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7/10/2025, 5:41:39 AM
>>6272799
Her body twists, and somehow Juniper escapes the dreadknight's cold iron grasp. She runs as fast as she can, fleeing past the screaming villagers as the skeletons cut them down. Militia from Goldgrain too appear to have joined, most of them young bachelors whose faces Juniper barely remembered. Martin as well, driving his sword of dreams through the heart of the last standing adventurers. The wound at her side burned horribly and wonderfully, the pain and pleasure seeping through her veins.
She had to escape. She had to make it to Lord Kettleburn's estate and warn him of the dreadknight's forces, of her appearance if she tried to infiltrate another of his villages. But first she had to hide, and to heal her wounds before they took her.
She found a place in the shadow of a mill. Between some boxes, out of sight and mind. With skillfull hands she pulsed her chi, a healing wave that should have cleansed her body of the wound and its the taint.
The wound devoured it.
And then, it devoured Juniper.
=================
"Hah~"
After a hard day's work and a well fought battle, you've commandeered the house of the now deceased headman of Emberheart and are breaking in his most comfortable chair. A glass of the headman's finest wine is at your side, a frumpy revenant you stuffed into a maid outfit is feeding you a cut from his fattest calf, and his wife is eagerly assisting your latest conquest in attending to your every need. As revenants, neither the headman's wife nor the Angelblood have technique half as good as your dear Tiff, but having both of them working the job at once makes up for their sloppy performance.
Of course, with the fighting done, you didn't just run off to have fun. You had to secure the survivors who tried to flee or hide. Most of them the women, which means that once Varten comes up to Brightsprings you'll have a good amount of coin in your wallet. Legally speaking, prisoners are the property of the Dreadknight who takes them, after all.
Once that finished up, there were petitions from the young men who came down from Goldgrain to fight for you.
Largely, they wanted your blessing to take the women they captured as their wives. Being traitors to the Empire made that tricky, but honestly most of them were of an age with the bachelors. Women barely in their twenties, no doubt able to spin a sob story about being swept up in the foolishness of their families. Since they captured those women themselves, you didn't really have any legal standing to deny them what they wanted. You did, however, mandate that both they and their new wives accepted your profane gift, to encourage their loyalty to the Empire.
By blood.
Her body twists, and somehow Juniper escapes the dreadknight's cold iron grasp. She runs as fast as she can, fleeing past the screaming villagers as the skeletons cut them down. Militia from Goldgrain too appear to have joined, most of them young bachelors whose faces Juniper barely remembered. Martin as well, driving his sword of dreams through the heart of the last standing adventurers. The wound at her side burned horribly and wonderfully, the pain and pleasure seeping through her veins.
She had to escape. She had to make it to Lord Kettleburn's estate and warn him of the dreadknight's forces, of her appearance if she tried to infiltrate another of his villages. But first she had to hide, and to heal her wounds before they took her.
She found a place in the shadow of a mill. Between some boxes, out of sight and mind. With skillfull hands she pulsed her chi, a healing wave that should have cleansed her body of the wound and its the taint.
The wound devoured it.
And then, it devoured Juniper.
=================
"Hah~"
After a hard day's work and a well fought battle, you've commandeered the house of the now deceased headman of Emberheart and are breaking in his most comfortable chair. A glass of the headman's finest wine is at your side, a frumpy revenant you stuffed into a maid outfit is feeding you a cut from his fattest calf, and his wife is eagerly assisting your latest conquest in attending to your every need. As revenants, neither the headman's wife nor the Angelblood have technique half as good as your dear Tiff, but having both of them working the job at once makes up for their sloppy performance.
Of course, with the fighting done, you didn't just run off to have fun. You had to secure the survivors who tried to flee or hide. Most of them the women, which means that once Varten comes up to Brightsprings you'll have a good amount of coin in your wallet. Legally speaking, prisoners are the property of the Dreadknight who takes them, after all.
Once that finished up, there were petitions from the young men who came down from Goldgrain to fight for you.
Largely, they wanted your blessing to take the women they captured as their wives. Being traitors to the Empire made that tricky, but honestly most of them were of an age with the bachelors. Women barely in their twenties, no doubt able to spin a sob story about being swept up in the foolishness of their families. Since they captured those women themselves, you didn't really have any legal standing to deny them what they wanted. You did, however, mandate that both they and their new wives accepted your profane gift, to encourage their loyalty to the Empire.
By blood.
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