Diamander and Llisanya in New Halas. Advancing the plot. We also check up on Sprockfudle; that annoying little asshnole.
Warning: this includes a few homophobic in-character remarks.
It got dark early in northern latitudes. Llisanya waited in the blackness outside the Raven’s Roost while Diamander sat inside in the warmth and talked with his ex-boyfriend, trying to get him to see reason and end the slanderous utterances about things the former boyfriend had agreed by written contract to never mention.
Diamander needed to impress on his old flame that one cannot take the monthly remittance the Vishra family was paying for his silence and use it to get so drunk you would tell anyone who would listen about how his Vishra boyfriend had been stolen away from him by a “slut Wood Elf bitch named Cadwarra”.
Llisanya had already witnessed the amount of foolhardy loose-lipping that Diamander’s ex-bumchum had exhibited. She had sat there all afternoon in a quiet corner of the Raven’s Roost nursing a good quality mead and watching that faggot get slowly drunker and drunker until at last his quiet grumblings as he sat alone turned into loud proclamations of the injustice of the Vishra House. “They didn’t like him sucking my cock” he had loudly explained to no one in particular “so they got some little Wood Elf tramp to rape my boyfriend, hoping he would like pussy once he tried it.”
The jilted gay lover had seemed oblivious to the sneering homophobic remarks from a couple tables of locals as he continued his complaints. “She ducked the sexual assault charges by bribing the Jury with blowjobs is what she did! Tempting them with those big tits of hers as she gobbled on their pricks!” He had taken another long pull of ale then and continued, outraged at the travesty of justice. “They acquitted her!”
He had then staggered drunkenly toward a table full of well-dressed people who were trying to ignore him, hurrying to finish their meal and relocate to another pub that did not have such obnoxious patrons. “Her name was Cadwarra, you all. You ever get to Qeynos go ahead and fuck her...everyone else has!”
Halfway to the table, he tripped and fell over an empty chair as other patrons laughed and made cruel comments about his sexual orientation. He was already too drunk to care. He stood up and continued his rant to no one in particular. “Lemme tell you a few more things...Diamander likes the way I suck on his beautiful big dick. I do it better than that whore of a Wood Elf does it!”
By then, Llisanya had seen enough to get the measure of him; he was a fool who needed to shut up. She had slipped out of the tavern and headed back to the White Lodge to tell Diamander to deal with the problem. “I am pretty sure he will be there all night” she told Diamander “drinking away your uncle’s remittance. Go talk some sense into the blowhard.”
Thus Llisanya now stood outside the Raven’s Roost, waiting in her furs, cold despite their thickness. She wanted to go in and have dinner near the fire, but Diamander was in there, and she had decided that if things did not go well it was best not too many people made a connection between Diamander and Llisanya. Until this problem was addressed, she would best not be seen anywhere near Diamander. At least not in public. They would even return to their room in the Lodge separately.
Llisanya pulled her furs close and wished Diamander would come out soon and tell her that his former boyfriend had understood the concerns and had agreed to go back to his rooms, sober up and speak no more of the Vishra Family. She would be inside in thirty seconds having more mead and demanding to know why her dinner was taking so long. She would go soak naked in the tavern’s sauna and forget about things. She would cap the successful evening off by sucking on Diamander’s beautiful cock until it churned out a tumbler full of thick cum, sending it down her throat. She would spread her legs and make Diamander glad he was a man, thrusting back and forth in her wet twat.
She remembered the men in the Ice Breaker Bar on top of her, using her after Falkren was done. They had only wanted to stick it in and use her until they were done. That had been their right since they were paying, but she wanted a proper fuck. She needed Diamander to do it to her. She suppressed an irrational jealousy that Cadwarra was warm in Qeynos with Marshall Vishra visiting her every other night for a fuck. He would be pushing that magnificent schlong of his deep into Cadwarra repeatedly, handfuls of Cadwarra’s big boobs in his clutches. Playing with them while he sucked on her stiff nipples.
Llisanya kicked out in sexual frustration at a clump of snow, watching it shatter into a cloud of white particles. She got a grip on herself. She realized there was no use envying Cadwarra’s good luck. There was business to look after up here in New Halas. Diamander would soon be coming out and reporting he had straightened his ex-boyfriend out. Surely he would not be much longer.
Llisanya stood there shivering. She could smell Fårikal cooking. She wanted a whole trencher full of it. Buttery potatoes and roasted parsnips on the side. Skyr cheesecake for dessert! She would treat herself to some wine. She would forego the sauna and take Diamander home to feel his hard cock pushing in and put of her within mere minutes of locking their door, hot cum spewing into her snatch.
