The Demons of Watchwood Forest 2

[Blaze]

James did manage to get some sleep, keeping one eye open in case the merchants tried to leave him to the foul spawn of the forests. Upon being shaken, he immediately sits up, totally alert.

"Mmm. Right. Let's go."

[Harri-chan]

Ginny didn't resist being pulled closer, shivering as the arms came around her to hold her in place. She softly suckled upon the lower lip of the red-haired woman, her hands brushing down, over her shoulders and arms, gently grasping the red silk of her dress as she went through the odd experience of feeling like something was being taken away. However, the rub of the woman's breasts against her chest provided enough of a distraction for her. She murmured, her thumbs brushing the silken material as she enjoyed the kiss.

[Vomica]

Ovvar raises his eye brows in slight concern, "...either because the threat is too much for the existing forces to handle..." He pauses, then lowers his voice "...or the trouble is internal... ...and outsiders are better to trust..."

[Blindsense]

Gol nods. "Aye that it is. One thing this blasted district got right. 'Course it was built back at tha foundin. Overwatch people hadnt the time to get soft yet." He strides forward, past the statues flanking the entrance... they are of warriors of Watchwood's history. Names famous not only in local history, but all across the empire. It seems at least once a generation a warrior would emerge from the Watchwoods to go on to do great and amazing things. Leaders of armies... solitary wanderers... famous duelists... Watchwood had produced all kinds.

Oddly, the oldest statue is nothing but an empty plinth. And unlike at the rest of the statues, the brazier at this one lies cold and unlit. Gol regards it with more than usual disdain, muttering something dark. The Arena itself is spartan, like most things of Watchwood. Sturdy but graceful stone arches rising in a ring until they tower above the rooftops. Torches mounted in the arches, now unlit, but ready to light the Arena in darkness.

Nergal silently examines the empty podium, searching for an inscription, or an insignia, or... Anything. Clearly, there was a reason this statue had been removed. "Forgive a foolish traveler's curiosity, Gol... But why is this podium empty?"

[Knight Errant]

James did manage to get some sleep, keeping one eye open in case the merchants tried to leave him to the foul spawn of the forests. Upon being shaken, he immediately sits up, totally alert.

"Mmm. Right. Let's go."

"Blackstone should be less than a daylight's journey from here... but still, never hurts to head out early. Doubt ya will be wantin a second night out inna Watchwoods, eh?" The tone seems friendly enough... but there is a subtle ugring beneath it. That he didnt want to find himself in these woods... at night or at any time.

Ginny didn't resist being pulled closer, shivering as the arms came around her to hold her in place. She softly suckled upon the lower lip of the red-haired woman, her hands brushing down, over her shoulders and arms, gently grasping the red silk of her dress as she went through the odd experience of feeling like something was being taken away. However, the rub of the woman's breasts against her chest provided enough of a distraction for her. She murmured, her thumbs brushing the silken material as she enjoyed the kiss.

The two women make out for some time... the feeling that something is off intensifies... but so does the beauty and irrisistibility of the woman who's arms are around her. She dosent let up with her caresses... the rubbing of her growing breasts against Ginny's shrinking ones feeling almost too good to stand. Finally after what seems like forever she pulls away slightly. Looking down on the young girl in her arms with a wicked smile.

She is bending down now... it would be the only way to keep her arms around the former paladin. As such Ginny can see quite a bit of her cleavage... which is voluptuous almost to the point of being too much of a good thing. Ginny herself is now a young girl... around six or seven. Her dress shrinking into a more covering one cut for a young lady. All traces of her feminine curves seemingly siphoned into the demoness in front of her. "Mmmm... your essence tastes delicious..." She comments. Her voice losing a bit of its seductive qualities on the young girl... but instead increasing in tones of firmness... making her unconsciously afraid to disobey.

Ovvar raises his eye brows in slight concern, "...either because the threat is too much for the existing forces to handle..." He pauses, then lowers his voice "...or the trouble is internal... ...and outsiders are better to trust..."

The Man retains his look of amusement. "Close... the trouble is internal... from external sources. The youngest Arleigh faced a choice... the Church was preparing for a Crusade against the Watchwoods. They havent taken kindly to our ways... the balance we keep. They call it blasphemous." At that he turns and spits. "Thats what I think about that. The Church has its right to tout its ways if it likes. But when it pushes it on people with the threat of the sword than it loses its message."

