Re: Through the Mists: In Character
DM
Master Bedroom
Tag: Rovana
Done with talking for the night, Rovana regained the master bedroom and soon fell into an uneasy sleep after having a half dream about the alluring, yet deadly Ludmilla. Though the fear that she struggled with internally - the one she denied quite vehemently existed to others that she had met - was ever present, the exhaustion of the fight against the vampyr overcame her. Her body relaxed and she dreamed.
In her dream she stood on the deck of a ship. It was not The Reaver, but rather an unknown frigate of dark wood and large, billowing black sails. Men and women in dark clothes and wearing masquerade masks manned the ship, running about doing the duties of a dedicated crew. A tall figure approached from behind Rovana, and she saw, just as she had in her lewd fantasy, the mostly undressed figure of the vampire, Ludmilla, striding across the deck and putting an arm around Rovana's shoulder.
She was topless, showing off her perfectly formed breasts, muscular arms and abdomen. Around her hips and draping down her butt thighs, she wore a thin white cloth that left little do the imagination. A leather belt with silver rings fitted around her waist, from which fell a slightly thicker white cloth down to her knees, which hid her sex, although she appeared feminine in this particular vision.
In one hand, she held a war spear, with an ornate, silver tipped head. On her brow, she wore a silvered band in place of the golden tiara she had worn for Strahd. At either side of the band, above her ears, were metal dragon wings.
"Who knew that such a mighty sea was so close by?" She spoke to Rovana, gazing out at the dark waters with awe and wonder.
"So many lands to explore. Treasure to be claimed. Hearts to be won."
At this last comment, Ludmilla's hand tightened about the blonde pirate captain's shoulder and she turned Rovana to her.
"I knew you could lift my curse, Rovana. You found the way. The mighty spirit powerful enough to call me back from undeath. The weapon that reminded me of my ancient pledge. And for that, I will sail the seas with you until the end of time itself. None shall be as feared or as honored on the waves as you and I together!"
She kissed Rovana then. Her powerful warrior's frame pulling the smaller woman in tightly, as the first rays of dawn cascaded above the waves and struck them both. Ludmilla's flesh was warm, and the sunlight did not bother her. She laughed lightly, and brought Rovana's hand down to caress between her athletic thighs, where she would feel the petals of her female sex, wet and damp with lust and anticipation.
"Good thing I didn't lose all the tricks of my curse, no?" Ludmilla said, and then Rovana would feel something growing out of the top of Ludmilla's slit, where her clit was. A thick, hard shaft materialized out of the twisting flesh, and below it, a pair of equally luscious balls.
"Now, let's see you handle my cock as well as you do your cutlass, mm?"
Ludmilla pushed Rovana down, firmly but gently, to her knees, and held her there as the newly formed cock pressed against her lips.
"Raaaawrk! Blow the man down! Wee Woo!" Joe squawked, alive and well, observing in his own perverted fashion from the nearby railing, his green feathers rustling.
As Rovana took to tending her lover's cock, the dream vision blurred and grew darker, the dawn light fading as the world warped around her... Now it was night again, and they were still on a sea, though it was misty all around. Looking up at Ludmilla, her cock still erect before Rovana's mouth, the pirate captain would see that tje warrior's flesh was slightly more ashen than before, and she had her vampiric fangs bared in a strikingly beautiful yet intimidating visage.
"Dread mistressss...." Ludmilla cooed, her tone dramatically different... more cruel.
"Hnnh, I am honored to serve you. A true vampyr... more worthy than Strahd ever was. You saw the dark power there for the taking, and now, my Dark Lady, we have no fear. For WE are the terror that grips the hearts of the living! Hnnh... enjoy my body, dread mistress. It is yours!"
Rovana would see lightning flash and the crack of thunder as the wind howled and the seas became choppy.
"Raaaawrk! Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell! Wee Woo!" Joe the parrot was still on the railing, but his eye patch was gone and behind where it should have been was a dark socket and decaying flesh and parts of the bird's skull open to the air. In the middle of the dark socket was a single pinpoint of evil red light.
All the men and women crew were now ghoulish in their bearing, still pretty, but covered in dried bloodstains and surrounded in auras of terror and fear. The billowing sails were now ripped and torn, yet still the wind propelled the ship as if they were whole...
Ludmilla's cock pushed against her lips, insistently.
"You have shown the gods! You have shown all the powers arrayed against you! We rule the waves, dread mistress! Above and below!"
The ship broke deep as the vampiric warrior fell upon Rovana, licking her neck with an extended tongue, ripping the captain's shirt and loosening her corset to have the blonde rogue's breasts spill out and mash against the dark woman's bosom. Water broke over the rails and the prow plunged into a wave and the ship and its crew went below the sea, down... down into the dark, to Davy Jones locker. But the ship and its crew would rise again...
