1 Oceans and intrigue

Saras awoke with a yawn, stretching out whilst basking in the sun.

She stood slowly, reluctant to leave the warmth her fur covered bed for the chill of spring air. As her paws landed on the cold stone floor, the chill shot up her body; making her nipples erect, and causing her hair to stand on end.

"Damned cold, you'd think we'd have figured out a heating system by now." She hissed, her silver colored tail swishing in annoyance.

She hastily padded over to the rug, a bear fur which she'd killed on the last hunt, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why's it so fucking cold? It's supposed to be spring!" Saras exclaimed, venting her annoyance as she withdrew her priestly garments from her wardrobe.

They were crimson colored, made of Verak wool; durable and reliable, just the way the Mechanite Church liked it.

"Slave! Come here an help!" She called, thoroughly annoyed at how her morning was going.

A human woman, barely thirteen winters old, came rushing into the room. Her clothes were all messed up, and she hastily wiped a white liquid from the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry mistress, the guards held me back. They demanded a pay the entrance toll." The slave said with a shudder, keeping her eyes downcast in hopes of avoiding her owner's wrath.

"Those bastards! They should know better than to use church property without prior permission!" Saras exclaimed, enraged by the affront to her organization.

She didn't care in the slightest that the guards had raped her slave. That was normal, and a good way to keep the human chattel in line.

What irked her so much was that they had done so without her permission! And she intended to make them pay...

"Come, slave. Kneel before me." Saras declared, and the young woman feel to her knees before the youthful Orassan priestess.

"I need to use the latrine, and since you failed in readying the chamber pot, you'll serve in its place. Don't fail me again, slave." Saras growled, standing over the cowering figure.

"Yes mistress, sorry mistress." The slave whimpered, opening her mouth and doing her best to please her owner.

Better to swallow cat's piss, than be sent to the breeding stables to support the war.

Saras let out a long sigh, tilting her head back in contentment, as her tail swung slowly from side to side.

"Good girl. Now, on your feet, slave. The baron's son expects me at noon; I need to deal with the guards, and I'm still not dressed yet." Saras said in a dissatisfied tone.

The slave hurried to dress her owner; slipping on her skirt and and buttoning up her overcoat.

Those were the only clothing anyone needed. Spending valuable cloth on something as frivolous as undergarments would be viewed as foolish and wasteful.

Saras snorted in amusement as her slave scurried, enjoying the power she had over the foolish humans.

When she was ready, she grabbed her staff - a long bronze-enforced oaken pole ending in a gear - which was simultaneously her symbol of office, and her primary weapon.

Saras snapped her fingers, and her slave appeared besides her; newly collared and presenting a thin leash to her owner.

Saras smiled, gripping the leash in her left hand, and giving it a good tug. It felt good to remind her slave of her place in society.

Without warning, Saras set off; exiting her room and striding down the stacked stone hallway. Her slave hurried to keep up, feeling the insistent tug on her leash, and wishing she could afford a longer one.

Her mistress marched her through the twists and turns of the castle, which served as the home of House Liona.

Sooner than she'd have preferred, they reached the front keep. The same three guards who'd had their way with her earlier still stood at their positions.

She could feel them leering at her as they crossed the filthy front courtyard, and could have sworn one chuckled as they stepped through the refuse of the chamber pot dump.

However, their leers hastily vanished when they saw who held her collar.

"Priestess, what brings you here?" One of them asked cordially, attempting to prevent his fear from showing.

"Some bastard whore-children thought they could make use of Mechanite property without the permission of a priestess. I've come to correct their misconceptions." Saras snarled, barring her teeth at the gate guards.

"Priestess, I feel there may have been a misunderstanding." The guard began, but was quickly caught off by a growl from Saras.

Saras turned to her slave. "Are they the ones?" She asked, still glaring in the direction of the guards.

"Yes mistress." Her slave replied, careful not to risk her owner's ire with impertinent tones.

