Emperor Night

'I can't believe that damn fairy.' Jonathan thought to himself as he stared into the fire. He felt it's warmth beating against his face or perhaps that warmth was just him feeling fl.u.s.tered from the night's activities. Watching Saikhi be used by the Captain and his men had given Jonathan a nagging itch that needed to be scratched. His pants had done little to conceal his arousal and it didn't take long for Saikhi to notice. After they set up camp she clearly saw that it was still a problem. She offered to help relieve her Master's passion. An offer that Jonathan was quick to accept despite it feeling like he was taking advantage of her servitude. He didn't think straight when he was horny. No one did.

The plan for the pair and their shaggy Cren was to head north to Rainfell, the land of the Faen. Rainfell was still technically in Empire territory, the whole damned continent was, but the Empire's actual presence there was negligible. The majority of inhabitants in Rainfell were Faen, a race of long-pointed-ear humanoids with generally sharp features. Jonathan would have to do his best not offhandedly call them elves. Saikhi was confused when Jonathan asked if the Faen didn't grow old, she did her best to not look at Jonathan like he was a madman. Nope, just around 70 to 90 years, she had said, like most other races. The trip to Rainfell was going to take about a month of traveling. Well it, would have, if Saikhi didn't insist that they take several detours to avoid detection, like through the ill-maintained forest road they found themselves on now. At this rate it was going to be closer to two. Jonathan had packed his Cren, whom he affectionately named Stew, with enough long-lasting dried and persevered food to last them at least twice that tine. There would be no need to stew Stew along the way.

The plan seemed fine and Saikhi had been way more than fine. The problem that Jonathan was having right now was with his little blue fairy-god-idiot Lily. He had opened the guidebook to talk to her just as he had done before. He decided to cut straight to the point and ask her about the thing she kept on forgetting to tell him at the end of their talks. "The only way to turn off your powers for extended periods of time is to retrieve your nullification stone." Lily had said to him gleefully. The location of which, according to Lily, was back in the Greedy Mead Tavern. The unassuming round artifact had fallen idly to the ground and lodged itself between the cracks of the floor boards when Jonathan had made his initial escape. "You should definitely pick it up before leaving!" she insisted. That was when the arguing started. Jonathan was pissed that such an important thing was not mentioned sooner. There was no way he could go back for it now. Every person that he touched would be at risk of losing control of their s.e.x.u.a.l d.e.s.i.r.es unless Jonathan purposefully and clearly chanted 'conievo' before touching them and it only worked for one interaction. He had to chant those magic words each and every time. Nothing else was learned from Lily that night except for a few more insulting nicknames she had thought of for Jonathan.

Jonathan sighed as he stood up from his bedroll. He grabbed the nearby bucket of dirt that he had filled to extinguish the fire. It was something he had learned to do as a young boy scout. Extinguishing the fire seemed like a waste, it had taken him ages to get it lit and it had only burnt for about an hour. But he wanted to rest and didn't like the idea of waking up to the smell of one of his appendages on fire. The flame disappeared under a torrent of dirt as Jonathan voided the bucket. The light that had reflected off the tall lumbering trees that surrounded him faded to black. He laid down on his bedroll and closed his heavy his eyes.

It was no good, he couldn't sleep. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs and grab a drink. Jonathan stood back up and wandered towards Stew. The Cren had fallen asleep beside the fire's smoldering remains. Jonathan had placed the water skins in one of the satchels on Stew's left side, or at least he thought he did. With so many different pockets the Cren looked like a giant pair of walking cargo pants. he would probably need to check a few pockets before he found his flask.

A shadow, a flicker of something moved from behind the sleeping beast. Jonathan froze in place as he tried to discern what it was. He was certain he saw something dart in the darkness. He froze in place and surveyed his surroundings. A lurking shadow, late at night, in a poorly lit campsite? He had seen this movie before, and it didn't end well for the protagonist. He inched back, towards the magical spear he kept next to his bedroll, he wasn't going to investigate unarmed. Jonathan braced himself as the shadow rose from behind the Cren, he was prepared to dash for his weapon. "Sorry to awaken you Master. I just needed a drink." Relief. It was only Saikhi. Jonathan let out a sigh. He hadn't notice her get up.

"It's alright I was still up. I needed a drink as-" Jonathan words were cut-off by a loud grunt from Saikhi. Something rope-like hit her and wrap around her body. She toppled over, her legs and left arm bound by a device with two heavy balls on either end. Was that a bolas? Jonathan had used such a weapon to capture prisoners in D&D but he had only ever read about what it looked like in a book, he had never actually seen one before. It didn't matter, he needed to act. He dove to his spear, missed the softness of his bedroll and skidded along the ground next to it. He was within arms reach of his weapon. Another bolas from the darkness soared through the air, narrowly missing Jonathan's head during his decent. It lodged itself in the trunk of a nearby tree, bark splintered off and peppered Jonathan's position.

Jonathan hastily retrieved his magic spear from it's residence within the burlap sack. He stood to one knee and pointed it towards the source of the danger. He could see her now. A toned, wild looking woman with dark hair. Her body covered from head to toe in intricately tattooed line-work, the furs she wore protected only the b.a.r.e minimum of what would be considered decent. She held her hatchet in her left hand as she twirled around another bolas above her. Jonathan had a knack for running into dangerous, beautiful women lately. A habit he was hoping to kick. The wild woman let loose her bolas, it sung through the air towards Jonathan. He held his spear at the ready hoping to knock the projectile away or at very least have it wrap around his spear instead of wrapping around him. To his surprise, it worked, but not in the way Jonathan was expecting. The tip of the spear had mutated, it's liquid metal molded itself into a large shield-like dome that deflected the attack. 'This thing is full of surprises.' he thought as the spear returned to it's original form.

The wild woman charged forward, her footsteps betraying no hint of noise as she advanced. Before Jonathan could think, the woman had closed the distance. She hacked aside the shaft of Jonathan's spear with the head of her hatchet and cracked Jonathan squarely again his chin with her b.a.r.e fist. Surprisingly, Jonathan didn't crumble like a rag doll from the strike, it still hurt like hell though. This woman had a powerful swing. Jonathan briefly realized what had saved him from taking the full force of the blow. After being knocked to the side by the woman's hatchet, his spear had shifted and elongated around her feet, causing her to lose balance. She nimbly rolled into her fall and away from Jonathan, giving him a moment of reprieve. The wild woman started to breath heavily as her body grew hot. She had made contact and was clearly under the effect of Jonathan's ability. Maybe Jonathan would be alright after all.

The sudden rush of arousal didn't dissuade the wild woman from continuing her relentless assault. She lunged forward, pouncing like a wild cat. Once again she knocked the spear to the side but this time she anticipated the spear's counterattack and avoided it. She knocked the wind out of Jonathan with a quick jab to the gut and he crumpled to the ground like a cheap slinky. He was disarmed and fully at the mercy of the ferocious woman. She looked down at Jonathan, her dark brown eyes betrayed a look of hunger. She mounted him, constraining his body in a vice-like grip between her powerful t.h.i.g.hs as she bound his wrists together with the last bolas that remained on her belt. Jonathan somehow knew where this was going.