What was Diamander doing in there that was taking so long, leaving her starving and horny in the frosty dark? Llisanya amused herself by identifying constellations in the night sky but she only knew three. She grew bored.
Finally, Diamander exited the tavern. She could see things had not gone well. He approached Llisanya with a guilty look. As Diamander stopped silently beside her she simply asked “Well?’ She already knew what he was going to say.
“He refused to see reason” he told her, his tone defeated. “He said this wasn’t Qeynos and my Uncle couldn’t reach him here. He said he would say whatever he felt like saying...unless I came back to him.”
Llisanya was smart enough to see exactly what had happened next. She knew how men thought, even homos. She could see Diamander’s embarrassment. Her resulting accusation was sharp. “You sucked his cock, didn’t you!”
Diamander hung his head. As if Llisanya cared, he made his excuses “he was so jealous and so angry at my Uncle. I thought that if I sucked him off he would sober up a little and see reason.”
Llisanya suppressed an urge to slap Diamander. “My bare ass is there for you anytime you get the need” she rebuked him sharply “yet you wanted a cock to suck on?” He made no answer. There was no answer.
Llisanya typically had a great deal of respect for Diamander. He was competent in everything...everything that did not concern his homosexuality. He had stood up to a room full of Amber’s so-called friends, he had fought pirates, he had pleased both herself and Cadwarra and Coranis with that lovely hard-on of his and all those torrents of jizz. Yet, when it came to dealing with some sissy-boy, this self-confident young man had completely failed to accomplish the simple task his Uncle had assigned to him.
Llisanya felt nothing but impatience for Diamander’s stupidity. He had rewarded a drunk’s obstinacy by taking his hard prick in his mouth and sucking away. She had survived in a masculine world long enough to learn that you do not get what you want by sucking men off; you get what you want by promising to suck them off later.
While Diamander stared at the snow at his feet, Llisanya stood piecing together quite accurately what would have happened in the Raven’s Roost between Diamander and his fagboy.
She knew the tavern well. When things got busy in there...when too much alcohol was imbibed by too many hedonistic revelers...there was a corner farthest from the bar where the flickering lights of the torches did not penetrate. Llisanya had quickly realized that management deliberately kept it so.
Drunken couples, too inebriated to choose sex partners wisely, would slide unobtrusively into that darkness to enjoy their desires out of sight of a jealous girlfriend or cuckolded guidman. Hard cocks slid into willing pussies and the squeals or moans of the fucked female could be clearly heard as pleasure became orgasm. Perverts always sat at nearby tables to listen in and get their jollies.
On busy nights it was necessary to wait your turn to use the Dark Corner. Couples would stand there in line wishing the current couple in there would hurry up. They made stilted conversation with each other, trying to appear to be merely having stopped in passing to chat with a casual acquaintance. They failed to make it look anything remotely like that; everyone knew what each waiting couple was wanting to do when it was their turn.
Eventually the couple occupying the shadows would emerge, hastily redoing lacings and buttons while diligently avoiding eye contact with the couple now moving into the darkness to take their place.
Things got even more awkward when it was a same sex couple that took a place in line. Queers visiting from Qeynos or Kelethin would assume it was socially acceptable to openly indulge in such perversions in New Halas. It was a foolish pair of gays that would stand there for more than a minute waiting their turn while the locals made derisive jokes at their expense. Llisanya angrily imagined the smirks from the locals as Diamander was lead into the dark corner so he could fellate his faggy ex-lover.
Llisanya was frustrated to think how Diamander’s public actions had so sullied the image of the Vishra Family. He had just confirmed to a tavern full of gossips that everything his ex-boyfriend had been saying about his homosexuality was true.
And it wasn’t just the Vishra House that was getting hurt. Llisanya’s fortunes rose and fell as those of the Vishras rose and fell. No doubt by now Diamander’s Queer was in there telling every table how he had gotten a blow job from a scion of Vishra House, notwithstanding the deserving sneers he would be getting in response.
Llisanya imagined Fagboy’s drunken boasts, too full of ale to perceive his gay leanings made him the butt of jokes. “He gave me a blowjob! Did you hear that? You!...You at the far end of the bar? I got a blowjob from Diamander Vishra! He sucked me off! You at that table over there...you? Did you hear me? Diamander Vishra blew me! He loved it! He swallowed it all!”
Llisanya fumed. What a disaster! The whole attempt to keep Diamander’s gay life choices quiet had achieved quite the opposite result. Other actions were now necessary. It seemed Marshall Vishra had been right to send Llisanya as a backup plan.
