Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Fikumin Flintfoot
Gift of Blend
Vegetables, mostly fresh and mouldy cheese that was once, mostly yellow.
A couple of old marshmallows, his last two.
A bit of stolen butter from Dante’s supplies and biscuit bread, now stale.
Dry salted pork, also stolen from their mules, hard as his boot’s old leather sole and not as flavorful. Fikumin smiled at the memory. The next moment he bit down hungrily, eyes watering at the taste. Almost a great hoagie, he thought chewing slowly, bits and pieces dropping from his mouth.
He could hear parts of their group’s conversation in the background, but he was at least thirty meters from them, hidden behind tall bushes and silver-barked Birch trees right at the river’s banks, their vibrant orange egg-shaped leaves creating a canopy that offered him a decent enough shade, so he quickly gave up and tuned them out.
Fikumin kept chewing slowly, before swallowing his meal, enjoying the serenity of the spot. Much better than staying near the road, he thought, his eyes following the flow of the river’s waters, listening to the insects buzzing all around and the birds flying over his head. He got up to have some water, made one step forward and heard a branch snapping not two meters from where he was, thank you Luthos, so he turned tail and rushed inside a tall bush, hoagie still in hand.
The boy and the Gish appeared a moment later, Glen sporting a frown on his face and Jinx appearing bored out of her wits.
“I saw her slipping away, then puff… gone,” Glen said, sounding annoyed. “How does she do that?”
“It should’ve told ye something,” Jinx replied, turning to look towards his spot, so Fikumin had to roll away and run behind a tree trunk. He breathed once, trying to calm down.
“Tell me what?” Glen asked.
“She wanted to be left alone?”
“For what reason?”
“How should I know? Take a piss, make a bigger deposit?” She thought about it some. “Finger her cunt?”
“For fuck’s sake Whisper!” Glen retorted in shock.
“Call me Pretty. And I stand by me words.”
“Bullshit, you’re trying to excuse… the fuck are ye doing now?”
Fikumin heard the Gish walking on the other side of the tree he was hiding behind and started climbing upwards in panic, after he secured the hoagie in his mouth. It was quite a feat reaching the thick branch at its mid-point, without falling and breaking his neck, but its leafy twigs hid him from the ground decently.
“I heard something,” Jinx said. “Not her.”
“An animal?” Glen chanced, sounding disappointed.
“Hmm.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
Glen sighed exasperated.
“I’m going back,” He decided. “This is pointless.”
“Uhm,” Jinx murmured, not as sure.
“Yer doing it again!”
“You didn’t hear that?” Jinx asked him. “This scratchy sound?”
Fikumin stopped chewing, his eyes ogling as he tried to swallow, a large piece of pork almost killing him, as it went down.
“I don’t hear shit!” Glen snapped, all furious.
“Pfft, let’s go. Yer deaf on top of fuckin’ worthless,” Jinx replied. “Don’t be all sad about it, might give ye a pity fuck to get her out of yer mind.”
Fikumin chanced a look at the unlikely duo walking away, moving a small branch out of the way.
“You will?” Glen asked, pretending he didn’t care either way.
“Nah.” Jinx replied casually, figuring him out.
A long fit leg touched the branch Fikumin was standing on, the moment they disappeared from sight. Another one coming to rest next to it, a moment later. Wet and naked, water running down and creating dark spots under the well-shaped feet. The branch barely moving, when she did.
Fikumin raised his eyes slowly, taking in her perfect thighs, the color of her mound same as that of her long hair. The way her flat stomach rippled, when Lithoniela stooped over him, round breasts dancing and her lips crooked in a naughty smile, he probably imagined, but it was enough to cause a certain part of his body to wake up.
“What are you eating?” She asked, sitting next to him, unbothered by her nakedness.
“A hoagie?” He croaked trying to hide his erection and almost falling from the branch in the process.
The pretty Zilan wrinkled her small nose.
“I’m not that hungry,” She decided with a sigh.
Fikumin nodded and glanced at the direction of their camp.
“They are my allies,” Lithoniela added, guessing what he was thinking.
“Are they?”
She thought about it some.
“Most of them. Though I can’t walk naked before them, or show my face. They don’t have your restraint.”
“Ahm, I could hunt a rabbit, make a stew,” Fikumin offered quickly with a blush and she laughed throaty at that.
“The day I’ll eat something cooked,” Lithoniela said, when she came around. “Fikumin shall be named king of all the Folk.”
Her stomach made a sound, probably not agreeing with that and Fikumin stared at his half-eaten meal thoughtfully.
“There’s some cheese in it,” He offered after a quiet moment.
“Dante’s?” She probed. It seemed everyone knew about the mercenary’s stash.
“Ayup.”
“Give me a small piece.”
Fikumin dug out the biggest piece he could find. It was a bit chewed on the top, but other than that, it was perfectly fine. She didn’t seem to mind at all and gulped it down in one go. Fikumin found it very impressive. Also extremely arousing. But it was neither as impressive, nor as exciting as her using the Gift of Warmth to dry herself up, before climbing down.
Or watching her braid her long hair into an elaborate bun, so they won’t give her away.
