Wing Woman of the Year

[Jake Narmolanya]

“Excuse us,” Jake said, trying not to laugh. Although he was not in his cups like Amari, the half elf had imbibed enough that the redhead’s actions seemed silly rather than alarming.

The ham-fisted gentleman who the Salvarian had stolen a bite from wiped his mouth on the collar of his burlap shirt. His beady eyes glared from Jake to Amari, and then back to Jake. The code of chivalry passed down from the Knights of Scara Brae ran deep in the blood of the men on the island nation. Even a random blacksmith’s apprentice (which was what the big man appeared to be, judging by his corded muscles and callused hands) would be unlikely to ever show any aggression to a lady.

Her male companion, on the other hand, had no such protection. The rywan trunk of a man gave a wordless growl and started to rise. Jake caught him in an Akashiman fingerlock, using the hold on the smallest of the man’s digits. He sat the smith back down in his chair and apologized again.

“Really very sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your meal.” Jake grasped Amari’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll be on our way.”

Several men from other tables stood up, blocking their path to the door.

Oh no, Jake thought, And I don’t even have my sword.

A scream from outside tore through the walls, followed by another, and another. Cries of pain and wails of terror, with only a single discernible word among them.

“Goblins!”

The mood in the dive shifted immediately. The men who had menaced the strangers turned towards the door like one body, most strapping on swords or other weapons that they had removed whilst enjoying their meals. The women set to gathering tables and chairs between them, preparing to barricade the door after the fighters departed.

“Fuck that shit!” Amari exclaimed as Jake opened his mouth to suggest she stay behind, “I’m coming wish you!”

“I was only going to suggest you stay here to protect them,” Jake said. “Come on then.” The pair ducked out the door following the flood of fighters. The wind had cleared the clouds, and the moon enlivened the bedlam below.

Goblins swarmed from building to building, wielding sickle swords and small spiked axes. Most of them were shorter than Jake, but built solidly, and they fought in clever groups of three and four, isolating their human targets and overwhelming them, harsh shouts ringing from their leathery mouths.

“Keep close!” Jake cried, grabbing Amari’s dress as the press of people threatened to separate them. The Scarans fought in larger knots than the goblins, forming circles back to back to back to avoid being singled out by the bloodthirsty savages. Jake kicked the first goblin that came close in the ribs and stole its sickle sword, shoving the snarling creature away with a stumble. He passed the hooked weapon to Amari.

“A sword!” The half elf yelled over the melee, “I must have a proper blade!” The Scarans ignored him, clutching their weapons in white-knuckled determination. Jake leaped and kicked the next goblin to come along in the jaw. It stumbled, and Amari stabbed it through the neck. The half elf snatched up the axe it dropped and swung viciously to fend off another pressing pair. He could use the captured weapons, but a proper long blade would be like an extra friend watching his back.

Although the Scaran folk fought bravely, the goblins had the element of surprise, and an advantage in numbers. If the Knights of Scara Brae opened the city gates and rode out, surely the goblins could be defeated. But the city’s bells had not even begun to toll.

[Mari]

Amari was normally a very adept fighter, but even at the best of times she failed to correctly wield a weapon.

This time, she was absolutely plastered, the fact she managed to cleave a few goblins in half was nothing short of a miracle.

Amari glanced down at the weapon, swaying side to side, “Bleargh.” She threw it toward the ground. “Thish ish shtupid.”

The goblins, seeing a defenceless well dressed woman, swaying from intoxication saw her as the perfect target. The few who were swarming Jake shifted their attentions to Amari. They clucked their tongues and spoke in a language she didn’t quite understand, they menacingly waved their sickles and pikes toward her as they closed in on her.

Big mistake.

Amari groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Fine….” She wasn’t planning to fight she was planning to sorta...sit back and watch. This wasn’t her battle. This wasn’t even her region. Still, now she was being targeted and that was a problem. Four large tentacles erupted from Amari’s back, one sweeped across in a circle around her, immediately wiping out several goblins. They fell forward into a pile of their own stomach contents.

Nearby villagers who caught the gory sight screamed. Loud. Amari held her head, frustrated. DIdn’t she just save their damn lives? In a roundabout she more so saved her own life kind of way. Shouldn’t they be a little more grateful?

AMari turned her attention to the group of men to her side, the same group of men she had taken a bite of meat from. Amari’s lips curled into a grin as she stumbled toward them, dangerous tentacles flying in the air behind her.

THWAK!

Another four goblins down, sliced clean in half. The men bewildered looked to the blood riddled mess at their feet then to Amari, who was giving them a sheepish grin, awaiting a thank you.

She got none, instead they turned away from her, and charged at a different set of goblins. Amari had a feeling she wouldn’t be making any ‘friends’ anytime soon. “Yeh you runaway yer….fuckjn cowards!” Amari screamed after them, before stumbling and falling into the mess of goblin goop.

