Zirnakaynin: Blood and Darkness: The Gladiatrix Saga

Game Master Dragoncat

A campaign set in the drow city of Zirnakaynin, following a band of gladiators as they fight their way to gold, glory and the promise of freedom.

Performance Combat Rules

Anabel: Indifferent
Brevka: Helpful
Kaxatja: Friendly
Lilamma: Friendly
Lyra'an: Helpful


Current Date: Starday, 7th of Sarenith, 4705 AR

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Anabel & Erevas:
Erevas chuckles and puts a hand on your hip, stilling you as he gently pulls out. This time, he bids you stand as he repositions himself, laying on the cot and drawing you atop him so that your flower rests at his lips.

He puts a hand on your seed-stained back and gently pushes, tenderly encouraging you to bend forward and take him into your mouth. His tongue begins to explore you anew, perhaps as incentive.

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Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Brevka chuckled to herself as she heard the furtive moans and groans from within someone's cell. Knowing any signs would be nonsense she didn't stop to see whose door was closed. If that's Baby Blades keeping me waiting though, I'll tan her damned hide.

A sigh of her own escaped Brevka's lips as she found the room that was definitely hers. A crudely taxidermied or transmogrified beast in vaguely the shape of a... Wolf? Took up most of one corner, while a pallet that would leave everything below her knees dangling to the floor took up much of the rest.

She grabbed a cup of cold water that waited on the floor for her. Khtazz's skull had made a worthy vessel, with much more authentic craftsmanship.

She wasn't sure if he was meant to be a warning or a gift. Or since she hadn't been the one to kill him, maybe some kind of mockery?

The water's good anyways...

She needed to move. She didn't have to be in this cell, so she wasn't going to stay.

She found the nearest guard, standing a little too close as she been down to ask in carefully pronounced Tradetongue, "The pale one with the knives and me are going to the baths. Your mistress said we could have an Acolyte. Send a pretty one?"


The guard you find is a twitchy one--his eyes are darting about as if he's worried his own shadow will leap out and try to stab him. When you loom over him, he briefly recoils before forcing himself to stand firm.

"...very well." He grumbles before walking off.

He mutters something in his mother tongue that you don't understand.

Several minutes pass before an acolyte arrives before the bathhouse doors. Her white robes are absolutely spotless, and the holy symbol around her neck appears to have been recently polished. Her long silvery-white hair falls to the middle of her back and her cold white eyes bore into yours as she waits. Her stoic, professional expression is difficult to read.

"Princess Brevka." She says, her tone composed and clear.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Brevka bared her tusks in a wide grin, a pair of loose towels providing some modesty as she sat on an ornate stone bench, powerful legs splayed to either side. "That's what they cheer. Do you have a name? If I keep winning I'll need to know who to call on. Pleasing me could change that. Displeasing me could too. So let's keep it pleasant for both of us Acolyte..?"


"You may address me as Nathrae. Nathrae Khalazza." Acolyte Nathrae briefly glances between your legs before looking you in the eye again. Her expression doesn't change.

"Which bath were you interested in? The gladiatorial bathhouse has three separate baths on offer--the Frigidarium, the Tepidarium and the Caldarium, in ascending order of temperatures."

Anabel and Erevas:
Anabel lets Erevas guide her downward. Even as he stimulates her, she returns the favor, gently licking and teasing with her tongue.

Female Neutral Drider HP 11/11 | AC: 14/T 12/ FF 13 | Fort: +3; Ref: +1; Will: +5 | Init: +2 | Per +6 ; SM: +2 | Spd 40 ft. , Climb 20 ft.| CMB: +2 CMD 13 (+25 vs. trip) | Darkvision 60ft | Performance Combat +6

Kaxatja suppresses a shudder as Nurgal's favor cascades over her. Not for fear, or hate, just...strangeness. Then again, all strangeness is her usual accompaniment. She moves off toward the gladiator's personal quarters in a slight daze, unsure that this still not a dream.

