cheese scented morning breath. Troukul held as still as he could as the hand swept along his front. Nails and rough fingers scraping against his scaled hide steadily.

Who knew, maybe he'd get lucky and the male would roll away. Then he'd be able to just slip off and write up a quick note. If Narzire couldn't read, at least he could take it to someone that could.

And then the hand dipped lower, dragging across his belly and hip. Circling one of the lines that stilled ached from those accursed candles last night. Troukul's eyes widened as icy dread washed down his spine. Narzire wasn't the only one sporting a bit of morning wood. He was made aware of that as the hand pulled at his hip, squeezing it, and making his own length slide against his thigh.

Before he could even attempt to pray to whatever deity might be listening, that roaming hand swept between his legs. He couldn't help but hold his breath as the thumb brushed against his base as the hand moved to start playing with his pussy. For the briefest of moments, it almost felt like Narzire would ignore the cock, his hand moving to wedge itself between Troukul's thighs. Fingers just starting to spread the lips behind the base of his length.

Then it stopped.

Narzire's breath washed against Troukul's neck as his chest shook with that bone-deep rumble that shifted to a more curious noise. His hand reversed its tease and moved back up to touch the cock. Patting it against Troukul's lean belly a few times. Narzire moved his hips as if trying to figure out if the length belonged to him or not. Those rumbles took in a lower note as he curled his fingers around the length and squeezed.

"Valnys?" was the nearly snarled whisper. "What is this that I'm feeling?"

Narzire didn't even allow an instant to answer before he was in motion. Sitting up, the larger dragonborn heaved Troukul onto his back, not yet releasing the hold he had on that cock. He squinted against the bare light that leaked around the curtains, jaws rolling and teeth grinding as he strained to process what he only barely saw before him.

Fear froze Troukul, his usually quick wit reduced to simply looking anywhere but the larger male and mentally chanting the silent prayer of 'don't kill me' to himself on loop.

Narzire kept his eyes narrowed before leaning over slowly. His hand slammed into the table that was still immediately next to the bed. Troukul couldn't have moved, couldn't have talked, even if he wanted to. His entire body had seized up as memories of the night flashed through his mind. As far as he knew, Narzire had been passionate with him and if that was passionate he really didn't want to encounter the male if he was angered. As far as he knew, there were only three people in this world that knew about Troukul's little... oddness. His mother, Martigan, and himself. While his mother had passed on and wasn't likely to be telling anyone, Martigan had warned him about telling only people he trusted. Warning that some might see it as unnatural at best, and at the worst something that needed to be removed from this world.

So one would understand his terror as the mercenary grabbed a candle and blew a breath of flame across the wick so he might examine the darker dragonborn more closely.

"Well, what do we have here?" Narzire's head angled as he leaned in, Troukul torn between looking away and needing to watch as the male leaned in, holding that candle dangerously close to his privates. Light dancing across his icy bluish-silver length. It was only the firm grip around the base that was keeping Troukul erect at that point. By all rights, it should have retreated firmly within his slit where it would be safe.

A shudder raced through Troukul's form, the physical tremor shaking him loose from the shackles of fright. "Oh please, don't..."

"Shush." That single word and a hard look from the mercenary made his jaws snap shut. Narzire shifted on the bed and brought his head down closer to Troukul's on lower parts. Teeth dug into his lower lip worriedly as the male's hot breath puffed against his cock before traveling further down. Narzire kept his hand tight around the base of Troukul's length before letting his fingers trace deeper. Angling his head, he examined the dragonborn's slit, spreading the folds apart with the base of the candle to see the bluish inner walls that still bore his mark.

Troukul knew exactly what it looked like, he'd examined himself many times in polished bits of metal. Pucker tucked against the base of his tail, so close to his slit that it was almost part of it. Abused tunnel tucked into those dark lips with their silky smooth scales. His cock jutted up proudly from his lips, normally resting within a pocket within his vent. Tucked out of view as it was with other male dragonborn, just... well with the extra bits that they lacked.

Narzire's burning hot tongue lashed across his body. Swirling from the tip of his cock, down across his ridges. Trekking down to his aching pussy and diving in there to sample his depths. All before lashing around his pucker and away. He would have jerked in shock if he hadn't been so terrified.

The mercenary looked up at him with a slight smirk, "So this is why you're so shy, hmm?" His rough hand moved steadily over the cock as he leaned in to swirl his tongue across the tip, drawing surprised gasps from the sorcerer. "Kept away from other clan-kin, sheltered and taught by tutors, with only your fathers friends to talk with? Partnered up with that squawker friend of your fathers so he could keep an eye on you. All because they didn't understand."

It all clicked at once. Narzire was convinced that he... rather Valnys had been kept secluded away from other dragonborn because of how she was born, having both sets of sexes. A secret shame to her family.

He could work with that.

All it took was a slight shift in how he held his body and Troukul fell back into the role of Valnys. "Di-didn't understand what?" her voice shook ever so slightly with nerves and pleasure as his tongue continued to play with the cock. Coaxing precum to flow out across his fingers so he could slick up the length.

His purr shook the bed, frame possibly loosened from the night's actions, as Narzire lifted his head to grin at her, "Why, they didn't understand your beauty." The bed creaked as the male shifted, bringing his head down to wrap around Valnys' length. Muzzle shaking with those rumbles as his tongue curled around it as many times as it could. Massaging the length and making the black dragonborn gasp and grab at the bedding. Acting or no, she would have been gasping regardless as that tongue toyed with her in ways no one had before. Slithering along her shaft and down the base. Curling against it to flick across where her clit should have been if the length hadn't been there. Regardless it was making her gasp and shudder.

Narzire wasn't seeking to make her finish yet, he had other plans for his plaything. He drew back after slurping for a moment, tongue lashing over his lips. The coppery male lifted up, his own cock throbbing with excitement as he moved over the smaller dragonborn. Valnys' eyes widened in surprise as the mercenary straddled her hips, lifting the length straight upright. "You don't know how hard it is to find such a lovely partner, my pet." His hot cock brushed against hers as he moved. "Nor one so gifted." A laugh rolled up his throat, "Though... not as gifted as I." At this point, she was wondering if she were the more reasonably sized one or if he. If it was he, then she'd have to avoid any further trysts with other dragonborn.

"Regardless." Moving up, he lifted that cock straight upright, "It is surprisingly difficult to find one to enjoy certain acts with. For example." A roll of his hips brought the tip of her cock up his own genital slit and against his pucker. The male's throat shaking with his purr as he sat back steadily. Taking her cock into his waiting rear with a contented sigh.

He didn't stop until his hips were pressed flush to hers. Valnys' cock seated firmly within his clenching rump. Back arched proudly as he settled his body down on hers. Tongue rolled over his lips slowly as the male huffed, "Gets disappointing that so very few wish to take my rear."Lifting the candle, he began to roll his hips smoothly, staring at the flickering flame and gathering wax. "As much as I love stuffing a lovely hole, as you found out last night," he smirked and licked his lips slowly. Groaning as the wax dripped onto his chest. A low hiss came from the male as he began to ride harder, bed creaking and Valnys groaning as the larger male began to drop heavily against them. "There are times when I do feel the need to feel what it's like myself."

Flicking the candle, he gasped with a deeper rumble as the wax dripped further down his belly before splattering onto his cock. The length jumped as the wax began to coat it. Pre dripping onto Valnys' belly as he rapidly began to increase his pace. Huffing as his eyes narrowed with pleasure. "That's it," came the throaty groan. Narzire throwing his head back and gasping as the cock twitched within his rear and wax scalded his body. "Been so long," moaned the male.

Valnys' eyes rolled back in her head as the male rode her as roughly as... well he rode her. She might as well have been one of those exotic toys that she'd seen some vendors discreetly selling behind curtained off sections of their stores for all the care that he was showing her. But even as her hips began to act from the rough ride, she could feel her cock start to twitch and insides began to tighten.

A hiss sounded from the merchant's daughter as the rambunctious mercenary started to spill wax across her body, reminding of the night before. He either didn't care or didn't notice her discomfort as his pace only escalated. Body hammering against hers as that wax spilled onto his throbbing length. Ridges flaring as his excitement grew beyond what she'd experienced the night before. His jaws dropped open as he actually began to gasp and moan, uttering words under his breath.

She jerked under him, uttering a noise that her kenku companion loved to voice when he was feeling especially rude. Hands fell to his hips and tried to hold on to anything as she came. Cock leaping and painting the male's insides with her seed. Tail lashing against the bed with a sharp crack as a wavering hiss rolled up her throat.