"You three, kneel." Sara's declared, smirking as the three guards obeyed. All three dropped to their knees in the filthy ground of the courtyard keep.

"For your crime of using church property without permission, I could do quite literally anything to you. I could enslave you, castrate you, or even send you to the research department as a test subject." Saras said, a sadistic gleam in her eyes as she enjoyed the terror of the guards.

"However, because I'm friends with Baron Liona's son, I'll refrain from the harshest punishments." She declared, enjoying how she was able to toy with their emotions.

Saras looked down, and made a look of mock dismay, as she noticed the filthy state of her traveling boots.

"Oh, how unfortunate, it looks like I stepped in something! And these were my nicest boots, too. Why don't you three come over here and clean them off for me?" She asked, in a sickly sweet tone.

"Slave, I'll need somewhere to sit while these three fine young gentlemen lick my boots clean." Sara's declared, smirking as her slave dropped on hands and knees.

Saras gently sat upon the back of her slave, and motioned to her muck covered boots.

"Well, go on then. It's either you lick them clean, or I castrate you" she declared, and laughed with sadistic glee as the three guards scrambled to obey.

Saras sat there, enjoying the quivering of her weary slave, and feeling amused as the guards would alternate between gagging and cleaning.

When they finally finished, Saras used her newly cleaned shoes to stand above them, and kicked each of them in the head.

"Use church property without permission again, and I'll make the crimson tide seem like a mercy in comparison. Am I understood?" She asked in a tittering, crazed tone.

"Yes priestess." They groaned, and Saras humph'd in response.

She turned back towards the primary keep's entrance, and saw a man standing there, leaning against the doorway.

He had tawny colored fur, and eyes the color of the sun. His name is Ash Liora, and he is Saras' dearest friend and closest suitor.

His tail swished back and forth, whilst his eyes twinkled with amusement. He laughed lightly as Saras once more crossed the dirty courtyard, getting her shoes filthy again in the process.

Ash looked down at her boots, and his eyes took their sweet time in looking up to match Saras' own.

"Like what you see?" Sara's asked, amused. She absentmindedly tugged on her slave's leash, forcing her to her knees.

"I most certainly do." Ash purred, winking at Saras.

"Although I hope I shan't have to pay the same price as my guards for my own impertinence." Ash said with a chuckle.

Saras laughed as well, affectionately placing her hand on his chest.

"Oh darling, I'd never make you do that! Unless, of course, you wanted to..." Saras trailed off, winking at Ash.

"Oh gods no! That's what we have slaves for!" Ash exclaimed, and they both broke into laughter.

Eventually, Saras brought them back on point.

"You requested to see me earlier, my lord?" She asked, taking on an empty-headed and and needy tone.

"Indeed I did. I couldn't stand the thought of going a day without seeing my beautiful bride to be." Ash declared, and watched in amusement as Saras' slave blushed.

Saras noticed where her future mate's eyes were pointing, and her own eyes narrowed in response.

Then, she had an epiphany. "While we're unable to do anything together yet, as we are not yet wed; perhaps you'd like to use my slave as an intermediary?" Saras asked, tempting her future husband.

"Perhaps; it would certainly be entertaining to have a slave pleasure me at your command." Ash said, contemplating the proposal.

"Although, I would never do so with your current slave. She's already been broken in." He said, tossing away the idea.

"Then I'll get a new one." Saras declared, already mentally discarding her current slave.

Her slave's eyes widened, and she whimpered in dismay. She knew what her fate would be.

"Interesting how you mentioned that, Saras. I've actually been tasked by my father to retrieve the tithe from the seaside village today. Perhaps you'd like to join me? The view is wonderful, and it's a quaint little town. I'll even let you have first pick of the tithe." Ash said, tempting Saras to accompany him.

"Certainly, dearest!" Saras' exclaimed, putting off her priestly duties in favor of attending to her future husband.