***
Rovana woke the next morning unsure what to make of her dreams, save that she had the strong feeling she was being shown possibilities - destinations where strands of fate might lead her. But the how of it all still eluded her. Perhaps there was someone skilled in the reading of fate who could guide her? And to which fate would the pirate captain wish to be guided?
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DM
Esvele's Room
Tag: Esvele
With little more to say to Rovana, other than perhaps a parting word, Esvele was left to speak with Jasmina and Ismark while Vita remained with Ireena upstairs.
"You seem to know much of the Vistani," Ismark remarked with curiosity and a slight degree of hesitance in his voice.
"I do not know of this seer beyond what the Lady Jasmina has told me. How much faith could we put in the words of one of those... people. They have made a deal with the devil, that they might pass to and fro from this cursed lands, and in exchange they are his eyes and ears and indeed, they are sometimes the hands that throttle us in our sleep or stab us upon the road. There is danger in going headlong into one of their camps."
The elven woman beside him waved her hand towards the young burgomeister.
"Her powers are real, Ismark. Very real. She has the gift. Few practicitioners of the arcane arts choose the path of divination, and fewer still are those with a natural affinity for it. It is not a flashy sort of magic, and it does not set a foe alight nor turn lead into gold, but at its heart is a power far greater. Knowledge is what would be required to defeat Strahd. And it is she who can give it. Whatever her reasons, I do not think the Seer serves Strahd, or would do so only if directly commanded - an unwilling servant who plots their master's downfall."
She turned to Esvele.
"You must do what you feel is best and right by Ireena. My dear Ismark cares for his sister, and she in turn has put her faith in the Morninglord, just as you have. Perhaps it will take a sister of the cloth to lead our dear girl to salvation. On the morrow, when you lay the old burgomeister to rest, I shall journey with Rovana on her own path, at least until she finds her own way."
After Esvele spoke any remaining questions to either of the sword fighters, she was encouraged to seek rest in her guest bedroom, or with Ireena, whichever she willed.
During her rest, Esvele dreamed that she was back on the high hill, at the Abbey of St. Markovia in Krezk, her adopted home. In her dream, the sun shone brightly upon the hilltop, and the abbey bell, which had not rung out in her living memory, now resounded through the town and nearby valley, calling the faithful to come to prayer.
A statue of the revered saint, a beautiful woman, yet shown in a resolute pose, stood in the middle of the grand hall on the ground floor. And in the dream, Esvele knelt before the statue and asked for a blessing - and in response the statue moved, its grey stonework flexing and turning in colour, becoming flesh once more. And before her stood the living saint, Markovia.
"You have trodden a long road, my sister," Markovia said, speaking to Esvele gently.
"You have carried with you the burden of your sins. Like me, you sought not only to gaze into the abyss, but to wade into it, bringing the light of good to drive back the shadow. I am glad that in the end, you found me and did what needed to be done. There will always be evil. What is important is that there will always be good to act against it, even in the heart of darkness itself. When you hunt that darkness, you must take the utmost care to not let it into your heart, lest you become the very darkness you sought to cast out. Not all who walk a path with the best of intentions avoid succumbing to that darkness. They can fool themselves, blind their own eyes to their sin. Bless you child, for showing yourself to be above that. Go with the grace of the Morninglord, and continue to be his sword and shield. Barovia will always need you and those like you."
Markovia bent down and kissed Esvele upon her lips, lightly. Then she drew back and gazed down beatifically before fading into nothingness, leaving no statue nor trace that she had been there.
Then the dream turned dark. The sun blotted from the sky. The abbey, which had before looked so bright and cheery now darkened and decayed and it filled with the screams and cacophony of the deranged and the dying. The decor had changed. Blasphemous symbols arrayed the walls, and this place was no longer the domain of the Morninglord, but something evil and sinister. Gazing down at herself, Esvele noted that she was dressed in an ornate, yet somewhat unfamiliar style of robe and a fancy headress that covered all but her face.
The door at the far end of the hall opened, and a parade of over a dozen girls in skimpy nuns outfits, each cut short so as to not cover their lower bodies and revealing a fully erect cock on each of them, walked down the hall with hands clasped in prayer. They stopped in front of this new Esvele, and they bowed respectfully.
"Good midnight to you, Mother Abbotess. We have prepared your oil bath, before you address the congregation of the faithful. We are blessed to serve you tonight." Spoke one confident looking young nun, sporting an iron cock ring around her massive phallus. The other nuns all murmured their agreement and looked longingly at Esvele, as though each of them yearned with all their desire to please her in the most lewd of manners.
"Oh praise to our Abbotess!" the lead nun continued.
"She who speaks for the true power! She who is His voice! The speaker of truth! The giver of laws! Praise to her and to the Lawgiver! He who defeats the false tyrant and uplifts us through rites and obeisance to His Will!"