As Diamander stood humiliated, pondering his failure, Llisanya tried not to show her temper further. Instead of everything being taken care of by Diamander, things were going to get messy. Instead of enjoying a nice dinner near the hearth, she would need to stand for hours in a dark alley waiting to do her job because Diamander had failed to do his.
“You need to head back to our room” she finally told Diamander in a clipped tone. “Wait for me there. I’ll need to handle things now.”
Llisanya’s words broke cruelly into Diamander’s guilty ruminations. Until then, he had not comprehended the ramifications of his failure to shut his former lover up. It only took a few seconds for him to understand the implications of Llisanya’s words. He looked at her in horror. “No...” he implored her “...let me talk to him tomorrow when he is sober. He’ll see reason.”
Llisanya’s answer was as cold as the New Halas night. “That is not an acceptable course of action. Your uncle’s written instructions to me were very clear in this situation. Go back to the Lodge, Lord Diamander. Leave me to handle this.”
Diamander, to his credit, pulled himself together. He knew it was not Llisanya’s fault. It had not needed to be like this had he done his job as required. He tried to think of another solution to the problem but could not conceive of any. Even if there was a different course of action he knew that Llisanya would not disobey Uncle Vishra. He summoned some dignity. He understood. House Vishra needed to be protected. “Don’t let him suffer” he quietly implored Llisanya. His voice cracked emotionally.
For the last few nights, Sprockfuddle had had the jail cell to himself. Tonight, the guards had brought in a High Elf prisoner newly arrived in Qeynos. He must have fallen on hard times. It was unusual to encounter a High Elf working in the pickpocket trade.
This fellow was not a particularly good pickpocket. He had not been patient enough to suss out how things worked in Qeynos before he began lifting wallets and cutting purses. A better thief would have ascertained which areas of the City were reserved solely for this or that gang to do their business. Someone did not like his trespassing on their territory and had quickly pointed him out to Penley’s Guards.
Understandably, Penley’s Guards had been rough. Pickpockets were like taxes; you had to tolerate them if kept at an acceptable level but one was permitted to be angry when they became a nuisance. Lucky for the Pickpocket, he landed on one of the semi-soft mattresses on a cot just inside the cell door.
“If you had not been so lousy at your profession” Sprockfuddle chided him rudely “you would not be in here wasting our stupid taxes.”
The Ne’er-do-well immediately realized that he was stuck in a cell with an Angry Little Asshole.
Sprockfuddle was glad of the opportunity for conversation despite the unacceptable increase in public expenditures. “I’m Sprockfuddle” he introduced himself.
The felon answered Sprockfuddle curtly. “Folks call me ‘Grabb’...G-r-a-b-b. You pronounce both ‘b’s.” He did not seem interested in volunteering more information about himself.
Sprockfuddle failed to perceive Grabb was not in a mood to chat. He spoke affably. “You should have been here last week, Grabuh-buh. We had a couple women in here with us. It helped to pass the time, if you follow me.”
“There’s none here now, is there” Grabb growled, not caring to converse with anyone about past pleasures. He was also annoyed at how poorly Sprockfuddle had pronounced the double-b in his name.
Sprockfuddle continued chatting, thinking his cell mate cared. “First there was this crazy Wood Elf....big bouncy boobs, let me tell you! She was in the other cell so she could only give me a bee-jay and a tit fuck. You could tell she really wanted a screw, though, but even my big dick could not penetrate into her cunt with those stupid bars in the way! But I sure had fun pulling and squeezing on those huge titties. She lay back on her bed and played with her clit until she came. Let me watch the whole thing.”
“Sure...” Grabb answered. He clearly did not believe any fantasies the garrulous Gnome was inventing about willing female inmates with impressive endowments putting on a show.
“She would not have accommodated just anyone” Sprockfuddle boasted to fill the silence “but she saw I had a big pecker, you see, so she was okay with me doing what I wanted with her.”
The High Elf looked Sprockfuddle up and down, taking in his full height of three-and-a-half feet and said sarcastically “big, are you?”
Sprockfuddle was not at all offended by his new cellmate’s vocalized doubts but was still anxious to set the record straight. “Well, I do have a big one! That randy Wood Elf loved my size! If those incompetent jailers hadn’t let her out before her sentence was served, we could both be sucking on her outsized tits right now, taking turns fucking her brains out!”
“Sure” was the monosyllabic reply from the other cot.
Sprockfuddle pondered what might have been. “Stupid jailers!” he muttered.
Grabb wished that the Angry Little Asshole would shut up. The talk of big Wood Elf tits was making him want a female to fuck. He had heard there was a pretty good brothel in town but he was stuck in there with nothing but a Gnome that would not be quiet.