“Aww, shit.” She mumbled as she lifted up her arms. The sleeves of her dress were covered in blood and tattered pieces of greenish grey skin. “Advenshia ish gon be pished.” At least most the beasts were more or less avoiding her now, seeing her easily fell their comrades.

Amari was vaguely aware of Jake calling out for a sword. That’s funny...he’s looking for a sword, but there is one right there. Amari thought to herself as she stared at the sword before her, lying in a pool of crimson. She was too drunk to make the connection and provide any sufficient help toward the half elf.

Every so often a goblin would fare too close and be cleaved in half with her tentacles; some of the villagers began to catch on, and made their way behind her knowing she would act as both a shield and a deterrent to the oncoming swarm.

[Jake Narmolanya]

The people of Scara Brae fought well against the pressing goblins; most of them had faced the leathery-skinned creatures before. Even so, several of them fell to the sickle swords. Jake spied a dropped longsword on the ground nearby. At last. He kicked a snarling goblin away and dove for the weapon, rolling in the bloody mud and coming up with the steel hilt clutched in both hands.

The sword had a straight blade, and while Jake preferred a slightly curved one, it would more than suffice. The half elf’s posture changed dramatically with a proper weapon in his possession. He moved out from the safety of the group he’d been fighting with, mingling with the gruesome goblins. The sword was alive in his hands, dancing to defend and angling to attack. He carved a swathe through the field of battle, rejoining Amari where she protected a group of folk who had not found safety in the buildings.

“You found a shword!” Amari cried as her tentacles slew another goblin.

“Yes!” Jake beheaded a foul smelling creature with a great cleave.

“You there!” One of the women cowering behind Amari cried. In the faint moonlight, Jake barely recognized her as Isabella’s raven haired friend. “Those monsters took Isabella! You must save her!”

A cold sweat bathed Jake’s neck as he thought about being kidnapped by goblins. He raised an eyebrow. “Why should they take her?”

“Don’t you see?” The woman hollered over the screams of combat, “I am a lady-in-waiting.” Jake raised his other eyebrow, confused. “She is the Isabella!”

“The what Isabella?” Jake asked.

“Who in Haide are you?” She exclaimed, “The princess Isabella.”

The information hit Jake like a double shot of whisky. He’d asked a bloody princess to bed him? And now he had a chance to redeem himself? Many more questions pressed his mind, such as what a princess and her ladies-in-waiting were doing at a tavern outside the city walls with no guards. It seemed downright foolish, but then he supposed in her situation he might do the same. Slipping past guards to do something against the rules was a Jake special.

“Will you be okay?” The half elf asked Amari. She laughed as her tentacle skewered a goblin.

“Go be a dumb ashh hero,” she slurred, “I’ve got thish.”

Above the ring of steel on steel, through the shouts and screams of the wounded and dying, Jake could hear a horse’s panicked whinny. He fought his way over to where a pair of goblins were trying to untie the animal from its tether post.

Jake countered the first goblin’s axe stroke with an upward slash, opening its throat and jaw to drench the dirt in blood. He stabbed the second one through its boiled leather chestplate, bracing the sword hilt against his shoulder to drive through the armor. The horse’s eyes rolled in panic but it stopped rearing and quieted as Jake laid a calming hand on its snout.

“Come on, girl,” he said to the rust-colored mare, his hands finishing untying her reins. He put a foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle, clicking his tongue and urging the steed forward with pressure from his knees. He would return the horse safely to its owner after he saved the princess. In theory.

[Mari]

How much time had passed, Amari was not sure. She was sure however, of the dwindling number of goblins. Most had been cleaved in half, the rest had fled, save for the few stupid who lingered. Amari was covered in thick and putrid ichor, sludgy, black and red. “Think..thats the last of them.” She muttered. The fight had more or less sobered her up, at least her mind.

Her body was still sluggish and the world around her had a sickly sway to it. The streets were virtually abandoned. The villagers heading indoors away from the crazy drunk woman who flailed tentacles around from her back, and away from the goblins.

A shrill cry arose from within an ally to Amari’s left. So much for that being the last of them… she thought bitterly to herself as she pushed herself to a standing position, staggering toward the cry for help. Why even bother? What did she care if one reckless person died?

As she turned the corner Amari saw a familiar face, it was the raven haired woman from earlier. She was with the blonde who outright rejected Jake. Amari vaguely recalled flirting with the woman, to prove a point to Jake. She had an empty wine bottle in her hand and was using it as a blunt weapon, swinging wildly at two goblins who were quickly advancing on her.

Amari pursed her lips and blew a sharp whistle to garner the attention of the humanoid beasts. the y turned, and their yellowed eyes widened. They clicked and skittered in their native tongue before turning to run. Amari didn’t bother chasing after them. Instead, she turned her gaze to the other woman.