"Praise! Praise! Oh praise her!" echoed the other nuns, who then moved to either side of Esvele and pawed at her, lovingly, and perhaps obsessively. The lead nun moved to kiss Esvele as the others drew her down the passageway, carefully undoing her dress as they went, arriving shortly at a small room that smelled of incense and fine, luxurious oils, lit with scented candles. There they finished undressing her, and then the crowd of well endowed dick girl nuns undressed themselves too, save for their habits and began to pour and rub in warm oil over Esvele, moaning in adoration as they went.
The dream devolved into raunchy group sex, and as Esvele woke in the dim morning mist from her odd dreams, she somehow knew that these dreams were more than just her idle imagination. Both of them could be true possibilities for her. But how was she meant to achieve these ends? To be blessed by Markovia herself, or to become a person of true power in a church of another god?
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DM
A spare room with Ireena
Tag: Vita
"Yes," Ireena said.
"Wolfmen are known as werewolves here. The terms are likely interchangeable, to my knowledge, limited as it may be."
The noble woman squeezed Vita's hand.
"If we can make it beyond the eastern gate of Barovia proper and reach the city of Vallaki, then we will be able to safely rely on strong walls and sturdy buildings, the likes of which Strahd and his dreadful brides cannot penetrate. It is a fortified city, my brother tells me. And all trade that we have from that direction confirms this. There is an armed militia there, and another church of the Morninglord. Somewhat bigger than our own here, I imagine. From such a fortified place, we could settle in and take hunts out during the day, when the werewolves are weakest, and find your mother. If I were in your place, that is what I would do, Vita."
When the tiefling suggested going to the master bedroom and bunking up with all people in the house, the fiendish presence inside of Vita did pulse with appreciation, but it was quickly squashed by Ireena's response.
"I... don't wish to do that. In the short time that I have known her, Rovana has mocked my religion, blamed me for the death of my father AND now of Tristam, and told me that I have to follow her orders or die. I appreciate the terrible situation you and she are in, being led here into the cursed Barovia under false pretenses, but you have managed to not insult and discount everything about me to my face, when invited into my home and given food under my roof. I do not feel safe in that woman's company, and I do not feel she would appreciate my presence either. I will stay in the western guest room. All rooms in this house have windows, but it is a small one, and boarded tightly. Still, I would appreciate it very much if we both could keep each other company. I have enjoyed what you have to say and the kind soul that I sense in you. I could use kindness now, so soon after this horrible night."
Ireena held Vita's hands. Ireena's were cold compared to the warmth that Vita's light gave off through her skin. The darkness inside of Vita seemed to recoil at Ireena's touch. Instinctively, Vita could sense that Ireena was, deep down a virtuous person, with a touch of her own light. Maybe it was this sort of light that made her such a target for Strahd? If so, what would that mean for Vita if Strahd ever realized what inner light she possessed?
Ireena would make it clear that she would like Vita's presence with her as she slept, but if it was Vita's desire to go back to the master's bedroom with Rovana, she would not object, and would gather up her garments and armor and rapier and move to the other guest room alone. If however Vita agreed to sleep in the same room with Ireena, the noble woman would whisper another thanks to her and invite her into the bed, completely putting her trust in the tiefling.
"She probably needs some physical comfort, to move past Tristam. I don't know if you sensed it, but I think that girl is as mad about not getting to climax as she is about losing that boy of hers. Shame I'm all locked up inside of your body, Vita. Otherwise I could go about being the man of her dreams."
The fiend's voice was practically human sounding now, yet Vita could still tell that it was the darkness inside of her speaking. Along with his words, she saw a mental picture of the fiend when he said that he would be the "man of her dreams."
"That was what always bothered me about the side of the angels... they always assumed that I was never helping mortals out. But if anything, that was the furthest thing from the truth. I helped plenty of people, directly and indirectly. If a girl needed pleasure and an escape from her troll of a husband or boyfriend, I would give that girl the release she desired and deserved... and for that sort of service, I was captured and put in a hole... tsk tsk. Ah well. Maybe if you're not going to let me out, you could at least take some advice? Ireena needs a little loving right now. Something to take her mind off all the guys. Why don't you give that feminine touch of yours, mm? I saw how touchy feely you were with Rovana back there. Why not take a slice from both pies, eh? A little bit of noble and a little bit of pirate. Two very impressive notches in your belt, farm girl!"
At the lewd suggestions, the human voice became slightly more fiendish, and the image of the beautiful, powerful man flashed suddenly and gave Vita the quick mental picture of a still alluring, but obviouly demonic figure.
Despite how perverted his suggestions sounded, the fiend had a natural charm to his voice that made what he was saying seem reasonable. Vita had the ability to reject or accept his advice however she chose, or to ignore it and do what she wanted for her own reasons. She felt instinctively that if the fiend were to be let out of her, his voice would be a lot more charming.