The sights and sounds of battle have dimmed from her mind, and a fleeting memory of running through caverns subsumes her, causing her to falter - she rests against a solid wall, looking about furtively to see no one sees her. Regaining her composure Kaxatja bows low to enter her spartan chamber. A nest of silken ropes and leather-wrapped chains depends from the ceiling, a mockery of a spider's web. With much effort and a little scrambling the drider makes her way up and in before tucking her legs in tight, lying back and crying herself to welcome sleep.

Female Tiefling (Kiton Born) Skald 1 Init +2 Hp 10/10 AC 17 T 14 FF 15 Fort +4 Ref +2 Will +1 Spd 30 DR 2/Silver Perc +3 Pic

Lilamma was strangely keeping to herself, and walked to the baths.

She pondered which one, the warmest or the coldest, would be the most painful.

So she decided to try both alternatively, and to see how long she can suffer the temperature.

Maybe she could try to see how long she could held her breath underwater?

Anabel & Erevas:
You feel Erevas' tongue briefly touch your clit before he comes up for air.

"Deeper... please..." He moans before delving back into you, two of his fingers joining his tongue inside you and his free hand caressing your back.


As you approach the baths, you notice Brevka sitting in the hall outside the bathing chambers. There's a drow priestess standing across from her and they appear to be conversing.

After pondering on which bath will result in the most pain for you, it occurs to you that your kyton-spawn blood provides you with resistance to heat and cold temperatures. Holding your breath might be more effective in inflicting the pain you crave.

As you start to drift off to sleep, you notice the smaller form of Kamala lingering in your doorway.

She bows her head in sympathy before politely retreating to let you have what privacy you can.

Anabel and Erevas:
The shaman complies, taking him fully into her mouth and rhythmically bobbing her head up and down.

Anabel & Erevas:
Your efforts are rewarded with a sharp moan from your partner and a third finger sliding into you. You feel Erevas' muscles tensing up again, his tongue spelling out letters on your nub.

Several strokes of his tongue and fingers later, a deep, blissful heat floods your body...

...and you feel his member twitch and pulse, pumping warm, thick seed into your mouth.

Anabel and Erevas:
Anabel swallows the sticky liquid, even as her own secondary climax fills her with warmth. Eventually, she disengages, turning around to lay against Erevas with her head on his chest.

Anabel & Erevas:
Now thoroughly spent, Erevas doesn't object to you resting your head on his chest.

"...who knows how long this is going to last..."

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Anabel and Erevas:
"Let us not worry about that. Let us just focus on here and now..."

Anabel & Erevas:
"...yes..." Erevas breathes.

Then he chuckles. "...uh, I, um... seem to have made a bit of a mess."

Anabel and Erevas:
"Well, we ought to get cleaned up then. Care for a bath?"

Anabel & Erevas:
"That sounds wonderful." Erevas grins and starts to get up. He helps you back into your loincloth and breast band before seeing to his own garb.


Once you're both clothed, Erevas takes you by the hand and begins to lead the way east, towards the baths. "They have three different temperatures--a cold-water bath, a hot-water bath and one that's in between the two--"

He freezes when he goes through the painted-gold doors, his expression turning pale. Brevka is sitting on a nearby ornate stone bench, conversing with a drow acolyte of Nurgal. Lilamma is standing between the three bathing chambers as if she's considering which one to use.

Erevas' gaze is on Brevka. His hand starts shaking anew in yours.

Female Fetchling Knifemaster 1 | HP 10/10 | AC 16 (14), T 14 (12), FF 12(10) | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4, Will +0 | Init +10 | Perc +4 | SA +1d8

The warmth she could deal with, but the worst part of the ceremony was the thrice-damned light, reminiscent of the hated sun, she'd experienced above ground once. The pale woman squeezes her eyes shut, unable to open them until the worst of the glow had faded accepting the blessing with a slightly disoriented nod.

Brevka, Princess of the North wrote:

"Don't think you're skipping out just cause you don't have to shake all that in a barrel of sand. Grab a strigil, I'll meet you at the baths."