Thankfully Narzire stopped as she came, paused halfway down her length. Valnys rolled her head with a huff as she rode out her climax. Attention gradually shifting to the male perched over her. He gazed down at her with a expression that seemed to be equal parts amusement and disappointment. "First time having someone play with that, Pet?" Her cheeks flushed, not that one could tell, as she nodded. Not entirely true, since there had been a few times with Martigan and the pair of them swapping who was in the role of the hen. "Not surprising given your history." He drew out the S's in the words, his cock throbbing as he ran his fingers along the length. Rolling the wax off his raging erection before lifting up with a groan.

Kneeling over her body, he huffed as her length slipped from his rear. "Forgivable, all considering." he winked and gave a toothy grin, "Of course you'll allow me to tend to this?" Valnys nodded, world still spinning from the climax she'd just shuddered through, her cock already starting to soften and retreat to its home. She had a feeling that she wouldn't have had a choice either way, saying yes would have been the easiest way to handle things. Blowing out the candle, he tossed it aside as he cleaned his length of the wax that lingered.

Narzire swept her legs up in a smooth motion, bracing them against his scarred chest. "Put this where it will do the most good." He hissed as he leaned forward, having to arch his body to line up his cock with her slick entrance. Walls were still shuddering with the aftershocks of her climax as the male just shoved back in.

She arched off the bed with a low call, jaws snapping shut as she remembered the binding from the night before. Grabbing her muzzle, she could only hold on as the male loomed over her. Body slamming against hers as his growl grew and washed over her. Hard. Fast. No signs of slowing even as the length surged and throbbed within her aching tunnel.

He threw himself forward, hands slamming onto the bed either side of her as he folded her nearly in half. Valnys' teeth ground as her knees were pressed to her shoulders. Narzire snorted over her like a beast as he slammed every last scrap of cock he could into her body. His rough hide crashing off her backside as the tip of his ram plowed though her broken cervix time and time again. Tongue rolled from his maw as he rutted her with the same care a wild animal would show.

Luck was with her though. It seemed that his ride earlier had gotten the male rather close to his end. He only managed a handful of grunting thrusts before pressing deep. Contorted as she was, Valnys swore that she could see that first shot of his seed as it thumped against the wall of her womb. He was literally drooling over her, saliva dripping onto her face as he gave her every drop that he had left over. Which considering how much he'd already spent in her was still a sizable amount. Her lower belly began to swell with the volume of it, making it look as if she'd eaten a sizable meal.

Drawing back, she shuddered as she felt his cock slip out of her depths, his cum starting to leak out before the male was even partially out of her. A deep chuckle shook over her, making her wonder what he had planned before he slammed in, firing another shot. Valnys' eyes crossed as the male delivered a dozen more of those thrusts, dropping his full weight against her each time, before pulling out finally.

He planted his hands on her calves, forcing her knees to her shoulder as he drew out fully. Both watching as his latest load drooled from her gaping slit. "Beautiful," he rumbled, "If only we had all day together." If they were going to be at this all day she would have had to make some excuse to slip away. He heaved a sigh before releasing her and dropping to the bed hard enough that he actually broke one of the ropes, making the mattress sag. Not that he noticed or cared. "But I think your squawker would begin to worry about your virtue should we tarry."

She resisted the urge to grind her teeth as she rolled onto her side and lay her head on his chest. Doing her best to seem as if she were the well-sated lover rather than the aching and abused mess that she was. "Mm, he would give me an earful if we are late for the meeting." Valnys tried to do a sensual stretch against him, wishing to brush her breasts against his side, but her body screamed agony at her. She bit back the pained groan, "I do wish to visit a bath house before then."

Narzire stretched and groaned, pressing his broad chest to her cheek. "Then perhaps we should leave before you tempt me into another, Vixen." Heaving upright, he practically threw her off him as he moved to retrieve his clothing from the day before. She shot a glare at the mercenary's back and made a gesture that would have left Martigan clucking at her with disapproval if he'd seen it.

Moving as carefully and slowly as an aged grandmother, Valnys slid from the bed and sought out her bag and the clothes therein. She was looking at the clothing, simple gowns suited for a merchant's daughter, and decided to clean up a little. The room had a basin and a rag that had seen better days, but the cool water soothed her. Eyes narrowed with a whispery hiss as she gently ran the rag over where the wax had scalded. She nearly forgot about the male as she cleaned and eased the aches. At least until one of his arms wrapped around her to grab her breast boldly.

"Going to tempt me, Pet." He rumbled a purr, but to her the sound only made her think of a savage predator stalking her.

She laughed it off instead and turned her head to give his chin a little kiss. "No such tempting meant." Valnys shifted against him, doing her best to draw on her undergarments without presenting herself or 'temping' him any further. Glancing back, she watched as he began to buckle his armor into place. "Shouldn't you... Oh I don't know how these things worked." Valnys retrieved the fan from the table to waft it at herself as if she were flustered. "Slip out early to preserve my image as a woman of virtue?" Leave, give me a moment to myself to recover, is what she wanted to scream at him. Only years of work and training let her keep up the mask of a pleased, but flustered, girl who had been sheltered.

He grumbled out a coughing laugh, "I know this place very well, Lady. Every man-at-arms with some coin has been here at one point or another. Every last one knows what happens within these walls stays here, and every last one knows the back way out." So that would explain the place. Good, but not too good. Clean, affordable, rough around the edges, and no one had dared knock on the door with the commotion happening last night. To be completely honest, she'd slept in dozens of similar inns before in her travels. She'd thought that it was simply because Martigan favored them, but now she knew why he'd left her here on her own. Plucked and turned slowly over a spit until he had thoroughly apologized.

By the time she had finished getting herself dressed and checked in the mirror, Narzire was finishing getting dressed himself, buckling a great sword into place on his back. He drew the great blade ever so slightly as he adjusted it. The blade crackling with energy that made her teeth ache. Looking away from it, she adjusted her own sash.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to freshen up more than the basin allows." She swept up her single bag and slung it onto her shoulder. If any asked where she, a lady of obvious well upbringing, kept the rest of her things, the excuse had always been that the rest was in chests and stored safely.

She'd barely made it a step before he brushed past her and opened the door, "Allow me to show you the way. I know of a nice bathing house nearby."

It seemed she wouldn't give him the slip so easily. She hid her disappointment behind a smile and uttered her own delicate purr, "Such a gentleman." It was a good thing that for her lies came as readily as breath. Even then this act was starting to wear on her. Too long and her facade would begin to crack. She'd barely made it out the door before he brushed past her again, nearly knocking her into the wall as he trundled past. Moving with a quick step that made the floorboards quake and shudder with each step.

As promised there was a way that lead into a covered alleyway. It was shared by several other businesses and people were slipping in and out and merging into the main streets. So the pair of them slipping out was not unusual it seemed.

The bathing house was a quick walk down the road and was just opening as they walked up. Valnys looked around at the few people gathered there. A wide range of people from all walks of life. While she looked around the rear, part of her mind listened to the chatter and filed away anything that could possibly be useful. Glancing at the pricing, it only took a moment for her to decide as they approached the clerk. Narzire paid his fee to use the male's side. She'd been here the day before and knew just how easy it was to slide from one side to the other. Had seen several couples do just that, enjoying the warm bathes with each other.

Narzire had started down the hall when she stepped forward, "A private room, please." It was expensive, far more than it should have been at a good five silver, she'd stayed in some very nice inn rooms for less. A moment to just breathe was all she wanted though. She kept her attention on the attendant as she paid and got the key for the room. Even without looking, she could feel Narzire's eyes on her, staring disapprovingly since he would be denied a chance to bathe with her.

Flashing a smile to the clerk, she turned and... he was gone. Only a lifetime spent playing roles to the hilt kept her legs from giving out on her. Tail flicked behind her slowly as she strode towards the private baths.

As much sheer willpower it took to keep her legs from going out, the effort to keep her from just running to the room and slamming the door behind her should have qualified her for sainthood in any religion. She kept her poise and dignity, back straight and each pace measured carefully as if she'd spent a lifetime being schooled in etiquette. The door unlocked easily enough and the sturdy door shut behind her.

The bolt slid home with a satisfying thud. Followed quickly by the thud of a dragonborn simply collapsing against the door and sliding to the ground. There was no heavy sobbing, no wailing to the heavens, no questions of why her. Just a quiet little ripple that shook along his shoulders as tears rolled down his cheeks. Everything that had been overwhelming him finally allowed to bubble up and out. Every inch of Troukul's body vibrating as all that tension was released.

