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Description
Moonlight struggled to be seen through the branches of the trees, the thick forest surrounding Suldanesselar easily giving way to darkness. While the shade was a welcome relief from the hot, Amnian sun during the day, it made the group wary during the nights. It would be far too easy for some creature—a vampire, likely, given their recent battles, to creep upon them in the middle of the night, slitting their throats with a few swift strikes.

The reality of possible death was not a new thing to the group, however. Most of them slept soundly, or as soundly as they could, given their previous experiences, while one of their own stood watch.

She did not need to rely on the scarce moonlight in order to see her hands before her, sorting through her satchel of knives, and gently removing the poison residue. There was no need to keep their venemous edge during the evening. She could reach them easily enough, and it was more likely that one of the clumsier companions would slip and pierce themselves with a poisoned blade.

As she moved her equipment about, she noticed something. The satchel, when hanging against her wrist, looked oddly like a beard. More specifically, like Anomen's beard. And the glint of her knife in her hand held the same silver as Keldorn's graying hair.

Gods, those two were insufferable! Always speaking about duty, vigilance, the eternal expression of constipation that came with the knighthood, etc. Thank Mask that Gabriel was not like that…she'd have strangled him eons ago if he spoke of nothing but his duties.

A little smirk crossed her face, and she began to move her slim hands, mimicking the two paladins' voices with her fingers. "Sir Anomen, one must remain vigilant in order to follow the path of knighthood."

She jiggled her satchel back and forth, and spoke in a nasally voice, "Oh Sir Keldorn, you speak with great wisdom! If only I were as close to holiness as you! Might…might this humble knight place his lips upon yours? If only to sample a taste of the wisdom you hold?"

"I suppose so, good knight. It is for the good of Torm, after all."

She mashed her hands together in a parody of a kiss, fingers squirming back and forth, and locking in frenzied motions.

"Tis the glory of Helm, Sir Keldorn! I can taste it upon your lips! Tis rough and callused, but aged as well as a fine wine."

A little snicker escaped her at her next lines, "You sing praises to your god, good knight. But I have far better uses for that tongue of yours."

The gestures gradually became far more obscene, her dark fingers bending and twisting into inconcievable motions.

"Sir Keldorn…I…I want you. Please, plunge your holy sword deep into my tight chalice of purity. I beg of you, Sir Keldorn, I shall expire on the spot should you not!"

"Calm yourself, lad. It takes a man of my years some time to…*ahem*…stand amongst the righteous. Give this knight but four minutes, and I shall smite the darkness within you."

She was growing more and more engrossed in her obscene display, not hearing the footsteps that approached behind her.

"Sir Keldorn, might I kiss you once more? I wish only to express my devotion to Helm. Please, allow me just the gentlest of caresses, good knight! I wish to run my fingers through your untamed, silver mane! To sink my teeth deep into your flabby biceps! To run my tongue over your wrinkled buttocks!"

"You must not give into temptation, Anomen. A true paladin never goes ass to mouth."

"It's true." A familiar voice responded, causing the assassin to jump in surprise.

She whipped around to see Gabriel, just as he smirked, and added, "One must remain vigilant, after all."

"How…how much of that did you hear?" She asked, little splotches of red beginning to rise on her cheeks.

"Enough that I'm horrified, yet intrigued. I have to see how it ends." Gabe chuckled, taking a seat. "Go on, Lyme."

Lyme grinned, and lifted her fingers once more. "Oh, but Sir Keldorn! It will take forever to wash your holy presence out of my beard!"

"One must make sacrifices for duty, Sir Anomen…"

Description
Moonlight struggled to be seen through the branches of the trees, the thick forest surrounding Suldanesselar easily giving way to darkness. While the shade was a welcome relief from the hot, Amnian sun during the day, it made the group wary during the nights. It would be far too easy for some creature—a vampire, likely, given their recent battles, to creep upon them in the middle of the night, slitting their throats with a few swift strikes.

The reality of possible death was not a new thing to the group, however. Most of them slept soundly, or as soundly as they could, given their previous experiences, while one of their own stood watch.

She did not need to rely on the scarce moonlight in order to see her hands before her, sorting through her satchel of knives, and gently removing the poison residue. There was no need to keep their venemous edge during the evening. She could reach them easily enough, and it was more likely that one of the clumsier companions would slip and pierce themselves with a poisoned blade.

As she moved her equipment about, she noticed something. The satchel, when hanging against her wrist, looked oddly like a beard. More specifically, like Anomen's beard. And the glint of her knife in her hand held the same silver as Keldorn's graying hair.

Gods, those two were insufferable! Always speaking about duty, vigilance, the eternal expression of constipation that came with the knighthood, etc. Thank Mask that Gabriel was not like that…she'd have strangled him eons ago if he spoke of nothing but his duties.

A little smirk crossed her face, and she began to move her slim hands, mimicking the two paladins' voices with her fingers. "Sir Anomen, one must remain vigilant in order to follow the path of knighthood."

She jiggled her satchel back and forth, and spoke in a nasally voice, "Oh Sir Keldorn, you speak with great wisdom! If only I were as close to holiness as you! Might…might this humble knight place his lips upon yours? If only to sample a taste of the wisdom you hold?"

"I suppose so, good knight. It is for the good of Torm, after all."

She mashed her hands together in a parody of a kiss, fingers squirming back and forth, and locking in frenzied motions.

"Tis the glory of Helm, Sir Keldorn! I can taste it upon your lips! Tis rough and callused, but aged as well as a fine wine."

A little snicker escaped her at her next lines, "You sing praises to your god, good knight. But I have far better uses for that tongue of yours."

The gestures gradually became far more obscene, her dark fingers bending and twisting into inconcievable motions.

"Sir Keldorn…I…I want you. Please, plunge your holy sword deep into my tight chalice of purity. I beg of you, Sir Keldorn, I shall expire on the spot should you not!"

"Calm yourself, lad. It takes a man of my years some time to…*ahem*…stand amongst the righteous. Give this knight but four minutes, and I shall smite the darkness within you."

She was growing more and more engrossed in her obscene display, not hearing the footsteps that approached behind her.

"Sir Keldorn, might I kiss you once more? I wish only to express my devotion to Helm. Please, allow me just the gentlest of caresses, good knight! I wish to run my fingers through your untamed, silver mane! To sink my teeth deep into your flabby biceps! To run my tongue over your wrinkled buttocks!"

"You must not give into temptation, Anomen. A true paladin never goes ass to mouth."

"It's true." A familiar voice responded, causing the assassin to jump in surprise.

She whipped around to see Gabriel, just as he smirked, and added, "One must remain vigilant, after all."

"How…how much of that did you hear?" She asked, little splotches of red beginning to rise on her cheeks.

"Enough that I'm horrified, yet intrigued. I have to see how it ends." Gabe chuckled, taking a seat. "Go on, Lyme."

Lyme grinned, and lifted her fingers once more. "Oh, but Sir Keldorn! It will take forever to wash your holy presence out of my beard!"

"One must make sacrifices for duty, Sir Anomen…"