Unfortunately, she didn't know the layout that well, and the signs were in gibberish... "Where the Hells am I going..?"

Lyra'an can't help the hint of a smile that spreads across her lips as Brevka holds her to their bet. The emerald warrior's commanding presence was a bit of a thrill she had to admit, as was watching her in battle. "Alright, I'll be there." she replies, her voice holding a tinge of curiosity.

Once her vision clears enough to trust walking through the tunnels, she makes her way back to the Ludus, following the signs toward the baths. Picking up the drow language had served her well in her time in the brothel, and continued to do so now.

As she walks down the halls, a smile comes to her lips as she hears muffled sounds of passion, something she was quite used to, though it never failed to get her blood pumping. Smiling to herself, she takes a strigil, from the array of them waiting at the entrance to the baths, coming to a halt as she enters to see Brevka in all her glory with a lovely acolyte standing before her. "Am I interrupting?" she asks with a grin.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Brevka beckons Lyra'an in with a negligent hand, and a toothy grin. "Not at all. This is Nathrae the acolyte. The arms and armor are getting cleaned and sharpened somewhere else, so you're here to clean and prepare me."

She stood slowly, handing her towels to Nathrae, "You," she said to the drow, "are going to make sure she does it well."

Anabel can feel Erevas's terror, but it seems that Brevka is thoroughly distracted. She tugs on the other elf's hand to draw him away. "What happens in the arena should stay in the arena. We were all forced to fight. I am sure she bears you no ill will. Come, let us bathe and take your mind off of unpleasant memories."

She leads Erevas towards the Tepidarium.

Brevka & Lyra'an

Nathrae takes Brevka's towels and looks Lyra'an over. "Oh, is that all?" Her tone remains composed. "No whipping or anything like that?"

"You still haven't told me which bath you want."

The Tepidarium is a large, rectangular stone chamber with a sizeable oval-shaped pool of water in the centre. Some bathing supplies are on the nearby wall as you enter.

The water itself is deep enough to come up to your chest.

Erevas takes a few supplies for himself and begins washing himself without another word, still visibly shaken.

Anabel washes herself swiftly, then crosses the pool to stand kneel behind Erevas. She assists in his bath, then probes at his injuries to see if they were tended to properly, doing what she can to help ease his pain.

Once finished, she starts to massage his shoulders to relieve the tension there. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks.

Heal: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28


Erevas' injuries appear to have been healed with a few applications of healing magic, but nothing else. There's no visible scarring--you'd have known by now--but from the way he winces as he touches the spot on his chest where Brevka struck him, said healing magic didn't heal the underlying muscle pain and tenderness.

There's a lot of tension in his shoulders, as you can clearly feel. His shaking gradually eases as you rub it away, starting with his shoulders and then turning him over to massage his chest.

Anabel wrote:
"Do you want to talk about it?"

The elf is silent for a few moments.

"...I could hear everything after I went down. Heard her roaring, heard Avaxa raging. And the drow didn't care--people fighting for their lives in panic and anger amused them." He sighs. "I don't know how they can be so cruel..."

Anabel continues to work out the knots in Erevas's muscles. "The drow have languished in darkness for far too long. It is all they know. That is why I have come to bring the light. We must be strong and show them there is a better path than delighting in depravity."

Female Neutral Drider HP 11/11 | AC: 14/T 12/ FF 13 | Fort: +3; Ref: +1; Will: +5 | Init: +2 | Per +6 ; SM: +2 | Spd 40 ft. , Climb 20 ft.| CMB: +2 CMD 13 (+25 vs. trip) | Darkvision 60ft | Performance Combat +6

Kaxatja’s misery is somewhat softened by Kamala’s presence, mixed with no small amount of surprise.

Defeated, and bereft of her holy symbol...


Erevas can't help but chuckle again. "I think Nurgal provides them with too much light as it is."

He sighs as you work a knot out in his lower back. "You've a long road ahead of you. Those in power will do anything to keep it."