And then it was better. Not better, but at the very least it was more manageable. He took a deep breath, wiped his cheeks, and looked around the room. It wasn't much larger than a small inn room. The main feature being the copper tub perched on the slatted floorboards. A battered vanity sat near the bath. Standing up, he dropped his bag there and stripped his clothing off. Hissing as he looked over his body in the mirror. If anyone else had looked at him, they'd have figured he'd be fine, but he knew where his body was hurting. Flesh swollen and aching where that wax had landed.

Reaching over, he pulled a cord and watched as water began to pour from a spout in the ceiling to fill the tub. Running his fingers through it, he smiled as the warm water began to fill the tub. Perching on the edge of the tub, he started to scoop up handfuls of water and rub them over himself.

With the sound of the water rushing into the tub, he didn't notice that someone was working the lock on his door open until the rush of cool air washed over him. He glanced over his shoulder and froze.

Narzire smirked at him, "Hello there, Pet. Should have known you'd want somewhere private." The larger male, dressed only in a towel, stepped into the room and locked it. "Especially after finding out your little secret this morning. Shall I join?"

Troukul wanted to swallow as nerves washed over him. Wanted to just break down in tears again, get some good ugly crying going. He wanted to tell the mercenary to fuck off.

"You figured me out, Sir." Valnys smiled and turned her head shyly. "I am not exactly a fan of public baths. Private rooms are one of my indulgences." She looked over her shoulder slyly, "A lady has to have her indulgences after all"

He let the towel drop and stepped right into the tub, sinking in as the water continued to rush around him. It was really only meant for one person, and hardly one his size. Narzire angled his head at her and purred, water dancing around his submerging chest. "As does a man, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Reaching out, he let his hand sweep over her waist, "Now come. Let us indulge each other."

---

Valnys had to keep her steps measured to keep from limping down the road. She nibbled over the edges of a pastry and shot a glance to the male who casually strode alongside her. He'd refused to leave her side yet, not even as she went to get food from a stall. Tea and sweetbread only did so much to rinse out the taste of the male's cum. She shivered slightly as a trickle of his seed leaked out of her. Not only had he made her ride him in the tub, but then he'd taken her again as they were drying off. He hadn't allowed her to clean up. Declaring that the thought of her walking through town dripping with his 'gift' to be 'most exciting.'

She on the other hand was certain that he was an absolute ass. If she never saw him again after this job was done it'd be far too soon. If he hadn't insisted on marching right next to her she'd have already bolted to the warehouse where Martigan, in his Brander guise, would be waiting on them. Teeth ground slowly as her tail flicked behind her with a whispered growl that was swallowed up by the noise of the morning street.

Just a little more. She'd only have to endure his presence a little longer and that'd be it. They were nearly up on the warehouse where the con had been set up. Near enough that they could hear shouting from inside the building.

One voice was once she knew too well, Brander was upset about something and so was someone else judging by the shouts that were being hurled back at the kenku. "Sounds like Krun," Narzire rumbled out. "Wonder what trouble he's starting up this early." Great chest heaved with a mighty sigh, "Should check to see what has him up in arms before things go too far." Yeah, she wasn't sure if the Brander guise would hold up if Martigan was attacked. Although might be a nice rumor if the feeble merchant Brander took down the right hand of the Firebrands.

While neither ran, they did step up their pace. The warehouse they'd picked to stage the con at wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't the worst either. It was one that was guarded, even if the guards weren't always the most attentive. Which is just what they wanted when pulling off something like this. Looking from the corner of an eye as they passed, she could see the tip of a scarred ear and a lowered head within the shack. Good, Reynard was on duty and if the schedule she'd spotted on an earlier trip was right then Horace would be on duty before long. He was the guard they wanted, but only after everything went down and they were on their way out.

Stretching her legs out, she heard Narzire match her pace as they strode into the warehouse. Inside they found a maze of crates and shelves with seemingly no pattern to them. She knew better though and readily wove her way through the stacks until she came across the shouting parties. None too soon since it seemed that they were about to come to blows.

Krun was a large guy with more teeth than brains, not that it mattered since he carried his armor and massive axe with ease. The axe was currently in his hand, green knuckles growing white as he tightened his grip and ground his teeth in frustration.

Brander stood opposite the large half-orc. The kenku dressed in a cream-colored outfit, wearing a hat that honestly seemed more like a ball than any useful type of clothing, the brightly colored feather plume sticking straight up from its front, fastened into a bit of jewelry that looked good but she knew was costume fakery. The short kenku was leaning heavily on a cane, which he would occasionally dislodge from the ground just long enough to shake at the half-orc and shout before slamming into the floorboards again as he threatened to topple forward.

Their shouting match paused at the sound of footsteps, Brander's eyes focusing past Krun and lighting on her. Dark eyes lighting up as he rolled a very rude sound into a pleased croak, "Valnys, my dear! And Good Sir Narzire, greetings! Hoho!" His voice was light and playful, each word sounding almost as if he were on the verge of bursting into joyous laughter. Martigan had based the Brander persona off a dwarf they knew, right down to the way he dressed. The dwarf in question had been some sort of toy merchant, always stacking his wares whenever he had a spare moment. Always laughing and giving 'samples' to poor, well-behaved, children who would stop and stare in awe.

Krun snorted, "Not falling for that trick, Squawker!" That axe came up into both hands now, muscles straining against the patched jerkin.

Valnys could feel Narzire's growl shake through her as he spoke, "Greetings, Brander, Krun. What seems to be the problem here." Never in her life had she ever seen a half-orc go from such a dusky green to ashen gray so fast. Krun spinning and nearly dropping his axe in his rush to put it away.

Before he could stammer out some excuse, Brander waddled up to peer around him, "Oh nothing, nothing at all. I was just coming down to check on the wares when I found your friend here already peeking in." Beak chattered with his laugh, "Can't blame him for being eager to get his hands on the goods. I know I couldn't help but sneak a few peeks here and there as we traveled." He planted both hands on his cane and leaped against it. "We were merely having a discussion about the virtues of patience."

The copper dragonborn strode forward and clapped a heavy hand on the half-orc's shoulder. "Ah yes. Patience." Valnys drifted around to stand near Brander, watching as the heavy muscles rippled under those scales. To his credit Krun only winced a little as the hand tightened on his shoulder. "It is a fine virtue to practice, is it not?"

Teeth ground slowly as the half-orc nodded, "Yessir, very good virtue." His knees wobbled as the hand came off. "I was just wanting to make sure that this squawker wasn't selling us any junk."

"After I personally inspected the crates?"

Valnys swore the room grew cold enough that she could see the Firebrand's breath as he shot nervous looks from his leader to the merchant pair. Eyes almost begging them to help, but he was met with only smiles. He stammered, started and stopped a dozen excuses. Each one cutting off as the dragonborn's growl shook them to their cores.

Not wanting to invite any undue trouble Valnys cleared her throat. "I'm certain that it's just a misunderstanding."

Taking his cue perfectly, Brander stepped in and waved a wing, "Yes yes, is all good. No harm done, hoho." Reaching into one of his voluminous sleeves he pulled out a stack of paper and held them up. "Bills for the crates, yes?"

Narzire shot his second in command a look and stepped away, collecting the bills and looking over them with a crucial eye. As always Valnys felt a little nervous shimmer through her gut but didn't let it show as he looked over the papers. They were official. Well, one was. The others were forgeries, her work. It had been very easy to get a good long look at the other paperwork in the foreman's office when they were paying to get their crate stored here. Had been shockingly easy to find several other crates loaded down with magical gear and, with a little work, the number of crates they had tripled. "Is Elgolor here yet?"

"Just got here." The tall, sleek elf almost seemed to glide into the warehouse, his robe just high enough off the ground to keep the hem clean while still giving him the illusion of floating. Narzire held the papers out without a word. Elf conjuring a light on the end of his staff with a few words a gesture before sweeping the papers up with his spidery fingers. He examined each page carefully, "I have been curious. Just where did you come across these items?"

Brander rocked on his feet, "Funded an expedition. Split the finds with he explorers." Not the least bit unusual of an arrangement. There were always countless bulletins in any given town with such jobs.

Overly styled brows arched ever so slightly, "Must have been quite the haul then." The wizard held the papers back out to Brander. "Although one would figure that you could get a better price if you sold them off piecemeal rather than all at once."