That was pretty interesting too.
An hour later, he stood next to her, the fully dressed now Zilan towering over him and watched as their caravan prepared to resume their journey. They were still hidden behind the trees, but they were about to join them.
“What’s in Hellfort?” Fikumin asked.
“I don’t know yet.” She replied, raising the hood to cover her head.
“But Glen does?”
“Glen is looking for treasure.”
Fikumin nodded. It was a noble undertaking.
“What about the dagger?”
Lithoniela took a sharp breath, and let it go slowly. It gave her time to think about it some.
“It will force him down a path,” She said after a time, mouth tense. “Place power in his hands, or kill him in the process.”
“Hardly sounds like a prize.”
“It’s not.” Lithoniela agreed. “He did find it though. Everyone thought it lost, since Reinut last wielded it. It will create chaos and that will bring opportunity. Whether it is for good, or bad. I don’t know.”
Fikumin raised his eyes.
“Is that what you want?”
But the Zilan didn’t answer. She never did, when he probed on her intentions. Lithoniela opened her cape instead and he walked between her legs. Then moving like one, they got out of the trees and headed for the caravan.
One could see his small legs under the cape, if he looked carefully, but no one did. The same was true for the bulge at the front, but again no one did. There was a spell that made things difficult to notice, Lithoniela had explained to him back in Castalor. She called it the Gift of Blend, one of the three main spells one learned, to master the greater Gift of Stealth.
“Has anyone ever mastered it?” He asked her, his voice a whisper, when they were back on her horse.
“Very few had in the past. It was never something one would advertise,” Lithoniela replied in the old tongue. “Not that it matters now. All of them are gone.”
“You are not,” Fikumin said, parting the cape to see the road. He saw a lot of the horse’s head, but not a sliver of road. It didn’t let that deter him. He was Fikumin Flintfoot, the fastest of the Folk. Dealing with problems was his specialty. “Since I found you and I wasn’t even looking, we will find more of your kind. I’m a priest of Luthos, luck is on my side. You’re a Zilan, luck is in your blood.”
“Can luck make something, out of nothing?” She hissed now angry, ending their talk.
Fikumin heard Luthos laughter rang all around them and shook his head at her shortsightedness.
The Zilan was skeptical and it remained so, despite his efforts to convince her during their ride. Whether it was luck or not, their journey was uneventful and they reached the wooden bridge that lead across the Teid River, two days later.
Some locals greeted them as they passed by, but no Zilan, much to Fikumin’s chagrin. It will be some time yet, before they’d meet one in the flesh. Although had they being given the option at that time, they’d probably chosen not to.
Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Fikumin Flintfoot
Gift of Blend
Vegetables, mostly fresh and mouldy cheese that was once, mostly yellow.
A couple of old marshmallows, his last two.
A bit of stolen butter from Dante’s supplies and biscuit bread, now stale.
Dry salted pork, also stolen from their mules, hard as his boot’s old leather sole and not as flavorful. Fikumin smiled at the memory. The next moment he bit down hungrily, eyes watering at the taste. Almost a great hoagie, he thought chewing slowly, bits and pieces dropping from his mouth.
He could hear parts of their group’s conversation in the background, but he was at least thirty meters from them, hidden behind tall bushes and silver-barked Birch trees right at the river’s banks, their vibrant orange egg-shaped leaves creating a canopy that offered him a decent enough shade, so he quickly gave up and tuned them out.
Fikumin kept chewing slowly, before swallowing his meal, enjoying the serenity of the spot. Much better than staying near the road, he thought, his eyes following the flow of the river’s waters, listening to the insects buzzing all around and the birds flying over his head. He got up to have some water, made one step forward and heard a branch snapping not two meters from where he was, thank you Luthos, so he turned tail and rushed inside a tall bush, hoagie still in hand.
The boy and the Gish appeared a moment later, Glen sporting a frown on his face and Jinx appearing bored out of her wits.
“I saw her slipping away, then puff… gone,” Glen said, sounding annoyed. “How does she do that?”
“It should’ve told ye something,” Jinx replied, turning to look towards his spot, so Fikumin had to roll away and run behind a tree trunk. He breathed once, trying to calm down.
“Tell me what?” Glen asked.
“She wanted to be left alone?”
“For what reason?”
“How should I know? Take a piss, make a bigger deposit?” She thought about it some. “Finger her cunt?”
“For fuck’s sake Whisper!” Glen retorted in shock.
“Call me Pretty. And I stand by me words.”
“Bullshit, you’re trying to excuse… the fuck are ye doing now?”
Fikumin heard the Gish walking on the other side of the tree he was hiding behind and started climbing upwards in panic, after he secured the hoagie in his mouth. It was quite a feat reaching the thick branch at its mid-point, without falling and breaking his neck, but its leafy twigs hid him from the ground decently.
“I heard something,” Jinx said. “Not her.”
“An animal?” Glen chanced, sounding disappointed.
“Hmm.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
Glen sighed exasperated.
“I’m going back,” He decided. “This is pointless.”
“Uhm,” Jinx murmured, not as sure.
“Yer doing it again!”
“You didn’t hear that?” Jinx asked him. “This scratchy sound?”