"Nurgal's light is a corruption, burning those who look upon it. The light of the Shin'Rakorath is pure and soothing, the kind that banishes shadows and brings comfort and warmth. I know my task will not be easy, but it is the cause I have chosen." Anabel's voice is full of conviction.


Erevas relaxes fully before his hands slide up your arms. "I think it's my turn to see to you now..."

He gently clasps your arms and sits up, turning you around so he can start rubbing your own shoulders.

Anabel doesn't protest, allowing Erevas to turn her around. She closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Breaks shrugs elaborately, "There hasn't been any need to whip you, Nathrae. Unless you've failed me and your mistress in some way you should tell me. I'll have what's left of the oil off first, then the... Caldarum. We can finish with a cold plunge later."

Brevka & Lyra'an

Nathrae gives the half-orc an irritated look. "That's not what I..."

She sighs. "...never mind. Tepidarium first, then Caldarium and Frigidarium then. The usual bathing cycle."

The drow walks over to the Tepidarium door and pushes it open.

Erevas doesn't seem to have noticed the Tepidarium's door opening. He's content to hold you close to him at the far side of the pool.

Female Fetchling Knifemaster 1 | HP 10/10 | AC 16 (14), T 14 (12), FF 12(10) | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4, Will +0 | Init +10 | Perc +4 | SA +1d8

Her eyes running along the entirely of Brevka's form before flicking over to Nathrae, Lyra'an feels her pulse quicken. There was something in the half orc's tone of voice and choice of words that had her biting her lip.

There was definitely something about commanding women that got her juices flowing. Raising an eyebrow as the acolyte speaks of whippings, she laughs softly as Brevka teases her.

"As you command Princess. she says with a coy smile, leading the way into the tepidarium and entering, awaiting Brevka's entry.

Anabel hears the door open, but she keeps her eyes closed, just enjoying being touched.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

For a moment when Nathrae wasn't looking and Lyra'an couldn't see her face, Brevka let the cocky smirk of her Princess Face drop into a small, cold smile.
Better to make up your own rules than ask. I'll just have to see how far Nathrae will bend. More winning means more leverage, but I'll wager I did good enough impressing her mistress today that serving Baby Blades to serve me isn't all I'll be able to get from her.

Brevka sauntered into the room, feet slapping loudly against the damp floor, and peered through the slight mist of the room until she was certain of who Anabel was with.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised that Trembles is avoiding the cold. Or is his wound still bothering him, Runt? You got him in here on healer's orders?"

She sat down to dangle her legs in the pool and gestured to Nathrae to help Lyra'an get started. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her thighs and tucked her shoulders to present her bath attendants with her broad, well-muscled back while she awaited what she expected would amount to a lot of sputtering.

The little one'll get herself killed if she ties herself to someone that weak.

Anabel opens her eyes to regard Brevka with a neutral expression. "I am providing succor for his body and spirit. We have sought comfort in one another, a small bit of relief in an unpleasant situation. Surely you can understand?"

Female Tiefling (Kiton Born) Skald 1 Init +2 Hp 10/10 AC 17 T 14 FF 15 Fort +4 Ref +2 Will +1 Spd 30 DR 2/Silver Perc +3 Pic

After her attempts at drow-ning herself.. errr... after her bath, Lilamma gets out of the water and seeks her team.

Nevertheless, the scarred woman keeps her eyes open for anything that could be used as a weapon, or any attempt of an ambush, someone who would like to settle a score or get an advantage by beating a future opponent into a bloody mess before meeting in the arena.

Hey, a girl can dream and hope!

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

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Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

For the first time, Brevka wished she hadn't brought Nathrae along. Even if it was smart to assume you were always being heard, there was a big difference between 'what's the worst that could happen if they are listening' and 'let me explain to you how immortal beings of cruelty like to torment you with the things that bring you relief and peace, while one of them is sitting here, probably hoping for some petty act of vengeance for being used as a backup bath slave.'