He humphs, then continues. "Anyways... Arleigh outs the Soul Killers... tells the people to stop paying respect to the spirits. All in mind to keep the Church from his doorstep. I understand his position... if not agreeing with it. He made friends with a power far removed from Watchwood... while making enemies of the spirits close at hand. What you see are the results." He spreads his hands to the Arena. "Souls attacking the living... the Church happy but doing little to aid us... the people hating their own king... and young Arleigh turning to the empire for help. You 'heroes' are his last resort..."

Nergal silently examines the empty podium, searching for an inscription, or an insignia, or... Anything. Clearly, there was a reason this statue had been removed. "Forgive a foolish traveler's curiosity, Gol... But why is this podium empty?"

Gol glances back. "Tis a place which once honored Veigar Shadowhand. Right hand of Arleigh the First and founder o' tha Soul Killer Knights. Also served as a place for tha Nobles ta make tributes to tha Spirits o' Overwatch. Just the latest sign O' Arleigh's unworthy descendant's madness."

He tromps forward, reaching into his patchwork coat and taking out a small vial. Pouring it over the cold, half-burnt wood in the Brazier he lights a match... tossing it in. He then kneels with his hammer, bowing his head and muttering. Nergal can barely make out the words: "For tha honor o' tha spirits of Hammer Hill an tha forgotten spirits a Overwatch. Guard my back, give strength to my arm, an guide my Hammer."

This display causes quite a bit of muttering among the locals. And a guard who looks almost about to intervene until he spots the size of the hammer Gol hefts back onto his shoulder. Looking back to Nergal. "You ready ta stop wastin time?"

[Blaze]

Even if he hadn't overheard the conversation last night, James would have caught the urging. He picks up his cloak and puts it on before nodding.

"Let's get going."

[Harri-chan]

Ginny held onto the woman's dress for the duration of the kiss, a slight frown creasing her brow at how the woman's lips felt so much larger than her own by the end of it. Opening her eyes was almost like waking from a dream, her eyelids heavy, with everything a little hazy at first. The first thing she noticed was how the woman was smiling down at her, and she blushed at the way her breasts were nearly spilling out of her red dress from bending over. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised what had happened, but her attempt at backing away was cut short by the arms that held her easily. Her blue eyes were wide, her face a mask of shame and jealously as she squirmed against the now much larger woman. "Noo... ", she moaned, squirming slightly, before that voice reached her ears again. She looked suprised to hear the changes, which quickly turned to worry as she considered the implications. "I thought we... I thought you... ".

[Blindsense]

Gol glances back. "Tis a place which once honored Veigar Shadowhand. Right hand of Arleigh the First and founder o' tha Soul Killer Knights. Also served as a place for tha Nobles ta make tributes to tha Spirits o' Overwatch. Just the latest sign O' Arleigh's unworthy descendant's madness."

He tromps forward, reaching into his patchwork coat and taking out a small vial. Pouring it over the cold, half-burnt wood in the Brazier he lights a match... tossing it in. He then kneels with his hammer, bowing his head and muttering. Nergal can barely make out the words: "For tha honor o' tha spirits of Hammer Hill an tha forgotten spirits a Overwatch. Guard my back, give strength to my arm, an guide my Hammer."

This display causes quite a bit of muttering among the locals. And a guard who looks almost about to intervene until he spots the size of the hammer Gol hefts back onto his shoulder. Looking back to Nergal. "You ready ta stop wastin time?"

Nergal arches an eyebrow. "...Yes, I believe so. That's an interesting story indeed - I'd like to hear more about it sometime." He glances at one of the guards - rather pleased that his distinguished company made him appear less conspicuous. "Let's move on. I feel we are... Not welcome here."

[Knight Errant]

Even if he hadn't overheard the conversation last night, James would have caught the urging. He picks up his cloak and puts it on before nodding.

"Let's get going."

The man nods, the group of them moving onwards. The morning is bright, the mist curling around the tree trunks. In front and behind the Wardens walk... wary even in the light of day.