Beak clicked playfully, "Ho oh, it would be but you see I know little about sort things. Just came across a bit of information, one thing lead to another and..." he rapped one of the crates with a cane. "Could have let a dedicated magical goods merchant handle it, but after all their fees and commission. It's all about the," beak clicked as he uttered the sound of coins clinking off each other. He shook his head and breathed out a wistful sigh, "No, easier to handle this. Plus fine folk like you don't have to worry about markups, yes?"

If they hadn't been looking for it, they would have missed the elf's subtle glance and Narzire's even more subtle nod. "Of course, and we thank you for that." He reached into one of his sleeves and pulled out a rattling bag. "As agreed upon."

Valnys took the bag and cast a glance inside. It was hard not to drool over so much platinum and gold in one spot. Feeling over the coins she couldn't feel more than a trace residue of magic. Counting coins quickly was a skill she'd mastered at nearly the same time as simply counting. She smiled towards the Firebrands and nodded, "As agreed upon."

"Splendid!" Brander hopped over to the crate and whipped out a quill and ink. Quickly scrawling his name onto the pages. Narzire stepped in and signed his as well, officially purchasing their wares. "I would offer a bit of," he mimicked the sound of a drink sloshing in a mug, eyes darting over the others. Valnys held the bag of coin, middle finger wrapped loosely around the neck and littlest finger stretched across the bag, "But we need to be leaving." He leaned in, "Valnys' father would skin me alive if I kept his precious daughter out for more than a season."

"Father is always overprotective." She flashed a shy little smile towards Narzire, "Perhaps after he finds out that his daughter has a head for business he'll let me venture out more and for longer." She kept her tone a little wistful, as if she longed to have more than a single night.

It worked and the male perked up. "Ah yes, I can understand the worry for leaving such a treasure unguarded. Until we meet again." He swept in to kiss her offered hand. Valnys fluttering her eyes even as revolution churned through her gut. The coppery male gave her a none-too-subtle wink as he stood up and rounded on his men. "Right, let's get the wagons and cranes in place."

While they began to round up the warehouse's crew, which they would still be in the break room for their morning meal and thus delaying the loading process, Brander and Valnys strolled out into the streets. In her mind, she was already starting a timer. At least fifteen until the crew could be roused to get the cranes in place. Another half-hour to load the cart. By then Horace would be on shift and his keen eyes would spot the deliberate mistakes she'd put in the papers. He'd insist on double checking with the foreman. All told they had at least an hour before their ruse was uncovered. Hopefully more.

Troukul hissed under his breath once they were several streets away, "Never, ever do anything like that again."

Martigan rolled his head, "Why?" came the harsh croak, "Didn't enjoy your evening of," tongue flew as he mimicked both the sound of a bed creaking and moans, "with the big guy?" The stables they'd stored their cart at wasn't far from the docks and had a private little area for changing in and out of road gear. The pair of them slipped into the room and began to change out of their disguises, Martian's tall (for a kenku) lean form unfolding from his layers of cream cloth.

Troukul choked back a noise as he stripped off his gown, "I don't want to talk about it." Fishing a bit of polished metal from his bag, he stared to clean off the dye from his face, a frosty mask appearing around his eyes. "I just wan to get far away from here before anything goes south."

The kenku ruffled audibly, "Magpie, did he hurt you?" There was an unmistakable razor edge to his voice. Martigan stared at the dragonborn as he changed his clothes.

Head shook as Troukul wrapped his chest with practiced ease, carefully binding the still tender breasts. "I just..." he had to stop as a sob threatened to break free. Lowering his head, he saw the dried trail along his thigh. Snatching a communal cloth off a rack, he dipped it into a water barrel and furiously scrubbed at his scales. "I just want to go. Can we just go?"

Martigan was torn between wanting to find out what happened, wanting to flee, and the growing need to go back and punish the mercenary leader for whatever harm inflicted upon Troukul. He wrapped his layers of cloth over his feathered form again, "Okay." He rumbled the sound of wheels on pavement followed by the rapid beat of boots on the ground. Translation, he'd be getting their cart ready so they could get out as quickly as possible."

It took everything he had to not collapse in the room once he was alone. Troukul focusing on just getting his more ordinary clothes on before looking at the mirror. All it took was a whisper of magic, one of the most basic spells he knew how to shape, and his frosted black scales shifted to a deeper green. The color spreading across any exposed flesh. He'd keep his coloration like this until they were well away from down and then he could let it go and be himself again. If the Firebrands came looking for them, finding a kenku and dragonborn traveling together would be a little harder if they didn't exactly match the descriptions.

Not a word was said when he joined Martigan at the cart. The pair simply merging with the rest of the morning traffic and sliding out of town. Just one of another few dozen people seeking to head out for the day. The guards barely even looked twice at them as they trundled out, Martigan whistling a merry tune to himself while Troukul lounged in the passenger seat. Dressed simply, the could have been merchants still, or perhaps adventurers, or just travelers, any number of things that didn't exactly scream money.

It didn't take long before they were out of the city. Away from the bustle of it all, Martigan clicked and managed to work their beast, a mule that had seen better days, into a little faster pace. "I'm going to lay down," Troukul announced as they wove their way into the farmlands. Martigan nodding as he continued his little tune.

They didn't have a lot in the cart, not without the crate anymore. He threw his bedroll down and dropped onto it, curling onto his side and just staring at the aged wood as they rumbled out into the wilds. Only then did he allow soft, quiet tears to start rolling down his cheeks. There was no need to hold it in or keep up an act anymore. It was just him and his adopted father out here. No one else would think to look at the cart twice, with the driver merrily singing away to greet the morning.

Some time passed before Martigan spoke up. "Magpie?" his pet name for Troukul, thanks to his natural black and white coloring. "Magpie?" Troukul wiped at his eyes. "Tell me what happened."

A shiver raced down the dragonborn's spine. "Only..." he took a breath, "Only if you promise you won't go back there and do something stupid." Gods above and below, he couldn't bear the thought of them turning around, much less what might happen if the kenku took on that demon disguised as a dragonborn.

Martigan let out an unhappy croak and gnashed his beak, "I promise, Kid. I swear on my feathers, may they fall out, that I won't seek out revengence so long as you tell me everything." He still wondered where Martigan had heard that word. Sliding a hand under his tunic, he rubbed his aching core and took a breath. Starting slowly, he began to describe just what happened the night before.

The kenku was silent as he recounted everything form Narzire walking into the room right through to the bathhouse. The tears returned as he lay there, staring ahead at the wooden wall. He wasn't even aware of the kenku moving until those wing-arms brushed his side. Troukul stiffened at the touch as Martigan tried to turn him. It was only a moment, a mere breadth of time, then he rolled and buried his head into his adopted father's chest. Martigan breathed out a soft whistle and stroked over his back lightly.

"I am sorry." came the sorrowful croak, "I am so sorry." The larger dragonborn curled against the kenku, shoulders shaking as everything just came crashing down. He hated losing it like this. It was why he avoided drinking or indulging in certain things. Right now he just curled against the avian and cried like he hadn't since he was very young. And Martigan just held and comforted him as he did, apologizing to his kid as much as he could. Neither caring as the donkey took them off the trail and ducked his head to graze.

---

Troukul ground his teeth, "I'm going to be sick." He huffed and gripped the edge of the cart. It had been a week since their con and they'd been traveling almost non-stop since.

Martigan rolled his head to peer over at him, "Again? Told you you didn't trust that jerky." Beak clacked in a huff, "Farmer looked like he spent more time," he rolled out the sound of moans and pig squeals, "his produce than tending to his wares."

While he wasn't about to deny that the farmer was a little too fond of his livestock, Troukul couldn't ignore how his stomach twisted and wound. "It's not that. I think that bastard broke something." Neither one wished to speak the name of Narzire around the other, coming up with colorful names instead. He gripped his stomach and huffed as it flipped suddenly.

Beak snapped worriedly, "Is still hurting?" Martigan hopped up and stood on the edge of the rocking cart as easily as if it were solid rock. "Think there's... Ah there. Do you want to go to," throat shook as he sang out like a choir. He must have been worried to suggest going to a temple for healing.

And Troukul was feeling ill enough that he wanted to go to one. "Please." He groaned as the cart hit a bump and nearly threw him off. "I just want to get over this and finally put that behind us."