Their coupling didn't bother her. Even before the strangeness of the First World she hadn't been prudish about finding 'succor' of her own. Nights could be long; lives were short. She just made sure to keep her belly flat so she didn't have to spend any months away from the song of blood and battles, and there were plenty of ways to-

Damnit. I went away again. Damn place has me all misted over in memories.

"Do what you like, Runt. Just don't kid yourself that he's anything special. There's a lot of other elves on the quiver."

Bluff to send a message: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15 'Don't let them see that you care' Also, +4 on the check if Anabel is or could be attracted to Brevka

With an irritated toss of her hair she shot a glower over her shoulder at Lyra'an and Nathrae. "Just gonna stand there staring? Get this oil off, I'm ready for the water. And you," she shot at Nathrae, "You're supposed to be teaching her to do this properly. When I'm on the sands your mistress doesn't want any hair below my eyebrows. Why haven't you already gotten that alchemical s&%!, the hair-burner? You're here as an Acolyte of Nurgal, not just to sneak a peek, right? Is this what you call obedience to your mistress?"

Anabel stares at Brevka for a few moments longer, taking in the half-orc's fierce beauty. She nods slightly and closes her eyes again.

Message received. And yes, you get the bonus. ;)

Female Fetchling Knifemaster 1 | HP 10/10 | AC 16 (14), T 14 (12), FF 12(10) | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4, Will +0 | Init +10 | Perc +4 | SA +1d8

While the staring was definitely good, Lyra'an took her cue to step forward after shedding her own breast band and loincloth, her pale skin almost luminous in the dim light, shadows alternately enveloping and revealing her sensuous form as she moves to kneel behind Brevka, beginning to follow the contours of the sleekly corded muscles of the half orc's neck and shoulders, scraping away the sweat and sand of the day's exertion.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

The barely gentle enough scrape of the strigil along her back was Wonderful. A contented sigh hissed out of her, sharpening when Lyra'an's tool caught on a ridge of scar tissue, one of the marks that detailed her mother's lineage. "Nnngh. Watch it Baby Blades. If you end up winning one of these, wouldn't you rather I was nice to you?"

It'd be good to have a way to get the Acolyte out of here...

Is there anything that was strictly forbidden in our earlier training that's now just slap-on-the-wrist contraband?

GM Rolls:
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

Erevas flinches when Brevka speaks up, but appears to have missed the subtext in her taunts.

Fortunately, it appears Nathrae has as well. She fixes Brevka with a stony stare before wrinkling her nose. "...as you wish."

She gets up from her spot and walks off, returning with a bottle of the aforementioned alchemical fluid, a towel and a dagger. She starts carefully shaving the half-orc's legs, arms and intimate bits with a practiced ease, dipping the dagger in the hair-removal fluid and running it along her skin.

She hasn't changed out of her robe yet.

Erevas starts tugging on Anabel's hand. "...we should leave."

@Brevka: Alchemist's fire, acid, magical healing services not provided by Nurgal and thieves' tools are all contraband.

Female Neutral Drider HP 11/11 | AC: 14/T 12/ FF 13 | Fort: +3; Ref: +1; Will: +5 | Init: +2 | Per +6 ; SM: +2 | Spd 40 ft. , Climb 20 ft.| CMB: +2 CMD 13 (+25 vs. trip) | Darkvision 60ft | Performance Combat +6



The crashing of the roiling waves of stone dust and earth against the hold were nightmarish, but she held tight, each of her legs pushed out as far as they could against the walls. Each new smashing reverberation seemed to be stronger than the last, and she knew that if the walls were torn asunder the hated light would enter. Light that would shine. Light that would burn, and expose her. Reveal who she was...

Who was she. What was she. More importantly where was she and what was happening? How did she get here? Too fast to dodge, a spear of diamond sharp rock thrust out of one wall, then another, and another, each piercing her abdomen, then her thorax and distended cephalothorax. She had no time to scream, only to....


... Kaxatja jerked upright, the pain of her recent trident-wound still real to her body-memory. Magic might take away the hurt and heal the wound but the pain was still real. In her mind. And in her mind there was Niletha’s face. Angular and strong. Wise and knowing. But not cruel enough for House Parastric. What had they done to her? What fate could they have meted out - surely no worse than what they had done to Kaxatja. Kaxatja. “Cast-out”. She had had another name. But it eluded her.

