Fantasy Seed of the Void

Author's Notes

For our next installment of Seed of the Void, Isaen must make his escape from the dark tower to his promised ship. But with the tower guard looking for him, how will be slip away? Who will he meet along the way?

This Chapter took a bit longer than what I would have wanted, but I actually have solid drafts for the next 2 already in works. Hope to get you all some good content. Would love to hear your thoughts/feedback on the story so far in the comments!

All characters herein are 18+.

As always thanks to the every trusty KenjiSato as my editor!

Flight of the Rook

Despite his snappy jump from the hole he had blasted in the side of the Board and Bard, and his impressive landing subsequently, Isaen had seriously fubared his leg. After climbing down from his lofty escape, he had a limp to contend with; all the while, keeping to the shadows and back allies of the Port level of the tower. He still clenched the hand cannon under his cloak, afraid he would turn a shadowy corner and come face to face with one of the hordes of guards he could hear searching for him.

Would it have killed the witch to give him some sort of cloak of invisibility? Or was this little endeavor of theirs on a budget?

Slinking around a corner, several blocks away from the inn, Isaen rested against a cool stone wall. The streets were chaotic, as more Red-capped guards mulled about, harassing all manner of passers-by in their search. They must be the 'adversaries' that Callista had warned him about in her note. But why did they take so long to track him to the inn? Why not when he was alone and vulnerable during his ascent?

Holstering the glowing blue and overpowered magical weapon, he winced as he grabbed his leg. The pain was radiating outward from his calf, no doubt his joints taking ill to his leap of necessity. He had something in his bag for such an occasion, but this was neither the time nor place. He needed to keep moving, the tower guard was tearing this place apart.

"Have you seen a man, dark looking, Wearing a cloak? An outsider?" A dozen paces away from Isaen's shadowy hiding place, a guard questioned several traveling yeomen with yellow cowls, each shrugging and shaking their vexed faces. The description was so vague that they pointed to every other dark character on the street that it described.

A frustrated guard whipped the dust from his red cap, as he scowled at his subordinates and threw his hands to order them to scatter. Red caps took heed and bobbed frantically throughout the crowd.

Grunting, and in a terse rebuke, the wart-ridden elder elder-guard passed on a warning. "Aight ya blunt-nosed jokers, but those who aid or hide him will be punished severely, be warned."

Of course, a warning to not aid someone who fit the description of half the occupants of the tower, did little but give them a story to tell over their next drink. The ever-busy yeomen scurried throughout the tower and simply couldn't be bothered worrying about anything but their deliveries. Looking off-put by the terse wagging of the guard's finger, some took off their hoods to not fit the visage of this wanted shadowy figure.

Isaen counted his lucky stars that the guards had not gotten a better look at him back at the Board and Bard. Clearly, he had some leeway, but by no means could he let his guard down. His eyes scanned for a quiet place to dig through his bag and tend to his leg. Should he be seen by the wrong set of eyes, his bag full of inconspicuous magical items would be an oddity for anyone and a dead giveaway. Best he should avoid all contact and stick to the shadows-- it had worked for him before, even before coming to this loathsome tower.

"Make way! Make way for the cappies!" A man, aloof in the middle of the street and stumbling around, drunkenly announced as a troop of guards marched through. A signature spear butt-end saw him on his ass with a gruff caw, but he followed it with a deep laugh, only a strong drink could allot.

They were incredibly serious about finding Isaen. At least the authorities were, the residents and those visiting seemed more miffed to be interrupted by questioning and the sudden appearance of more authority than they cared for. A noticeable few receded into the shadows like Isaen; those engaging in the illicit activities were often overlooked here, but they were the types to get nervous when too many guards were sniffing around. Surely, if the guards were frustrated enough, bringing smugglers or toxin peddlers to appease their superiors would lessen their rebuke for letting this mysterious dark figure slip through.

For Isaen, it meant that it was becoming harder to find his own secluded way, even the back alleys were crowded.

Passing through a few less-than-scrupulous characters gathering their shady wares into a sack with haste, Isaen reflected on whether his new employers had been had. Perhaps Cicero, Callista, Rolland, all of them were locked up in the pit as he had been. Their screams and cries at being jabbed with spearbutts, or worse, being tortured for details about Isaen. Isaen certainly didn't intend to meet that fate again. Despite his disappointment in losing a steady flow of gold coins, Isaen resolved to make it out with, or without, knowing their fate.

Regardless, no amount of chiding by Callista would have convinced him to be discreet quite like this party the tower guard was throwing him. Looking in his hand, at the wooden chip with the details of his departure from this dark rock, he needed to make a very discreet haste to his promised ship.

Through alley and gutter, across rock face, and amidst the dredge of society, he slinked along. It would be a painful and long distance before he found the docks where his fate beckoned him to depart. As he slipped into a vantage point above the wharf, the cavernous tower would expand. Beyond, lay many wooden platforms leading to the edge of the façade and the jetties that reached forth into the void. In the distance, lay in the berth, his ride, under the jetty marked with the crest of the setting moon, just as his token said. At the end of that branch, the freighter Gorgon was waiting.