Nodding in agreement, he tightened his hold on the reins and tried to guide the stubborn beast around the worst of the ruts and bumps in the road. Which was easier said than done. They were approaching the seaport of Roltwich-by-the-caves. Not a large place, but large enough. It'd been raining almost constantly the last few days, turning the rough roads into little more than mud trails. Their poor mule was struggling to keep the cart moving in some places, much less worry about giving them a smooth ride.

They somehow managed to get to the temple on the outskirts of town without too much incident. One of the clerics came to meet them as they pulled up, hooded robe pulled up high enough to cover their face. "Greetings and welcome to the Temple of Lathander. How may I be of service?"

Martigan hopped down quickly, "My kid is hurt, need some of your healing help if okay."

If the priestess found it odd that the kenku called Troukul his kid, she kept it to herself. Instead holding out a hand to help steady the dragonborn as he swung off the cart. "Of course, the services f Lathander are open to all. Smoothly stepping alongside Troukul, she placed a soft hand on his back, "Please, follow me. If you'll take the cart to our stables, it will be cared to." Martigan clucked and pulled at the reins, drawing the beast away as Troukul was lead into the temple proper.

Calling it a temple would have been generous, if one compared such things to the grand temples within great cities. He was ushered through the main hall, looking only large enough for a few dozen people, and into a side room. Blinking he looked at the rather plain furnishing in the room as the cleric pushed her hood back and motioned to the bed. "Not the grandest of establishments, but I assure you that the bed is comfortable. Please, lay down and remove your shirt." The doe moved in as he obeyed, her smile soft and sweet, "When did you hurt yourself?" She glanced at the chest bindings, "Did you hurt your ribs?"

He shifted as her hands began to feel over his midsection. "No, it's lower." Fingers traced around his sore abs. "And a week ago, give or take." He hadn't really been keeping track of the days or distance. "I have been feeling rather ill for the last couple days."

She nodded and brushed her fingers along his bared scales. Humming softly to herself. "And how did you hurt yourself, Sweetie?" A soft smile spread across her muzzle as the dragonborn shifted with embarrassment. "It's okay," she said, dropping her voice, "By my vows, what is said in here will not leave this room. Even if your father questions and caws at me without end." She angled her head, "Although I must say, you don't look much like him."

"I've got his eyes," He smiled a little towards her and stared up at the ceiling. "About a week ago, I met this guy at an inn and he..." He took a shuddering breath, "he was rough."

Ears pinned back as the doe nodded. "Ah yes. I know how that can be." She brushed fingers against the bottom edge of the chest wrap, "Must say, this is a clever idea. Has probably kept you out of trouble until recently." There was that sad smile again, "Us ladies need to be careful out there sometimes, sad as it is to say." The doe heaved out a sigh and shook her head before continuing her examination.

Silence fell over the pair for a moment as she continued to examine. "What's your name?" The doe angled her head with a distracted hum. "Well, I don't end up in someone's bed with my shirt off without knowing their name at least."

The doe snorted out a laugh, "I am Torrine Zo , cleric of Lathander." She offered a slight head bow, "And your name?"

Troukul stared up at the ceiling, "Koliann." It was a name he'd heard ages ago at a tavern they'd stopped at. Chanted actually since that Koliann had been embroiled in a drinking contest with a dwarf. Some adventurers working through their newfound wealth.

"Koliann," she hummed, "That is a lovely name." Her head bowed slightly as she whispered a prayer under her breath, fingers glowing with a gentle warmth only briefly. "Well, it seems that everything is okay and the sickness will pass within..." she frowned in thought as her fingers felt, "I'd say another week or so. It is your first time so it might be longer, but then it will fully pass within three months."

Head lifted and the dragonborn blinked, "First time? What?"

Torrine looked at her and blinked, "I'm assuming its your first time since you don't know these symptoms. Normally, I would congratulate you but considering your reaction, I don't think that's appropriate." The doe sat down on the bed beside her and smile softly, "Dear, you're pregnant."

He could only stare at her in shock. Sure, he knew how babies were made, couldn't be around Martigan as long as he had been without learning that, but the fact that this priestess was telling him that he was... To say that he was shocked would have been putting it lightly.

"Magpie?" the call drifted through the door. "Magpie!"

Torrine looked at her questioningly with a slight arch to her brow. "It's his pet name for me." He explained dully, still in shock.

Eyes lit up in understanding as she nodded, "Ah of course. Do you want to see him, or should I send him away and say you need rest?" Gods above she just anted to curl up somewhere dark right now and forget about the world. That worm of fear that Martigan would go running off to collect Narzire's manhood on a platter rolled through her gut.

But he was the only support she had. "Please, I need to see him. We're kinda all the other has."

She flashed a smile, "Of course. We can arrange bedding here if you like, its plain but clean. There's also several good inns in town if you're prefer that. I'll go fetch your father and you can decide after you two have had a chance to talk."

---

The two months passed, but not without some hardships. Martigan and he had decided to stay in the area for the time being, having put hundreds of miles between themselves and the Firebrand, they felt they earned a rest. That and Torrine had threatened to string Martigan up by his ankles if he so much as thought about taking Troukul off.

He lay in the temple bed, having been there for nearly two weeks now. When he'd started bleeding, Torrine had ordered that he stay there and off his feet as much as possible. He'd been more than happy to oblige. Between his swollen ankles and the sheer size his belly had grown to, it was good to be in a comfortable bed. Seems that Narzire wasn't quite done ruining his body with his size, now his egg was going to make matters even worse.

Except it wasn't Narzire's egg. Sure, that bastard had a cock in helping create it, but he hadn't been the one that carried it for just over three months. At first, he'd wanted to lay blame on the growing egg, giving it every bit of ire that its father had earned. But Torrine and the other clerics had been helpful with that. Talking with him, listening when needed and offering advise and personal stories when they could. To his surprise, had helped a lot, as had talks with Martigan. Although certainly not in the way that the kenku had hoped they would.

He rolled onto his side slowly and looked at the egg that lay tucked in a bed made of rags. The room was warm, a thing of water on the brazier making it humid as well. It was needed, he'd been assured. Had to trust in the priests to know their business because he certainly didn't.

"How are you feeling?" Torrine ran her fingers over his back lightly. The cleric having been at his side for the whole birthing ordeal. She was... he wouldn't fully call her a friend, but she was certainly a comforting presence during all this.

A hand fell to his flattened stomach and ran over it slowly, "Empty." Not just physically, but on more levels than he could count. He was exhausted, the effort of laying taking everything out of him. Even now it felt like lifting his head would be a monumental effort.

Those hands stroked his side lightly, "That is understandable. Do you think you'll be okay tonight or do you want me to pull up a chair for the evening?"

Getting her to stay would have been nice, but he needed some time to think and people had been crowding around him too much the last few days. Martigan hadn't been around when the contractions started. The clerics had driven him out so he could rest and Troukul had asked that they not tell the kenku unless something went wrong.

He kept staring at the egg as if that black shell, with its coppery and silvered swirls, would hold all the answers in the world. "I think I'll be okay." Groaning, he looked over his shoulder and smile a little, "If I need, I'll call, but you need your rest too." He dropped to his side, "You look like hell."

She laughed, "Yea, it's almost like I helped some ungrateful whelp push out a small boulder." One more stroke over her back. "I'll be next door if you need me."

And then she was gone, door shutting behind to leave him alone with just the egg. Troukul stared at the shell as firelight glinted off it, staying there for a very long moment before shifting. An inch at a time, he crawled across the bedding, drawing himself closer to the nest. Grabbing the egg, he carefully hauled it into the bed with him, curling against the unyielding shell and sharing his warmth with it.

Hands traced over the shell gently as he lay there. "What are we going to do?" Martigan already had plans laid out and ready. They had more than enough money to readily and easily take a year or more off then it was back into the games. He was already talking about how they could easily work 'his kid's kid' into future cons. Laughing at how some of the tricks they'd used to pull had stopped once he'd gotten too big. "Bet you're going to be huge, aren't you?" Fingers traced one of the swirls slowly. "Or maybe fate will have a laugh and you'll be kenku sized."

Did he want that though? A fresh life, innocent and new to the world. He knew how rough it was at times. Going without meals for sometimes days. Without a warm bed or even a bed sometimes. Traveling from town to town with only one area that had ever been remotely like home. Even then, the Roost had been exceptionally drafty during the winter. There were countless times he'd wished he was someone else, anyone else with any other life. Did he want to subject a brand new person, his child, to that?

If he was exceptionally hard on himself then the answer was easy.

