“Pay attention to what you are doing, you blunderous auroch’ Aurora Goodekin hissed at her companion, as he applied a poultice to the wound on her thigh.
“Of course, your Dameship” Sammeal Hargrove responded sarcastically, as he daubed the healing balm into the arrow wound. He used the title Dameship as a weapon, to intentionally spite the young half-elf maiden sitting in front of him, knowing she would never be able to claim the formal title of a Paladin for herself. “But know the Gnolls have been known to coat their arrows in black serpent venom in order to finish the victims they don’t kill outright.” He continued to massage her alabaster upper thigh, partially to get the mixture of herbs saturated into the wound, partially for his own enjoyment. “I don’t need you passing out on our way through Three Dagger Pass if we are going to try to ambush the remaining Gnolls.”
Aurora Goodekin sighed, the sensation of the former Ranger rubbing her thigh not entirely unpleasant, watching the flames crackle against the darkness, as he continued dressing her wound. Her body felt exhausted, but her mind vigilant, a side effect of the furious battle with the rearguard left by the Gnolls to cover their escape up the cliffs of the Cloudlid Mountains. The fighting wasn’t over, not with the alpha of the Gnoll pack still alive, but they were in disorder, and on the retreat. She knew that even if she were successful in eradicating the threat, it wouldn’t erase the shame she felt from being expulsed from the Order of the Sacred Hand for impurity, but at least she could return to her ancestral home of Autumngate with a scrap of dignity.
As she began to lull, she watched her “companions” around the fire. A massively muscular half-orc, Xor, sat across from her, sharpening the point of a great spear, stripped down to his breechcloth despite the cold winds. He had field dressings on his shoulder, placed there by the Ranger, for the two arrow wounds he took in the battle. She didn’t trust Xor of the Great Red Plains Tribe, an uncouth barbarian, the way he regarded her with cold, indifferent dead eyes, but he had been a force in the fight against the Gnolls, chopping down three of them even after being injured. His body, she observed, was crisscrossed in battle scars, a constellation of wounds, old and fresh, that showed the half-orc’s acquaintance with battle. She absent-mindedly found herself wondering what it would be like to be pinned under his powerful frame, naked, those strong, rough, muscular hands holding her down as he slid his gigantic. . .
“I see you admiring the physique of our barbarian consort” Sammael commented, as he put the final wrapping on her wound. If she distrusted the half-orc, Aurora outright despised the shifty, scruffy human who served as the party’s guide and tracker. Between his cocksure attitude, constant running tongue, and general state of discrepancy, Sammael Hargrove was quickly wearing on her nerves. “I would be wary of what inviting looks you give him. Great Red Plains Tribe warriors are known to claim wives as prowess trophies after a victorious battle.” He gave her a quick raised eyebrow, then a mockingly leering look “He maybe wouldn’t mind showing you how a ‘wild barbarian’ takes a maiden in the night” He smiled, a snakecharmer’s smile “Maybe that’s something they didn’t address in your time at the Order, but if you want me to demonstrate. . .”
Aurora violently pushed Sammeal away from her, clearly aggravated. He absorbed the blow effortlessly into a backwards roll back onto his feet that would have impressed a halfling funambulist. Despite herself, she admired his dexterity, the spry, lithe moments of his body. “I’m sorry Your Dameship” he taunted “perhaps I spoke too true.” He grinned, as he turned to the imposing half-orc “Would you like to introduce her to your, ahem, cultural traditions?”
The half-orc didn’t acknowledge the human, simply continued to prepare his weapons in silence, large, powerful hands working with precision to ensure his equipment was ready.
“Listen, you rotten excuse for a tracker” Aurora felt the rage and mortification rise in her voice “My father is one of the sacred guardians of the AutumnStone, and he would have you smothered in sap, and lashed to a Wandering Oak if he heard one filthy word off your fetid tongue. . .”
“But your father isn’t here, girl” Sammeal riposted “your powerful, important father isn’t anywhere near this lonely excuse for a mountain, and even if he was, I would wonder what he’d say to his disgraced former Paladin of a daughter.”
Aurora felt the sting of the words harder than the arrow that pierced her leg earlier in the day. It was true that her father, Luthais of the Eternals, Seventeenth Warden of Autumngate, Protector of the AutumnStone, would disown his wayward half breed of a daughter now that she’s dishonored herself and his bloodline by being dismissed from the Order. Her mother, Eos, was only his ceremonial human bride, part of the covenant between men and elf to ensure the magic of the AutumnStone remained accessible to all peaceful races, that the lands around it flourished in everlasting bountiful harvest. While she was the only child between Luthais and Eos, she counted in the dozens other half-siblings, both full elf and half, who have gone on to honor and greatness. She, however, had been drummed out of the Order for impurity of mind, body and spirit.