"Wonderful! I'll gather some men and have the Ku'at saddled. Meet me at the stable?" He asked, and Saras nodded.

"Just let me dispose of this current slave. Wouldn't want it teaching the new one any tricks!" She exclaimed, keeping a smile on her face as Ash walked away.

The moment Ash rounded the corner, she glared at her slave with sadistic glee.

"You useless thing; you already know where you're going." She tittered, and her slave clung to her leg.

"Please mistress, anything but that!" The slave exclaimed, horrified.

Saras paid her no pleas heed, and kicked her slave until she no longer clung to Saras' leg.

She then grabbed the leash, and hauled the crying slave through the keep, into the secondary courtyard.

This one had rows and rows of stalls, in a manner similar to how one might store cattle.

She hauled her slave over to the brood-master, and unclipped her collar.

"This one is yours. Break her in, and ensure her milk goes exclusively to me. Her offspring are to be sent to the church, not the crown. Understood?" Sara's asked, and the brood-master nodded slowly in response.

Saras ignored the cries of her ex-slave as she was hauled away, and instead wandered over to the closest stall.

She sat there for a moment, enjoying the begging and wailing in the background, whilst she stared into the stall.

As she stared, two glossy eyes starred back. Not glossy from blindness, but glossy from a lack of willingness to live.

The slave occupying this stall had been thoroughly broken, and was resigned herself to her place in life.

Saras smiled gently and briefly pet the broken woman's hair; in a manner similar to how she'd have petted any other animal.

Saras stood, putting the fate of countless brood-mares from her mind, and hastened back to the primary courtyard.

There, she found her fiancé, alongside a host of other men; purebreds all.

They were all armored in gambesons, strong cloth padded jackets capable of withstanding slashes.

Her handsome fiancé wore a dapper looking cap, setting him apart from the rest.

"Darling, climb upon my Ku'at!" Ash said, gesturing towards his two-horned beast; which appeared oddly reminiscent of a rhinoceros.

Saras walked slowly to the beast, enjoying the regal appearance her beloved gave whilst readied for combat.

When she reached the mount, she was easily able to climb atop it, due to her agile form.

Ash smiled as Saras' arms wrapped around his waist, and he whistled for the men's attention.

"We're going to the seaside village! They should have our tribute prepared by now. If they don't, we'll collect it ourselves!" He declared, and the men roared in response.

Ash was a favorite of the men, because he always let their excess be forgiven. If a few peasants had to lose their maidenheads so his men would remain loyal, so be it.

He whistled and circled his arm in the air, signifying for them to rally around him, and they set out from the main gates.

Saras laughed as she saw the guards from earlier still coughing and hacking in response to their punishment.

"You went too easy on them." Ash murmured to her, keeping his voice quiet so as not to be overheard.

"I am aware, but I didn't wish to spoil your image for the men." Saras replied, giving her fiancé a wink.

"For that, I thank you. I'll ensure you have your pick of the choicest slave; and if the village fails to produce one to your liking, we can always swing south to visit the Grias slave auctions." Ash declared, eager to please his woman in reward for her consideration.

They rode on for many hours, moving in a generally eastern direction, following a dirt track through the wilderness. They remained silent whilst in the forest, not wishing to disturb the spirits within.

As they emerged from the forest onto a small plain, they could see the stacked stone walls of the village in the distance. Thatched roofed huts could be faintly seen beyond the wall.

Smoke curled up from chimneys in lazy trails, and the smell of cooking food permeated the air.

"That smells extraordinarily good. Whoever's cooking that, we have to get the recipe." Saras declared, and Ash's stomach rumbled in agreement.

They rode along the path, and Saras' hand reached out to touch the shoulder height grain as the passed.

"They seem to be doing well for themselves, why don't we tax them more often?" Ash asked casually, interested in the Mechanite position on the issue.