And yet the more he thought about that choice, the emptier he was feeling. He wanted to take care of this child that he hadn't ever even met before. Wouldn't possibly meet for many more months. There were steps he could take though. It wouldn't be too hard to find a nice little homestead and settle down. Maybe find something he could invest his money in, some market or merchant to keep things nice.

Except he knew that he couldn't stay in one place for long. These last two months, as nice as they had been, had him itching to get moving again. It was impossible to tell if that was just his habits of not wanting to stay too long, not wanting some past misdeed to catch up, or if he had a nomadic spirit. There was no way that he could take care of the child while moving. He could barely take care of himself sometimes. Couldn't even begin to fathom handling a child while trying to tend to himself at the same time! Just thinking about it he couldn't help but imagine trying t wrangle an unruly child and a drunk Martigan at the same time. Someone would end up dropped on their heads.

It left him with only one choice. He couldn't keep it.

That had been an option Torrine had brought up in their discussions. It wasn't unheard of, or even uncommon, for someone to be raised in the church. She herself had been and was thankful for it. He rubbed a thumb over the egg shell gently, "Would you enjoy it? Doesn't mean you have to be a cleric. You would get educated, learn to read and write and..." he sighed as he pressed his muzzle to the egg and closed his eyes.

Gods above he was tired. His body shaking from the strain of the day and now this emotional strain that he was putting himself through.

He must have been crying because the door creaked open, "Koliann, are you okay?" Torrine's voice was very bit as gentle as it could be. Her hooves sounding on the floorboards as she crossed the room slowly. He could feel his eyes on him as she stood at his beside, "Do you want me to leave?"

Troukul shook his head, "No, I..." he took a shuddering breath, "I want you to take care of the egg." The bed creaked softly as she sat down. "I can't... the way I live... oh gods I can't put a child through that." She shushed gently and ran her hand along his back gently. He sniffed and wiped at his nose with a wrist, feeling like little more than a lost child.

"It's okay, we won't judge and won't ask why. Just believe me that the child will be raised and treated like any other."

He sniffed, "Could you hand me my bag?" Mattress shifted as the doe got his pack. Not wanting to let go of the egg, he shifted to dig into his pack. Out came his coin pouch as well as a second, smaller one. "I want to make a donation to the church."

Torrine rested her hand on his, "Oh dear, you don't have to make any donation."

"No," he fished into the pouch, not caring what coins he gathered up as he just grabbed a handful. "It is the very least I can do." He pulled out a handful of coins and shoved them into his bag before pushing the still bulging pouch towards her. He and Martigan had split their score evenly and he'd barely spent any of his yet. While he didn't need a lot to live off of, he could only imaging how expensive a child might be. "Here," he offered, pushing the bag towards her. "I won't take no for an answer either."

Torrine's eyes widened at the bag, "This is more than generous..." She hesitated, "You didn't steal this did you?"

He shook his head,"No. I earned this money fair and square." Mostly. He had sold someone things to get the money, even if said things didn't belong to him. It was still a mostly legal transaction. "I just ask one thing from you."

"Anything, dear."

Troukul chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, playing with the pouch before pressing it into her hands as well. "I want you to give this to the child. Tell it... him... her, that their mother loved them dearly and that she wore this perfume." He barked out a sobbing laugh, "It's silly, I know, but my mother always..."

She stroked his cheek, "Shhh, I understand." Torrine smiled and took the pouch, tucking it into her pocket. "I'll personally make sure they know." He'd gotten very lucky and found the perfume on their trip out. With the knowledge, the only good thing from Narzire, that the perfume was something rare he'd managed to track down a single vial. The merchant had demanded an obscene price for it but he didn't care. If Martigan knew what he'd paid for it... well what the kenku didn't know wouldn't hurt either of them.

Torrine leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Sleep and don't worry. We'll love and care for the child. You just get some rest." He nodded and stayed curled around the egg, eyes getting heavier until he drifted off.

---

Not that he could've slept long even if he tried. The clerics had assured him that despite the size of the egg and the difficulty he'd had that he was healthy enough to move, even if they urged him to take a few days to recover. He couldn't though, he knew that if he stayed in that room too long, that if Martigan came in there and saw the egg, that it'd that much harder for him to stick to his choice.

So instead he'd slipped out in the middle of the night and made his way down into town. It took him longer than he'd have liked since he was still worn down to a threat, but he made it to where Martigan had settled in for the last while. As attractive as the inn sounded, they had gotten lucky and found an empty house that they'd rented from the mayor. Nothing glamorous, but it did let him unwind and get as comfortable as he could have. At least before he was put on bed rest in the temple. He hadn't paid attention to why it was empty, but it was comfortable. Not much more than the main room and a pair of smaller bedrooms. Knowing Martigan and his usual habits, he fully expected the kenku to have drunk himself senseless and then passed out in one of the rooms. If he'd really hit the bottles hard, Troukul could've marched in with a trope of performers and he wouldn't have done more than roll over and bury his head under a pillow.

Imagine his surprise when he opened the door and a very sober Martigan was sitting at the cabin's only table. Both stared at each other for a moment, Troukul thrown into shadows from the door and Martigan with his feet up on the table under the room's only lamp.

"Magpie? You shouldn't be out of bed, healers come chase you down and I'll help them." He hopped off the chair and turned up the lamp, "Now you turn around and..." whatever he had to say trailed off as Troukul stepped into the room. It took Martigan a beat to realize that he was back in his normal clothing, rather than those voluminous robes that the clerics of Lathander had him wearing while he'd been very egg-heavy. "Kid, you okay? Everything okay?"

Troukul took his time walking over to the table. He was still hurting in ways that he hadn't thought possible, still felt empty, but getting up and moving around had helped. A low groan rolled up his throat as he sank down into one of the other chairs, "No," he admitted. "I hurt inside and out."

Martigan hovered for a second before circling him, "Where is egg?" Troukul didn't answer, instead reaching for the pitcher on the table. Cider jugging from the smell. "Kid," Martigan's harsh croak was more insistent, "where is egg?"

Troukul was about to pour himself a cup from the cool pitcher, but the feathered hand stopped him. A low growl rolled up the dragonborn's throat, "The priests have it."

Eyes narrowed ever so slightly, facial feathers shifting from questioning fear to a low anger. "What mean," his voice shifted to a near perfect copy of Troukul's, "The priests have it?" The drop back to that harsher tone was almost shocking, "Why do Lathander priests have my kid's kid?"

"Because I don't want it!" Troukul bellowed as he surged up, chair crashing to the floor with a bang as his hands came down on the table. Lips were pulled back in a soundless snarl as he glared into the kenku's beady eyes. "I don't know how to raise a kid! I don't want it to have to fight for food like I have, never have a solid place to stay, have to live with me knowing..." his throat tightened and he croaked, "knowing that every time I looked at it I'd just be seeing him." Hot tears were starting to run down his cheeks as he shook, "I won't let that child grow up the same way I did."

Martigan's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Kid, I am going to get egg. Then we are going gone this place." Spinning on his heel, he marched for the door.

Troukul hissed as he turned too, "No." But the kenku was already reaching for the door latch. "No!" Martigan was pushing down on the latch. "NO!" the word exploded from him as he reached out, power erupting from outstretched fingers. Silvery light lashed from his fingers and crackled across the room in an instant. It slammed into the door, hitting immediately next to the kenku's hand. Water vapor condensed in the air a split-second after the light appeared, frost crawling across the heavy wooden door. He was shaking as he held his hand out, "I won't let you."

"You what?"

He'd only heard that tone from Martigan a handful of times in his life. That low hissing croak that was colder than the deepest winter. A tone that usually made whoever he was talking to back down, everyone but that one bandit leader. After the kenku was done with the leader, the rest of the bandits were more than happy to let them pass.

Frost swirled around Troukul's fingers as he straightened his back and glared down his muzzle at the kenku. "I said I won't let you. The egg stays with Lathander's priests."

Neither moved as they stared one another done. Troukul standing tall with mystical energies twining about him, ready to strike. Martigan hunched forward with a death grip on his cane. The air between them radiating with tension as the moment stretched into eternity.

A finger twitched.

Silver light exploded from Troukul, another icy ray lancing from his fingers. Martigan was moving before it could bridge the distance between them. Light spearing through the spot he'd been in an instant earlier. Body twisting around as feet scuffed off the wall. Troukul tried to move to keep up with the kenku, but Martigan was on him in a flash. Cane hissing through the air as it crashed off his arm then leg in rapid succession.