“It’s okay, Aurora” Sammeal hunkered back down next to her by the fire “I didn’t mean anything by it.” He looked at her with his engrossing brown eyes, and gave her a warm, inviting smile “I’m an outcast too, you know. Once one of the Evergreen Corps, five years a full captain, until the senior leadership got tired of my . . . unique problem-solving skills and captivating personality” Aurora, despite herself, smiled at his jest. The former Ranger could be quite charming, the more she thought about it, and underneath that unkempt beard was a handsome man, whose strong yet agile body was right next to hers, there for the taking, to keep her warm on this cold night. She was dimly aware she was only wearing her quilted half gambeson, and that other than her ladyclothes, she was naked from the waist down. It would be nothing to slide aside the ladyclothes, or better still, strip down to nothing, then undress Sammeal, slowly take his leather brais off, stroke his manhood, get him to . . .
“Pinny for your thoughts” Sammeal interrupted her again, a mischievous smile on his lips. Lips, Aurora realized, she wanted to kiss very badly, press against her own, taste, find out if he kisses reserved like Alejandra of the Summer Vale, that night behind the Order’s training armory, or if he kisses passionately like Fina did after their first test as Paladins, in the bed they shared in the inn on their way back, her lips ravenous for more of her. . .
“I just” Aroura started to stammer, trying to shake this strange fog off her mind, trying to figure out what was making her just so suddenly concupiscent, so in need of a man’s attention, or half-orc’s touch. “I just feel so . . . wanton” she finished, feeling her cheeks flush crimson at speaking out loud her feelings of want.
Sammeal smiled, more of a knowing smirk than a full smile. “If I didn’t know better” he mused “I would say it was the Lover’s Leaf talking, Your Dameship.”
Aroura looked at him blankly “Lover’s Leaf?!?”
Sammeal produced a small leather satchel, and rummaged around in it. In a moment, he held up a small, dark green leaf roughly the shape of a heart, the kind a small child would cut out with their nanny while making charades out of cloth. “Lover’s Leaf” he said “is an effective herb for combating the effects of the black serpent poison in your wound.” “However,” here, he gave her an impish grin, “one of the side effects is that it makes the user feel less inhibited and more amorous. It’s called Lover’s Leaf because the local medicine women of the villages would often brew a tea out of it to give to nervous virginal brides before their first joining night” He popped the leaf into his mouth, chewed dramatically and swallowed “Doesn’t taste too bad either” he added.
“You POISONED ME” Aurora felt her mind stagger out of the lull it was lured into thinking of seducing this man, and for a moment, her anger overwhelmed her other emotions “How dare you, you gutless knave!” She reached for her bodkin by her boot, but Sammeal’s quick reflexes allowed him to reach it first, knocking it out of her reach.
“Listen Aurora” he said. He was using every bit of charm and poise to keep his voice steady, but his eyes were darting around the camp to the various weapons scattered around. “The effects of the Lover’s Leaf are temporary, but they’ll quickly cure you of the poison. You need to be alive, and on your feet, to get through Three Daggers Pass, otherwise the Gnolls will get beyond our vantage point, and we’ll have to chase them down the mountainside with no cover from arrowshot. Not to mention if they find reinforcements on the other side of the mountain, it’ll go from a winnable fight to our slaughter.” He spread both hands out empty, a gesture of peace “The leaf doesn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, it just enhances the desire.”
Aurora felt her anger burn deep, hot, then lunged at Sammeal. He didn’t step back from her advance this time, expecting the worse . . . and she kissed him. She kissed him hard, deep, like a woman set free from a lifetime of needing to kiss her lover, she kissed him like a soldier kisses he wife after returning from a long war, she kissed him like a succubus kisses its nightly prey. She held his head in both of her hands and kissed him. The force of their impact knocked both of them to the ground, still kissing, her kissing his neck, and he kissing her neck, kissing down the side of his ear to his neck, kissing old faded scars, and a fresh, pink skin. Her gambeson came off quickly, discarded like her inhibitions. Her delicate breasts exposed to the cold, she felt her pink nipples instantly go hard, sensitive, needed. Under her, Sammeal struggled to get free of his brais, to get his manhood free of the supple leather, to get inside her, to make love to her like nothing else ever before him, even while he was trying to kiss her more, kissing her neck, her left nipple in his mouth like the sweetest of summer plyberries, he could feel the passionate heat from between her legs, he was almost free. . .
A shadow fell across the two frantic lovers, a hulking object blocking the light from the fire and pausing them mid-act. Xor stood above them both, his massive body silhouetted in the firelight. “It is time” he said in his flat voice “time for Xor to show you my people’s ways” as he let the breechcloth loose, and stood naked, his giant, thick cock erect. Aroura gazed upon it in wonder, and longing, her eyes and mind growing large at the possibility of his orcish size and thickness inside her, stretching her out, how it would fill her in ways no other lover ever has.
Sammael saw the look in her eyes, saw the body language of his other companion, and shrugged. He knew when he was outclassed, but also knew that he wasn’t quite out of the fight yet. He lifted up Aurora’s breasts tantalizingly to his companion, an offer of compromise. “It’s the Dameship’s choice, I reck” he said, and looked up at the winsome, wanton half-elf with a smile “Let’s see just where the midnight takes us, friends” and laughed. . . . .
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/eyys6p/preface_on_the_windswept_cliffs_of_cloudlid