“You alright?”

She dropped the bottle and lunged at Amari, wrapping her arms tightly around the red headeds shoulders. Amari caught her but stumbled backward, too inebriated to keep her balance.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I owe you my life!” she sobbed into Amari’s neck, not caring about the thick blood and entrails that adorned the assassin.

“Uhh, welcome?” Amari muttered, feeling somewhat confused.

Where the fuck are you Jake?

She thought to herself as she gently placed a hand on the womans head in an awkward act of comfort. “You’re safe now.”

[Jake Narmolanya]

Wind whipped through Jake’s dirty blond locks as the rusty mare galloped down the road. They passed the copse of trees where the half elf and Amari had portaled in, and careened around a banked turn.

Torches flickered ahead, and Jake spotted the princess’ familiar flaxen locks in the light. She was gagged and her hands were bound, and two sinewy goblins held her between them. They threw her in the back of a waiting cart, jabbering at each other in a harsh tongue. The taller one waved its torch and circled toward the front of the cart, while the smaller struggled to climb into the back after Isabella. It heard the thunder of the mare’s hooves and turned.

Jake parted the creature’s head from its body with a two-handed cleave as he cantered past. Isabella screamed against her gag as the body flopped down beside her, spraying blood across her dress. Jake flicked ooze from his blade and removed one hand to the reins, wheeling the mare about as the cart rolled forward. Isabella’s eyes bulged as she tried to call for help.

The remaining goblin thrashed the reins and set the horses forward, but Jake’s mount stepped swiftly. He came alongside the princess-napper, and let go with a one handed slash that should have severed both green-brown hands from their wrists. The goblin moved like a snake however, drawing a heavy dagger and deflecting the blow.

With a low growl Jake loosened his feet in the stirrups and leaped upon his enemy. The force of his body carried them both off the cart, and with the reins dropped the horses trotted to a stop.

Jake rolled in the dirt, spinning to his feet and fighting to keep his mind clear. He’d lost the sword in the tumble, but dropped to one knee and unsheathed an iron dagger from his ankle.

The goblin rose just as swiftly, still wielding its heavy steel knife. It was almost as tall as Jake, but had longer, muscular arms and powerful frame. It did not move in the same uncontrolled spasms as most of its ilk, but rather like a trained warrior. It snarled and spat and attacked with a flurry of forward thrusts.

Jake threw himself backwards and rolled away, coming to his feet safely with his own weapon clutched like an icepick. He waited while the goblin changed tactics, attempting a diagonal slash. He stepped in and trapped the steel blade against his hip. And then he stabbed the goblin six times. In the throat, in the heart, the stomach, the groin, and each thigh. In less than a second the creature collapsed in the dirt, leaking what little life remained onto fallen leaves.

The half elf cleaned his blade on the goblin’s jerkin and turned toward the cart. He froze midstep. Isabella’s wide sapphire eyes shone like lanterns. She’d witnessed the brutal killing.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Jake said, leaping into the cart and slicing through the ropes that bound her wrists, “are you alright Isa-”

“That’s Princess Isabella to you,” she coughed, yanking the gag out of her mouth. “Now be quick and drive this cart back to the city, you brute.”

“That’s a fine thank you,” Jake muttered looking down at the goblin blood that covered his and Isabella’s clothing. How many of the wretched creatures had he slain?

“Why should I thank you for doing your duty?” She asked haughtily as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

“In most stories,” Jake grumbled as he urged the horses to turn around, “rescuing the girl gets the hero a kiss, at least.”

“Well fortunately for me, this isn’t a story.” Isabella inched away from the growing pool of gore. “And you’re not even a knight.”

Jake twisted around in the seat, lending a hand as she climbed up beside him.

“You mean, if I was a knight, you’d have kissed me?”

“Maybe,” she said with a faint blush as he got the horses going in the right direction, “you aren’t horrible to look at…”

[Mari]

There had been quite some time between the return of Jake and the blonde woman who Amari believed to be Isabella, she had some strange sort of relationship with the half elf. She seemed equally pissed yet smitten with him. The lady in waiting, who Amari now learned was named Andrea, was completely enamoured with Amari. She refused to let Amari go, and kept offering kisses and whispers of more primal things, but Amari sent both her and Isabella away.

She was tired. She was done with the night. She wanted nothing more than to curl up into a bed and sleep the rest of the intoxication away. And that is what she did. At some point, between the battles and bloodshed, between cleaning herself up, and climbing into bed, she must have mistaken which room was hers.

Soft sunlight kissed Amari's face, waking her up from a night of far too much alcohol consumption. She groaned as with it, came the undeniable headache of a hangover. She shifted to roll over but paused, she could feel something on her. No...against her. A hand lie idle upon her nude breast, a leg draped over hers, and the soft snores of a familiar half elf bristled her neck.