He barely had time to cry out as agony erupted from his limbs. The cane lashed out again, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending the taller dragonborn crashing to the rough wood floor. What control he had shattered as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

Martigan landed on top of him, one hand resting on the carved head of his cane as the other gripped the shaft. "I am going to get kid's egg whether kid likes it or not." He leaned in closer, pointed beak nearly touching Troukul's eye, "Then am leaving this place, with or without kid." Troukul was gasping as he tried to catch his breath, call upon his power. A foot slammed down on his wrist before his fingers could curl. "Will not let kid's kid be raised by priests. It will be raised as..."

He was cut off as the pitcher leapt from the table and slammed into the back of his hair. Cider rained down on them as he groaned deep in his throat. Troukul wasn't sure what he'd done, just that power had leapt from him to obey some deep urge. Now, while the kenku was dazed, he brought his hand up and shouted something in a language he'd never learned. Energy, raw and savage, leapt from him and wrapped around the kenku's mind and body. Encircling them like the most comfortable of blankets. He could feel that new spell draining from him, making his scales pale from the force needed to overcome the kenku.

Martigan blinked at him with wide eyes. He swayed, blinked, and then simply sagged against Troukul with a whistle-snore.

"Gods above," Troukul gasped as he lay there under his mentor. He reached up with a shaking hand to rub his aching head, only then realizing that he'd been crying. Shoulders shook from the strain of it all as he let himself have a moment. Only a moment though. There was no telling how long that new power might keep the kenku down.

It took longer than he'd like to admit to roll the bird off him and get to his feet. Giving birth, fighting the old bird, firing off two spells he'd never attempted before, it left him shaking and weak. And worse, he didn't even have any cider to brace himself with. "Just take things slow," he reminded himself as he braced against the table with a sigh.

Slow enough that dawn's light was starting to leak through the shutters as he returned to the main room with just a pack in tow. It had the barest essentials he'd need, some clothes, a few day rations, and what was left of his share of the funds. They had more things in a trunk that they shared, but nothing he couldn't live without. He hadn't bothered going into Martigan's room, he knew what was in the kenku's pack, and as tempting as it was to raid the squawker's money purse, they had a hard and fast rule against that. The money from a job was always split evenly and then they could do whatever they wished with their portion without the other judging too harshly.

Troukul shuffled from the room and nearly tripped over Martigan's cane. He paused for a moment, looking at it, to the snoring heap of feathers, then back down.

Lovingly polished wood seemed to glow in the lantern's light. He could feel energy humming from it as it rolled back against his foot. Crouching, he gently picked up the cane and rolled it in his grip. Giving the head a gentle twist and pull, he unsheathed enough to reveal the bluish blade. Blue-white flame rolled from the cane-sheath to lick at his fingers with their icy touch. It was colder than cold, Martigan called it The Graveminder. He stared at the flames for a long while before sheathing the blade again with a decisive click.

Leaning the cane against the table, he set a note down on the table. It wasn't much. Just something he'd felt like writing down in the coded language that he shared with Martigan. A quick thing saying that he needed some time alone, begging the kenku not to seek out the egg, and saying that he would return to roost before winter time.

And then he was gone.

He'd made his fair share of trips around the town in the last couple months. A few people knew of Koliann, it was a small enough town that it was impossible to avoid that. Normally, he'd want to recolor his scales with magic, but he could barely stand up right now much less maintain even a simple recoloring. So he'd just have to maintain the Koliann persona until he was ready to leave. It wouldn't be too bad all things considered.

The tailor was just opening her shop when Koliann strolled up, "Hello," she started softly and flashed a smile. "I hate to bother you, but..."

"It's not bother," the tall, spidery tabaxi flashed a smile at her, "What can I do for you?" Eyes danced over her body, "Koliann was it? Come to get some new clothing after birthing?" He lead the way into the shop, already moving around to the various bins of clothing.

She nodded, "Yes, my things are a little threadbare, but serviceable. I just need an outfit or two for traveling."

Teeth flashed in a quick smile, "Of course, right this way." He lead the way to a set of glass mirrors, pulling a measuring tape from a pocket so he could begin the fitting.

Much to her surprise, the tailor had several things in her size and he didn't blink twice at the request for male clothing. Praising her as being smart for wishing to hide that she was a female since it made things safer while traveling. Coins changed hand and she left the store with some clothes that would be suitable for traveling. Nothing fancy, but nothing too plain either, student's wear.

A quick trip into an alleyway and a change of clothes left Koliann behind. Troukul venturing down to the edges of town. A few questions and a little searching turned up a wagon company taking customers and goods out of the area. "Name," yawned the caravan leader.

"Graffion," he almost purred the name, standing as straight-backed as he could. "Graffion DeLuc," he leaned forward to spell out his last name, "No no, capital L, there you go." Eyes rolled as he breathed out a heavy sigh, "Father has called me home, seems he's deemed it time for me to return to University and continue my studies there."

"Uh huh." He spun the ledger around, "Sign here, fee's 20 silver if you're wanting to go as far as we are headed." Graf pulled the coinage from his ever-dwindling supply and handed it over with a smile. "Alright, throw your stuff into that wagon there. We're leaving in two hours so if you want food had better be back before then or we'll leave without you."

He kept that easy-going smile, "Splendid and no need to worry, Chap, I went ahead and procured a spot of breakfast before coming here." He fished out a packet with a simple breakfast. "And I have an extra sweetbread if you are interested."

Twenty silver and one sweetbread lighter, Graf moved into the wagon and dropped onto a bench with a huff. His pack found its way under the seat and breakfast into his belly. The dragonborn breathed out a sigh and crossed his arms, leaning back and letting his head droop slowly. Things had changed since that job. Just wasn't sure that he liked it. It only took a few breathes before he was nodding off as the already weary day overtook him.

---

Winter was just staring to bite as Graf wandered through the streets. It'd been the better part of a year when he'd parted ways with Martigan. He'd been fairly successful under the persona of Graf. Successful enough that he hadn't even considered going back to Troukul. Nobles, as it turned out, were want to welcome one into their midst so long as The Dance was observed. That graceful, delicate dance of power and knowledge. He'd built on the Graffion persona, building him into the third son of an Archduke for some far off country of Amatta. Far enough that while most nobles had heard of it, no one had actually met anyone from that area. Of course they knew of where he'd been educated, there wasn't a noble he'd talked to that didn't have some distant cousin or uncle that hadn't had attended the grand Watts-Amatta University. A little story spinning and a few very carefully crafted right of birth papers were all he needed to worm his way into one house or another on his travels.

Now here he was, back in the closest thing he had to a home. He wasn't sure what the town was called, to be honest, people from nearby towns just called it Bird Central, and the Kenku there just called it home. It was only a town by the longest stretch of the word. Most of the buildings weren't made of stone. Wooden structures, lots of tents, some a mix of the two. This is what he'd meant when he said he'd return to Roost all those months ago. There had been times when he wasn't sure if he'd return or not. If he'd just stay out and enjoy his newfound lifestyle as some far-off noble and simply travel where the wind took him.

But he missed Martigan.

Weaving his way through the streets and chattering Kenku, he found himself outside of a lopsided building. A tavern called The Featherduster. He couldn't keep the smile from crawling over his lips as he started up the creaking stairs. "Not open!" called a voice before he'd even taken a single step. "Come back later later, yes?"

An older female kenku, brightly colored feathers tucked into her own glossy black plumage peered at him from a window.

"I don't come for drink-drink, I come to roost." Angling his head, Graf stepped back and did his best imitation of a bell ringing. "Been away from nest too long and my wings are tired." He stretched his arms out and mimicked Martigan's whistle-snoring.

Eyes widened as she trilled, "Magpie!" Window shuttered slammed followed by the sound of taloned feet rushing down the stairs. The tavern's front door burst open and the older kenku female practically tackled him with a hug and chorus of calls. "Afraid you were gone-lost when," a very rude noise, "came back without."

Ring Bell was the closest thing to a wife that Martigan ever had, they had a handful of chicks together, and she might very well be the closest thing to a mother he'd ever experienced. So he was glad to return the hug to her as she rubbed her beak to his cheek and clattered. "Where is the old bird?"

That stopped the excited reunion in a heartbeat. "You haven't heard?" was the soft response. Icy chill ran up his spine slowly as he shook his head. "He is..." she croaked in her throat before uttering a sound not unlike a mournful church bell. The sound was picked up by several other kenku that had ventured into the street and out of the tavern, echoing up and down the road.

"Ho..." Graf choked, "How?"