Ginny held onto the woman's dress for the duration of the kiss, a slight frown creasing her brow at how the woman's lips felt so much larger than her own by the end of it. Opening her eyes was almost like waking from a dream, her eyelids heavy, with everything a little hazy at first. The first thing she noticed was how the woman was smiling down at her, and she blushed at the way her breasts were nearly spilling out of her red dress from bending over. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised what had happened, but her attempt at backing away was cut short by the arms that held her easily. Her blue eyes were wide, her face a mask of shame and jealously as she squirmed against the now much larger woman. "Noo... ", she moaned, squirming slightly, before that voice reached her ears again. She looked suprised to hear the changes, which quickly turned to worry as she considered the implications. "I thought we... I thought you... ".

"What, little Paladin... what did you think? That we were to be lovers? That I would be your forbidden consort? Mmm... while the thought is attractive... I prefer the dominant role in a relationship." She squeezes Ginny into a little hug, pressing the young girl against her ample chest.

"You are mine... body and soul. For now I prefer you this way... Do you understand" Her voice gets an edge to it. "I am your mistress... your goal is to please me. If you serve me well... I may give you your age back so we can have a bit of fun..."

Nergal arches an eyebrow. "...Yes, I believe so. That's an interesting story indeed - I'd like to hear more about it sometime." He glances at one of the guards - rather pleased that his distinguished company made him appear less conspicuous. "Let's move on. I feel we are... Not welcome here."

Gol humphs, walking into the Arena and over to a long line of booths built into the wall. He heads over to the nearest, the man behind it looking a bit nervous, but ready with his pen. "And you are here for..." He begins.

"To fight!" Proclaims Gol. "I am going on tha quest ta save everyone an all that rot." The man nods. "Name...?" Gol rolls his eyes. "Gol Bloodhammer!" The man writes this down, then points to a door to the right. "Through there, sir."

[Harri-chan]

Ginny let out a little gasp as the strong arms of the woman pulled her closer, as with her bending down, it meant the young blonde girl's face were smothered by her large breasts. A shiver ran down her spine at the commanding tone of her new Mistress' voice, and blushing brightly, she nodded her head, "I... understand... ", she murmured. Looking down slightly, she winced as she examined her six year old body in the simple white cloth dress, before peering up at the now gorgeous, curvy red-haired woman. "How am I going to be any use like this?", she asked, both sounding and looking confused.

[Blaze]

James kept his hands on his knives, his eyes flicking left to right in anticipation of an attack.

[Vomica]

The Man retains his look of amusement. "Close... the trouble is internal... from external sources. The youngest Arleigh faced a choice... the Church was preparing for a Crusade against the Watchwoods. They havent taken kindly to our ways... the balance we keep. They call it blasphemous." At that he turns and spits. "Thats what I think about that. The Church has its right to tout its ways if it likes. But when it pushes it on people with the threat of the sword than it loses its message."

He humphs, then continues. "Anyways... Arleigh outs the Soul Killers... tells the people to stop paying respect to the spirits. All in mind to keep the Church from his doorstep. I understand his position... if not agreeing with it. He made friends with a power far removed from Watchwood... while making enemies of the spirits close at hand. What you see are the results." He spreads his hands to the Arena. "Souls attacking the living... the Church happy but doing little to aid us... the people hating their own king... and young Arleigh turning to the empire for help. You 'heroes' are his last resort..."

Ovvar makes himself comfortable, and with his head angled slightly, he listens to the man speak. Upon the spit, he murmurs "...traditional practices are often in place for reasons of import..." He nods at each point, then slowly begins to tilt his head. Putting a hand on the brim of his hat so it doesn't blow a way, he responds "...Soul Killers...?" Looking up at the Arena, and then back to the man "...it sounds like Arleigh has burned all his bridges..." Stopping again, Ovvar scans the street, "...but is it wise to speak so openly of these things? Blasphemy, treason..."

[Blindsense]

Gol humphs, walking into the Arena and over to a long line of booths built into the wall. He heads over to the nearest, the man behind it looking a bit nervous, but ready with his pen. "And you are here for..." He begins.

"To fight!" Proclaims Gol. "I am going on tha quest ta save everyone an all that rot." The man nods. "Name...?" Gol rolls his eyes. "Gol Bloodhammer!" The man writes this down, then points to a door to the right. "Through there, sir."