"Because they also need to feed themselves. By heavily taxing one village each season, we create a sustainable cycle to continue the war." Saras responded, happy that her fiancé was finally showing interest in the running of a domain.

As they approached the gate, a human male standing guard shouted down to them.

"Who goes there?" The man cried, unnerved at the military might displayed.

"Your overlords. We've come to collect your tribute." Ash replied, laying his hand upon the hilt of his kopesh.

"Apologies sirah, we're preparing the feast now. Let me just open the gate!" The human villager exclaimed, cringing at the displeasure in Ash's voice.

After a short wait, the log gate was opened, and Ash's mounted contingent rode into the village.

All of the village was assembled, a majority of whom were young people. All of them appeared small and malnourished, completely at odds with the appearance of a prosperous village the outside field gave.

One stood out from the rest. Covered with ash, naked as the day she was born; this villager was much healthier looking than the rest.

Intricate spirals and patterns covered her body, painted on with a blue dye; the lines stood in stark contrast to her grey coated form, and brought the viewers attention to her fully developed assets.

Whilst the woman's body was made to look as appealing as possible, her face was less so. It was terrified, and rightly so.

Her fellow villagers had fattened her up, and treated her like royalty; in a manner similar to how the Aztecs had treated her own sacrifices. That's what she was, a sacrifice; and she knew it.

She quivered visibly in fear, kept in place only by the ropes binding her, and the men at her side.

Saras licked her lips in appreciation; she always enjoyed watching the new ones squirm, before breaking them in properly.

She turned to Ash, and asked him the most important question; one which would literally decide the fate of the woman before them.

"Is she good enough, or shall she go to the tithe?" Saras asked, loudly and clearly.

The woman's struggling increased visibly, causing Saras to laugh in amusement.

"She's pretty, I suppose. I still feel like we might get a better one at Grias. I'll decide by the time we get home." Ash declared, and Saras nodded in agreement.

"If we're lucky, we might even get an elf! Rumor has it that House Arcadia has some gelded males available." Saras said temptingly, tracing a finger down his well muscled and fur covered back.

"You just want someone to knock you up without risk of pregnancy." Ash replied, smiling in the face of his woman's temptations.

"Perhaps if I was, I might be more willing to see to some of your own needs, darling. If you aren't aware, I have more than one hole..." Saras whispered in Ash's ear, trailing off to let his brain spin at the potential.

"Men, we're going to Grias! Grab the tithe, and whatever else you feel like taking!" Ash declared, leading his mount to the table of food.

He picked up a chunky piece of bread, made from poorly ground flour, but bit into it nonetheless.

Food is food, and they skipped breakfast; they'd likely be skipping lunch as well. It's not smart to stop in the woods for something as ordinary as lunch; even armed and armored as they are.

Saras acquainted herself with a wonderful stew, before pocketing an entire loaf of bread for the road.

Whilst the two nobles were feasting, the men were pillaging. The villagers had scattered, trying to hide; but the men demanded satisfaction, and no mere peasant was going to deny them.

Soon, the screams and tear-choked wailing of captured females were echoing through the village, providing a delightful atmosphere for the sadistic overlords.

"Should we give them some more time, or should we round them up and set off?" Saras asked, leaning against a wooden post whilst feeding their Ku'at mount pieces of bread.

"Give them a while longer. If we didn't let them have their fun, we'd be failing in our duties to the crown. How else is this shitty backwater village supposed to expand it's population?" Ash asked with a grim chuckle.

"True enough. Besides, they should really be thanking the men instead of begging for them to stop. If they're caring for infants, they're exempt from being part of the tax." Saras said, shrugging at the foolishness of their human subjects.

"Do you honestly expect the insular peasantry to be capable of such higher level thinking, Saras?" Ash asked, giving her a dumbfounded look.