The fuck? Amari thought to herself. She hadn't slept with Jake, she was sure of it. So why the hell was he in her room? Groggy confusion quickly turned to anger.

"Oi.....OI!" Amari groaned, trying to sit up but the room spun fast around her. "Get the fuck outta my bed." She groaned as she shoved him away. He groaned and shuffled closer, his hand gripping her breast tighter. He burried his head into the crook of her neck, mumbling in his sleep.

"No, Isabella... I couldn't possibly eat another bite..."


He was dreaming about the damn noble woman. Amari took a deep breath then pushed him hard. He fell out of the bed and awoke with a start. "W-What!?"

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Amari hissed, one hand on her head, the other quickly covering her chest.

Jake seemed a little confused, he glanced down at his hand, mimicking the squeezing action as though he were trying to recall it. "But... this is my room Ama..ah...Red."


Amari groaned. She didn't care anymore. "If its your room, close the curtains and fetch me water." She muttered, grabbing a pillow and placing it over her face. She was too hungover to deal with this shit.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake grimaced and rubbed his head. After he'd delivered Isabella to the Knights of Scara Brae - and been soundly turned down by her - he'd drunk all the ale he could hold. He felt certain this was his room, but who could honestly recall. He stood unsteadily and staggered to the wall. His eyes thanked him as he slid the curtains shut, darkening the room considerably. He picked up the pitcher of water and poured a glass, downing it before pouring a second and carrying it to Amari.

“What’s that black mark on your chest?” He asked as she sat up and took a sip. The redhead sputtered angrily and crossed her arms, trying to fully conceal her naked torso. “Oh unstick yourself,” he muttered, “it’s not like I haven’t seen those before.” While the curvature of her breasts had always been eye catching, the dark three pointed star between them had drawn Jake’s gaze.

Amari scowled, and then dropped her arms and her gaze. “It’s a sign of my master,” She began, lowering the blanket as her fingers traced it. “It feels like a constant burn, a reminder he is always near. It grows hotter when he is close, or actively seeking me. Impossible to remove, unless he dies of course.”

“How can you call such a horrible man master?” Jake asked, before his alcohol-addled brain could stop him. He turned his back on Amari and leaned upon the nightstand so forcefully the water in the pitcher sloshed about.

There was a long silence before she finally spoke, her voice quiet and strained. No doubt she felt the same sickness he did. “You wouldn’t understand. No one sees what I see. Still… “ Her voice hitched, but instead of continuing she moaned, and he could hear the sound of ruffling blankets.

Jake took a deep breath and turned about. The Salvic woman had twisted the bedsheets about her form.


“I’m afraid...sometimes…” Her words came muffled from underneath her cocoon, a pillow shielding her head. Jake watched as her body tensed, her arms wrapping themselves around her tightly in a bid to either comfort or warm himself. Jake wasn’t sure.

The half elf sat on the edge of the bed and reached a tentative hand out to stroke her shoulder. “Maybe the fear is telling you something.” He made his voice as soft as he could, although he wanted to scream. She lifted a pillow, just enough for him to catch an attempt at a glare.

“You know we can always run away,” Jake reminded her, making a small flourish with his fingers, as if casting a spell on her glare. “Anywhere you wish is only a step away when you’re with me.”

“He knows where I am at all times, the mark acts as some sort of beacon. He’d torture me in front of you, then rip you to pieces. I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of myself” She slowly pulled the pillow away from her face and held it close.

Jake never knew quite what to say with Amari. Then we’ll have to kill your master, he thought. “I’m not afraid of you.” He said.

There was a long silence, Jake felt an ethereal tingle Amari sighed, and rolled over, facing away from him. “I blackout sometimes. I have fits of rage. I have strange urges sometimes, to actually see people suffer. Jake, you’ve known me a long time. You’re the only being who has seen me at almost every stage of my life. Even if you just run.” She added bitterly.

I should have taken you away.

She continued, “If I ever hurt you. If I ever become someone like my Master, I’m sorry.” Her words were garbled, weepy, and exhaustion clearly tugged at her.

“You won’t,” Jake promised her, although he had to force the words out. “I’ll always be your friend.” He touched her shoulder again, and she lay back down on the bed. “Get some rest now… Red.” She murmured incoherently, rolling into his warmth, her hands clinging to his sleeve in desperation. “It will all feel better after some sleep.”

[Philomel]

Name of Thread: Wing Woman of the Year
No Judgement

Jake Narmolanya receives:
925 EXP
99 GP

Mari receives:
1000 EXP
97 GP

Inclusive of Mari's 10 % GP bonus due to her noble commerce ability.

[Rayleigh]

All rewards have been added!