The drider curled up again in her makeshift nest and went back to sleep.

"Alright," Anabel says. She lets Erevas lead her out of the baths.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Anything more leisure oriented?

Female Fetchling Knifemaster 1 | HP 10/10 | AC 16 (14), T 14 (12), FF 12(10) | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4, Will +0 | Init +10 | Perc +4 | SA +1d8


"Sorry," Lyra'an says softly, her touch becoming gentler while still effective, gliding effortlessly over Brevka's emerald skin, following every detail and contour as she works on first her back all the way down to her chiseled backside, along her arms before moving around to the front while still on her knees.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Basically I'm looking for something that would be a pushy, grey-dark grey area request, but not anything that's actually oriented towards violence/breaking out. So, drugs, fancy booze, even cards or dice or other less illicit but still disallowed items. That kinda thing. Plot-critical contraband can come later ;-)
Oh! Or actually, how kosher is unauthorized 'fraternization' in the first place?

Brevka: Cards and dice are permitted. Fancy alcohol is harder to come by, and drugs are prohibited except in cases of medical necessity.

Incidentally, unauthorized 'fraternization' between gladiators is allowed as long as disease doesn't spread or pregnancies occur. Between guards or priestly personnel is frowned upon, but no one really enforces any punishment unless violence breaks out.


Your efforts to find some means of self-harm lead you to the dining hall. The meal currently being served is a boiled cave fisher with a side of mushroom stew--and it's served with full utensil complement of knife, fork and spoon.

Female Half-Orc Primal Spelleater 1 | HP 14/14(16) | AC 15 (13), T 11 (9), FF 14 | CMD 17 | Fort +7(9), Ref +3, Will +4(6) | Init +1 | Perc +0 | SM +0 | Performance Combat +5 | Rage Rounds 7/7

Brevka let out a quiet groan of approval as Lyra'an's efforts gradually removed her tension along with the last of the oils. Nathrae hadn't pleased her quite as much, and before Brevka fully thought it through, she'd darted her hand out to snatch Nathrae's wrist in a grip not quite tight enough to be painful as she brought her blade closer to Brevka's cleft. "My loincloth covers that. Your mistresses commands don't cover it, and I don't want to be elf-smooth everywhere. You can give me a trim though, if you want. It's careful work, so I shouldn't leave it to the attendant you're training."

Brevka's eyes were still glinting with a note of amusement as Nathrae finished up what she would, and Lyra'an slid gently around to her front. She didn't normally go for pale, even the human she'd bedded had been darker by far than Lyra'an, his skin a raw umber that she couldn't help but pick out from among the trading caravan of desperate fools and hardened survivors that had made the journey across the Hold of Belkzen. Her father, another 'adventurer' who'd passed through was supposed to have had skin like that, though thankfully the cold-eyed boy she'd wrestled with was far too young to be him. Who needed that kind of curse?

He'd been the prettiest human she'd ever seen, though admittedly not many passed through the Gutspears' lands. Trust the drow to try their hardest to find the best though, she mused, casting her eye over Lyra'an as she knelt before her, pale flesh emerging from beneath the waterfall of her inky black hair, If Ulzeni had had an ass like that, I'd have never let him leave.

"I'm ready for the pool. You can go," she rumbled to Nathrae, "I'll send Baby Blades to find you when you're needed for more tutoring. Your service isn't done though. While you're gone, find something celebratory and tasty for us. You'll be sharing in it too, so make sure it's something worthy, and we all profit."

Brevka & Lyra'an

Nathrae looks between you and the pale-skinned gladiatrix before stiffly nodding once. "Very well."

She turns and leaves the bathing chamber, her hand briefly clenching before relaxing.


As you start awake from your sleep, you see the smaller form of Kamala in your doorway again.

"...your dreams plague you." She says, making no move to enter your cell.

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