"Sorry, darling. It's an old and rather outdated teaching of the Mechanite Church; it states that all have equal potential for greatness, it is simply their ability to express their potential which differs." Saras said; unintentionally copying the educational tone her instructor had used while forcing her to memorize the phrase.

"Based on the fact that we're nobility and they're part of the unwashed masses, I believe we'll have to agree to disagree." Ash said, shaking his head at the foolishness of the Mechanite church.

"What we can agree on, however, is that it's time to go. The slave markets in Grias open at midday, so if we gather the men and set off now, we should be there in time for the choicest options!" Saras exclaimed, eager to get her fiancé back into the right mindset.

Female slaves were alright, but they just couldn't quite fulfill all of her cravings.

"Agreed." Ash said, and they climbed back atop their Ku'at.

It trundled slowly along the muddy path, allowing them to bang on doors and call out their contingent of men.

Many of them heeded the call immediately - half nude with weapons drawn - ready for a fight.

When they learned that they were merely heading out, they took the time to put on the rest of their clothing.

One failed to respond to the call, causing Ash to go inside.

Ash found his man pinned to the floor, naked, whilst the female inhabitant was aiming a purloined kopesh towards him.

"No more! He promised, no more!" The woman was screaming, tears streaming from her eyes as her bruised and nude form shook with rage.

Ash wacked her on the head with a nearby stick, and dragged her outside with the help of his man.

Brain dead or not, she'd serve just fine as a brood mare.

They bound her in the same way as the tithe slave was bound, and threw her on the back of a ku'at.

When all the men were assembled, Ash made a declaration.

"That slave attempted rebellion against her owners. I want her raped continuously for the rest of the journey. Is that understood?" Ash asked, annoyed.

His guards nodded weakly in response.

"Pick better marks next time, and work in teams. The gods gave people multiple holes for a reason!" Saras announced, and the guardsmen blushed in embarrassment, suitably chastised.

Saras slapped the ass of the tithe slave slung over the back of her Ku'at, enjoying the continued fearful quivering the slave was producing.

"For your sake, I hope the heir Liora finds you pleasing. If not, I'll enjoy slaking his thirst with your produce." Saras murmured softly into the slave's ear; and burst into laughter as the slave pissed herself in terror.

"Saras, stop teasing the poor beast. If you don't want to visit the market, just say so, and we'll return home." Ash said, raising and eyebrow and gesturing towards the waiting guardsmen.

Saras glowered at him, before climbing over the bound slave, and sitting atop her.

Ash laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his fiancé, before whistling and gesturing for his men to follow him once more.

As they rode out of town at a relaxed pace, Saras felt the need to speak up.

"I must say, this journey is a lot more pleasant with proper padding. Perhaps slaves can be used for more than just pleasure and feeding the war effort?" Saras postulated, and Ash smirked.

"Perhaps, but don't let the royalty catch wind of your thinking. They might misinterpret it as the Mechanite church attempting to free the slaves!" He joked, and they laughed together at the absurdity of the concept.

Unnoticed by their group, two barbarians stalked them in the woods. One with an iron tipped staff, and one with a sling.

The barbarians stepped out onto the road as the group disappeared around a bend, and the staff bearer spoke up.

"Grias... I suppose I know where we'll travel next, my Sarin." The staff bearer said, raising their voice at the end to address their partner.

"Da, miné cunchatka?" (Yes, my husband?) The sling wielder asked, looking at the staff bearer.

"Krat jæ jaroth wyr nom?" (Did you poison the food?) The staff wielded asked, watching the armed troop ride off further down the road.

"Yehru, cunchatka. Con nÿ kuya froa mi, oa jüt sterben en ein lunas shör." (Correct, husband. With no help from me, they will die in one moon's cycle.) The sling user replied, before vanishing once more into the woods to resume the hunt.

"Kya Luna?" (Which moon?) The staff bearing man asked, not really expecting an answer, as he followed his woman into the wilderness.

The Orassan mounted contingent lazily rode on, none the wiser.