“Anyway” Sprockfuddle went on, trying to be philosophical about the incompetence of the Queen’s jailers “the next slut was my co-worker. They threw her in here with me for crimes unrelated to our mutual business dealings.”
Grabb did not acknowledge Sprockfuddle’s latest statement, hoping Sprockfuddle would take the hint and shut up.
Sprockfuddle kept talking regardless. “My co-worker is this Dark Elf with a pubic thatch as white as the milk that was engorging her breasts. She claimed she did not want to screw. You know the type; one of those bitches that plays hard-to-get...pretending I was raping her just because she preferred me on top. Typical woman.”
Grabb pretended he was trying to get some sleep.
Sprockfuddle pulled out his prick just then and unashamedly began to jerk off to the memory of Cadwarra and Arabella naked. He wished he had one of those sluts to fuck right then. Instead of enjoying such willing poon, his hand flew up and down on his huge little three inch Gnome penis as he recalled how Cadwarra’s hooters overflowed in his hands.
Grabb was disgusted to see such self abuse being performed ten feet away. How had he come to this state of affairs? He had once been a minor Noble; a Baronet. A dalliance with the virgin daughter of a jealously vindictive Duke had ruined him. It was not his fault. The way she had used those young, taut tits of hers to coax him away from the main banquet hall. Once in her bedroom, the pokie nipples she exhibited when he unlaced her bodice misled him into believing no one would mind him taking her youthful virginity.
His resulting exile led to further disastrous setbacks as he traveled the roads homeless. Those roads had lead to the present situation; his sharing of a cell with an exhibitionist. If this was the way things were in Qeynos, he would be moving on as soon as he was released. If he had learned one thing in his misadventures, the girls were always prettier in the next town. He would regain his fortune in a better place than this sordid city of questionable morals.
Grabb had no sooner made himself that promise than the heavy door leading to the guards area was thrown open.
To Grabb’s relief, Sprockfuddle stopped whacking off. He let go of his immense little cock. The entire length, almost one quarter of a foot long, flopped down and slapped against his thigh. “Oh good” the pervert Gnome proclaimed ironically as the guards entered with dinner “Dinner! I do hope it’s porridge.”
Armstrong ignored the penis-pulling Sprockfuddle. He let his subordinates serve the bowls of porridge. He spoke to Grabb instead. “Your status as a Gentleman has been recognized, Master Grab-ub. We might have sorted this out sooner if you had given us your real name but we’ll keep calling you Grab-ub, shall we?”
“That’s kind of you” Grabb answered flatly. Why could no one pronounce his name correctly in this backwater town?
“Given such considerations” Armstrong announced “you have received a Royal Pardon for your petty thievery...provided you depart our Good City.”
“I won’t be leaving no more quicker than I can” Grabb promised, echoing a well-known song lyric from the well known Barbarian Bard Kris MacStofferson.
“That’s great to hear.” The Senior Jailer pushed a pile of papers and a pencil at Grabb. “You need to sign these forms. This one acknowledges your guilt...this one holds us harmless for any injuries sustained during your imprisonment.... this one agrees to your plea deal, quoted at the bottom of the page...”
Armstrong told himself not to glance over at Sprockfuddle’s little thing, still hanging out in full view. He knew he would start to laugh if he looked at it and he wanted to remain dignified while he completed the formal steps required before releasing Grabb back into society. “This is a waiver of your rights for a fair trial. Since you waive your right to a fair trial and therefore do not need the contents of your purse as proof of your misdeeds you authorize us to deduct 75 silver from your purse, to be divided amongst the jail staff...”
Grabb was not surprised that a bribe was being exacted but resented the size of it.
Armstrong droned on in a bored tone, explaining several more documents until he reached the last. “This one acknowledges that you will depart this City before the close of the gates tonight. You may pick up your weapons from the guards upon departure. They are holding them at the North Qeynos Gate.”
Grabb took the thick pile of papers, recognizing a chance to not to have to watch Sprockfuddle resume his self-abuse immediately after dinner.
A bowl of porridge was slapped down in front of Grabb as he started to read through the papers before signing. That would allow time for the steaming hot porridge to cool a bit.
“There’s no need to waste time scrutinizing the fine print, Grab-ub. I’ve already summed it up for you.” Armstrong gestured at the untouched bowl. “Finish your dinner, the gates close in forty minutes.”
Armstrong’s voice changed to reflect the clear warning he intended to convey. “Or you can stay with us indefinitely...like your little wiener-whacking friend, here, who just got another fortnight’s incarceration for disrespectfully jerking off in the Queen’s Facilities.”