Fikumin stopped chewing, his eyes ogling as he tried to swallow, a large piece of pork almost killing him, as it went down.
“I don’t hear shit!” Glen snapped, all furious.
“Pfft, let’s go. Yer deaf on top of fuckin’ worthless,” Jinx replied. “Don’t be all sad about it, might give ye a pity fuck to get her out of yer mind.”
Fikumin chanced a look at the unlikely duo walking away, moving a small branch out of the way.
“You will?” Glen asked, pretending he didn’t care either way.
“Nah.” Jinx replied casually, figuring him out.
A long fit leg touched the branch Fikumin was standing on, the moment they disappeared from sight. Another one coming to rest next to it, a moment later. Wet and naked, water running down and creating dark spots under the well-shaped feet. The branch barely moving, when she did.
Fikumin raised his eyes slowly, taking in her perfect thighs, the color of her mound same as that of her long hair. The way her flat stomach rippled, when Lithoniela stooped over him, round breasts dancing and her lips crooked in a naughty smile, he probably imagined, but it was enough to cause a certain part of his body to wake up.
“What are you eating?” She asked, sitting next to him, unbothered by her nakedness.
“A hoagie?” He croaked trying to hide his erection and almost falling from the branch in the process.
The pretty Zilan wrinkled her small nose.
“I’m not that hungry,” She decided with a sigh.
Fikumin nodded and glanced at the direction of their camp.
“They are my allies,” Lithoniela added, guessing what he was thinking.
“Are they?”
She thought about it some.
“Most of them. Though I can’t walk naked before them, or show my face. They don’t have your restraint.”
“Ahm, I could hunt a rabbit, make a stew,” Fikumin offered quickly with a blush and she laughed throaty at that.
“The day I’ll eat something cooked,” Lithoniela said, when she came around. “Fikumin shall be named king of all the Folk.”
Her stomach made a sound, probably not agreeing with that and Fikumin stared at his half-eaten meal thoughtfully.
“There’s some cheese in it,” He offered after a quiet moment.
“Dante’s?” She probed. It seemed everyone knew about the mercenary’s stash.
“Ayup.”
“Give me a small piece.”
Fikumin dug out the biggest piece he could find. It was a bit chewed on the top, but other than that, it was perfectly fine. She didn’t seem to mind at all and gulped it down in one go. Fikumin found it very impressive. Also extremely arousing. But it was neither as impressive, nor as exciting as her using the Gift of Warmth to dry herself up, before climbing down.
Or watching her braid her long hair into an elaborate bun, so they won’t give her away.
That was pretty interesting too.
An hour later, he stood next to her, the fully dressed now Zilan towering over him and watched as their caravan prepared to resume their journey. They were still hidden behind the trees, but they were about to join them.
“What’s in Hellfort?” Fikumin asked.
“I don’t know yet.” She replied, raising the hood to cover her head.
“But Glen does?”
“Glen is looking for treasure.”
Fikumin nodded. It was a noble undertaking.
“What about the dagger?”
Lithoniela took a sharp breath, and let it go slowly. It gave her time to think about it some.
“It will force him down a path,” She said after a time, mouth tense. “Place power in his hands, or kill him in the process.”
“Hardly sounds like a prize.”
“It’s not.” Lithoniela agreed. “He did find it though. Everyone thought it lost, since Reinut last wielded it. It will create chaos and that will bring opportunity. Whether it is for good, or bad. I don’t know.”
Fikumin raised his eyes.
“Is that what you want?”
But the Zilan didn’t answer. She never did, when he probed on her intentions. Lithoniela opened her cape instead and he walked between her legs. Then moving like one, they got out of the trees and headed for the caravan.
One could see his small legs under the cape, if he looked carefully, but no one did. The same was true for the bulge at the front, but again no one did. There was a spell that made things difficult to notice, Lithoniela had explained to him back in Castalor. She called it the Gift of Blend, one of the three main spells one learned, to master the greater Gift of Stealth.
“Has anyone ever mastered it?” He asked her, his voice a whisper, when they were back on her horse.
“Very few had in the past. It was never something one would advertise,” Lithoniela replied in the old tongue. “Not that it matters now. All of them are gone.”
“You are not,” Fikumin said, parting the cape to see the road. He saw a lot of the horse’s head, but not a sliver of road. It didn’t let that deter him. He was Fikumin Flintfoot, the fastest of the Folk. Dealing with problems was his specialty. “Since I found you and I wasn’t even looking, we will find more of your kind. I’m a priest of Luthos, luck is on my side. You’re a Zilan, luck is in your blood.”
“Can luck make something, out of nothing?” She hissed now angry, ending their talk.
Fikumin heard Luthos laughter rang all around them and shook his head at her shortsightedness.
The Zilan was skeptical and it remained so, despite his efforts to convince her during their ride. Whether it was luck or not, their journey was uneventful and they reached the wooden bridge that lead across the Teid River, two days later.
Some locals greeted them as they passed by, but no Zilan, much to Fikumin’s chagrin. It will be some time yet, before they’d meet one in the flesh. Although had they being given the option at that time, they’d probably chosen not to.