"Ah, yes... Mr. Bloodhammer?" Nergal places a hand on the man's shoulder to stop him for a moment. "Would you think it wise that I participate as well? I do wish to enjoy myself a little during my stay here... And if you'd like, I could scout the competition for you during my fights. You would find that I have some rather useful talents in that regard..." By Nergal's logic, fighting under the banner of a man such as Bloodhammer would paint him as a simple lacky - the perfect cover for any snooping he wished to do while he was here. Besides, he wasn't lying about the first part - he really -did- want to flex the old arcane muscles a bit, so to speak.

[Knight Errant]

Ginny let out a little gasp as the strong arms of the woman pulled her closer, as with her bending down, it meant the young blonde girl's face were smothered by her large breasts. A shiver ran down her spine at the commanding tone of her new Mistress' voice, and blushing brightly, she nodded her head, "I... understand... ", she murmured. Looking down slightly, she winced as she examined her six year old body in the simple white cloth dress, before peering up at the now gorgeous, curvy red-haired woman. "How am I going to be any use like this?", she asked, both sounding and looking confused.

The woman smiles mischievously at the question. "We will be going back to Overwatch. Little girls are hardly noticed... you will help me infiltrate the castle." She strokes Ginny's hair lightly, sending more shivers down her spine no doubt... but of a different kind.

"We will set out in the morning... it shouldn't take too long to make it back to the city..."

James kept his hands on his knives, his eyes flicking left to right in anticipation of an attack.

The trip is uneventfully peaceful... at lunch they build a campfire and begin roasting sausages. While eating James feels a tap on his shoulder. Behind him stands one of the Wardens. One who hasnt talked during the entire trip. He is old, his wrinkled face clean shaven... wise and strong and hard... but he has pity in his eyes. He speaks with an odd accent. "Ye boy. There is a place close at hand... tis a place might interest one on a quest the likes of which you be."

He points to a trail south of the crossroads they are camped at. The trail looks to have been once wide and often used, now neglected. The cobblestones being swallowed by weeds and grass. The rest of the Wardens go quiet as the old one begins speaking... the one from last night shooting a sharp look as he suggests the old road.

Ovvar makes himself comfortable, and with his head angled slightly, he listens to the man speak. Upon the spit, he murmurs "...traditional practices are often in place for reasons of import..." He nods at each point, then slowly begins to tilt his head. Putting a hand on the brim of his hat so it doesn't blow a way, he responds "...Soul Killers...?" Looking up at the Arena, and then back to the man "...it sounds like Arleigh has burned all his bridges..." Stopping again, Ovvar scans the street, "...but is it wise to speak so openly of these things? Blasphemy, treason..."

The old man smiles. "No one listens to an old man's ramblings." The small square with the fountain seems oddly empty. He sees one person walk across the square... glance at the old man... and turn around and head back the way they came.

"Ah, yes... Mr. Bloodhammer?" Nergal places a hand on the man's shoulder to stop him for a moment. "Would you think it wise that I participate as well? I do wish to enjoy myself a little during my stay here... And if you'd like, I could scout the competition for you during my fights. You would find that I have some rather useful talents in that regard..." By Nergal's logic, fighting under the banner of a man such as Bloodhammer would paint him as a simple lacky - the perfect cover for any snooping he wished to do while he was here. Besides, he wasn't lying about the first part - he really -did- want to flex the old arcane muscles a bit, so to speak.

Gol turns around. "You want ta fight fer me, eh?" He looks over Nergal... then shrugs. "Thats up ta you. Dont be expectin me ta save yer hide, though."

The clerk at the window looks up. "So... what should I put you down as?"

[Harri-chan]

The little Paladin murmured as the woman stroked her blonde hair. Turning her head a little, she rested her head against the curve of the woman's breasts, where both the cool silk and warm flesh was against her cheek. Everything felt different, but also the same. She felt no more lust, but she was still helpless to resist the wishes of the Demon. "Yes, Mistress... ", she replied in a meek little voice. She still KNEW this woman was evil, but her voice, her touch, even her smell, made Ginny feel safe, comforted... and obedient. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around the Demon Woman while she was still bent down to Ginny's level, and hugged her.