She shook her head and huffed, "Left you note in roost, said for Magpie only. Go read."

The roost was an attic room in the Featherduster, a pair of beds, a dresser, and a table. Not even any chairs. Waiting for him on the table was a note sealed with wax and with a ring resting on top of it. The ring was something Martigan had won off some noble countless ages ago, or so he said, and is what had inspired the character of Graffion DeLuc.

Taking the heavy signet, he slipped it into a pocket and sat down on the creaking hammock bed. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he called up a floating light and broke that seal.

Magpie,

I just want to say I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I didn't go with your wishes about egg. It was your choice what to do and probably right one. Far better to let kid grow up with people that know how to care for him. Admit that I am not good father, didn't know what I was doing with raising you, but did best. Didn't turn out bad, eh? Got other sons and daughters, but you are my kid. Proud of you. Always have been. Always will be. When your mother left you with me, didn't know how I'd manage. Don't think I did too bad, eh?

I'm sorry that I can't keep promise to you either. Woke up after your little spell-trick and watched as you gathered things. Need to practice that one, make it last longer if you can. Glad you didn't take Graveminder with you, needed him for one more task. Going to peck out Narzire's eyes for what he did to kid. So sorry that I cannot keep my promise there.

I'm so sorry that I lashed out at you like that. Never meant to hurt my kid. Never wanted to hurt my Magpie. Maybe can find some redemption here, eh? Apologize for my part in it all.

With all my love, to my truest kid.

He didn't know how long he sat there. Must had read the letter a thousand times that night. No sooner would he finish reading over the scratchy script than he'd start again. He was numb. That's the only way to put it. He was utterly numb as he read over the letter, knowing that he'd never see Martigan again. Never joke with the old bird. Help him get to his bed when he had drank himself insensible. Never be able to tell him about the latest scheme of Graf. Never...

The letter fell from his fingers to flutter to the ground. Head dipping forward to stare at it blankly. There were no tears, he was in a place beyond them right now. He just felt... tired.

Roped creaked as he lay down in the hammock, not bothering to remove his clothing. He just stared across at the empty nest-bed, expecting Martigan to come in at any moment. Cawing with laughter, maybe with a chick on his back or smelling of Bell, always with a song or story for him.

A soft creak made Graf lift his head. A young kenku who was more puff than body peering at him from the door. "Hey," he uttered a squeaking noise. He barely knew the chick. She'd hatched last time they came around to roost, one of Martigan and Bell Ring's daughters, but she'd always liked being around him. Now she shuffled across the floor without a word and climbed into the hammock, curling against his flank with a sigh. Wordlessly, he tucked and arm around Mouse Squeak and closed his eyes. Sleep is what he needed. Sleep and time to process everything.

---

"There you are, Pet!" Narzire's grin lit up as flames licked from his muzzle. The large male pinned Graf down with a snarl. "I have been searching for you for a very, very long time..." A blazing hand closed around his throat, cutting off the chance for any sort of spell to save him. Blood dripped from Narzire's ruined eye as the male drove against him with a growl. "You move, I'll break your jaw..." teeth bared. A warning to the caster as the hand freed from his throat. The icy blade of a knife kissed his scaled belly before slicing upwards, opening his top in a quick jerk.

Graf called out and tried to strike back, but the mercenary was quicker. Boulder-like fist of his replacement arm crashing into his face hard enough to snap bone. With the dragonborn sorcerer stunned, Narzire continued to strip off Graf's clothing. "You cost me a lot, little whore. Money, respect, my eye, my favorite arm..." he flashed a crooked grin, "my child. And I am going to take what I am owed. Starting with a new child..." Burning length pressed against his belly as the male ground against him. Drawing back, he grinned down at the sorcerer and probed. "Ready or not, payment's due!" Narzire bellowed out as he threw his heavy frame forward.

He snapped awake, heart hammering away in his chest. It took everything Graf had to not bolt upright, screaming in the wake up that nightmare. The dragonborn lay on his side, breathing quickly as his heart hammered away in his chest like a panicked rabbit. Another nightmare, not the first and not the last. There was no telling when or where one would strike him. Each one proudly featuring Narzire Firebrand in some new scenario, deciding to 'extract payment' from him. And each time he would be sporting gruesome wounds from his encounter with Martigan.

Over the years, he had poked his head into various bars and other places, always in disguise, and started up small talk with various people. Most knew of the Firebrands it seemed, or at least had heard rumors. It wasn't hard to get heresay and rumors. Especially about the time that someone had ripped off the Firebrands. Not only ripped them off, but then came back to fight with the leader afterwards! Oh the stories that they would tell about Martigan going after Narzire.

A lot of them conflicted with each other, but there were enough that he was able to gleam a few truths. Or at least he thought they were. Narzire had lost an eye, that much was sure, and he did lose a limb or at least part of one. Some said he lost an arm. Others just a hand. There was talk of a missing leg from a couple as well. What each story did agree on was that the kenku had exacted more than a pound of flesh from the dragonborn before he was taken down. From the stories told, he was mournfully grateful he hadn't come across the scene that followed.

Nearly every story agreed that the kenku had been beaten and carved up before being nailed to a city wall with a warning. Of course the guards hadn't investigated too hard into it. None dared go after the Firebrands. Not over just a dead kenku. Who cared about them after all?

He did. Not a day went by that he didn't miss the old bird. Much as he and Martigan argued, the squawker was the only family he knew. Martigan had been his father, and he'd done the best that he could have in the situation presented.

Graf calmed his nerves with a soft pant and rolled onto his other side. He stared out into dark and listened to the soft bustling and muttering from the other room.

How long would these nightmares torment him? Admittedly, they'd become less frequent over the years but they always came without warning. Years... A hand fell to his clothed stomach and ran over it slowly with a quiet sigh. It had been a decade and he still felt empty, still felt that fear. Ten years, countless miles traveled, and now gone to a whole new continent even. Isola, they called it, a place that he'd never heard of in his travels. Which was only fair since it seemed no one had heard of where they hailed from. Which was run of the mill for him, since he hadn't yet found a reason to abandon Graffion. Although he might have to alter a few details now to keep up the persona.

A soft sigh slipped from his muzzle as he tucked an arm under his head, laying on the uncomfortable cot. In the darkness, he could hear the soft breathes and thunderous snores of his traveling companions. Over Grig's grumbling snores, he could hear the occasional curse from Joshua as the lich fumbled through books and experiments to figure out what brought them here.

He cast a glance at the cleric, maybe it had been Grig's snores that triggered the dream? Perhaps not. They were deep and somewhat friendly. Not like Narzire's animalistic slumbering snarls. He cast a quick glance around at the mountainous Grig. The sprawled mess of Corrine and Pickle, surrounded by several bottles holding the druid's home brews. To the sleeping Feng, still clutching his trident. All of them strangers in this new world.

Graf let out a quiet sigh and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. A dry chuckle rolled in his throat. He'd wanted to slip away from being uncovered by his latest partner. The baroness had been great fun while they were together, but then she began to investigate him and even paid someone to tail him. All to make sure that he wasn't running around on her. If she found out that he was running scams to earn his coin, well she did love her gossip. He'd gotten comfortable as Graffion and would've been loathe to abandon such a nice identity.

The person she'd had following him only saw him coming out of a rather seedy tavern. Luckily he had no knowledge of what Graf had been doing inside. Only presuming that he'd been there to get a cheap tart. A rumor about womanizing he could deal with, tales of scamming he could not. So he'd done what any reasonable person would and beat the man to the Baroness, weaving a story about how he'd been called away by the King himself to take on a monumental task. Even producing an invitation (carefully copied of course) to this grand expedition. Of course since he was a third son, he wasn't going as nobility, but a guard task did fit nicely with the Adventuring persona he'd cultivated.

Oh the baroness had cried, he'd wooed, she'd swooned, and they had a very fine fare-thee-well before he'd set out. Be careful, she begged him, don't want to injure his poor chest any further. He let a brief smile slip across his lips. A chest injury, broken ribs that hadn't been tended to properly, was his go-to for why his chest was forever bound. Lack of good foreplay among the nobility helped his cause. While she enjoyed what he did to her, she rarely returned the favor.

Ah but she'd been good in bed regardless. Stretching, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was just drifting when Grig's snoring changed pitch. Reaching out with a simple bit of magic, he puffed a bit of air against the cleric's neck. The snores turned to a snort, a grunt, and then he rolled over a little. With the new quieter sleeping arrangements, Graf closed his eyes once more and let himself drift to sleep.