A patchwork of metal, rivets, wood, and rust, the Gorgon looked like a daunting ride. Not that he expected luxury, only to make it to his destination without being sucked into the cold, black expanse around them. Though reflecting on the looming darkness of the Tamberan Voidhold above him, this stone monstrosity was in no better shape.

He was not alone in this departure, it seemed, as all manner of passengers and cargo queued to load onto the freighter bound for Minhaven. It was mostly travelers bound for the remote green lands flowing with seas of grass and crops. It was a famed place of refuge for those tired of the old world of Vetus and its rooted ways and terrors. Merchants sought to bring exotic goods to a land that lacked flare and spice, and where mothers swaddled babes in their arms, praying for a better life. Minhaven was a backwater, but there was peace, of sorts.

Perhaps, that's why Callista was sending him there.

Looking closely, there was a noted presence of Cappies at the mouth of the docks. Travelers seemed to have gained heavier scrutiny because of Isaen and his antics. Passengers, and cargo alike, were molested in the name of security. Much to their reputation, the Cappies were rather rough about it, as well. More than one would-be passenger voiced their protest of the overzealous groping they received. Their complaints landed on deaf ears, however. It would be difficult for Isaen to slip past this, not with so many looking for a character of his demeanor.

But it was not the Cappies that caught his eye. Tall figures, those who wore armor, regal and white, stood amongst the tower guards overseeing their efforts at harassing passengers-- Elves. Isaen recalled some of Callista's final words to him, "No Elves." Perhaps, these were the true enemy... what lot had he thrown himself in with?

Taking a deep breath, Isaen pondered his situation. A dark figure, an outsider, with a cloak. Isaen sat back against the wall. It was good a time as any, to try to find that pain-numbing brew that Callista had told him about. It, of course, was mixed in with the rest of the vials of potions, poisons, and elixirs he carried. All of them clanked around whenever he made pace faster than a trot. He had half a mind to sell off the majority of them to lighten his load. Or he could get a pack-beast upon landing on Minhaven.

The clanking of glass proceeded his producing the subject vile, holding a clear serum. It was strangely odorless. He checked the label more than once to ensure it was not the Sablevine. Not entirely convinced he had it right, but very sure he was in incredible pain, he took a long swig as he winced. All the sneaking had made his leg become a lightning rod of sharp sensations. He knew it wasn't broken, but that jump had not done him any favors.

Taking a long, sharp breath, he felt the sensation of sciatic pain subside as the potion worked its alchemic magic. Amidst the wash of pain relief and his labored breathing, he hadn't noticed the figure watching him from a distance, while creeping up behind him. His bag, at his feet, wide open and displaying all his rare and exotic implements.

"Yoink!" A swift hand grabbed the charged magic rod from Isaen's bag and made a dash down the alley away from the wharf. A comical cackle echoed along the rock face as they darted away.

"Fucking little runt!" Isaen saw the quick blur of a street rat make off with one of his most valuable magical items. It was a smaller figure, short and gaunt, wearing tattered clothes and unwashed skin. By the lengthy knotted hair waving behind it, he could tell it was a girl, but that hardly mattered to the wrath he felt. Thankfully, the pain had subsided enough he could make chase, grabbing his sack and dashing after the little bitch.

Weaving in and out of the alleyways and dark passages, over crates and walls, and around the occasional hermit cowering in the filth, the girl bolted. Isaen knew he would soon lose her if he did not act quickly. His hand reached for the hilt of his hand-cannon, but he thought better of it. Discretion... such a blast, no matter if it tore the little bitch into shreds, would attract a big scene. Instead, he had plenty of other tricks in his sack of wonders.

Fumbling as he tripped and stumbled around debris and leaping across a small wall, he grabbed for a scroll in his sack, as he managed to keep an eye on the thief ahead of him. She was stretching her distance ahead. Clearly, she knew these back alleys a lot better than he, using that to her advantage as she laughed and taunted him with every turn and leap.

"Don't count on catching me!" Her high-pitched tone was slightly winded as she sprinted down a straightaway.

Isaen pulled a scroll out and unfurled it. He hadn't actually seen a magical scroll before. As the parchment unfurled, he groaned, seeing words and incantations he needed to read to make the spell go off. At the top was a glowing seal that contained magical energy, and with the most rudimentary knowledge, he knew the first step was to place one hand on the seal.

He nearly toppled forward over a crate, trying to read and run at the same time. Reading, running, and keeping an eye on the thief ahead of him, was hard work.

"Atundium-bittidium-huhwhat?" He struggled with the appropriate hand motions and words, as he huffed and puffed. Even with the numbing potion working on his leg, he was still feeling a twitch of pain. His target, yards ahead of him, would soon be lost.

Coming around a corner, it was then or never. Isaen stopped in his tracks and pointed two fingers at the girl ahead of him. He waved his hand in a semi-circle, back and forth, before making an 'X' in the air, just as he remembered Cicero doing on Sherry's stomach.

"Antundanium! Bithodious! Arrat!" he yelled, confidently. A surge of energy traveled from the glowing seal through his body and out his fingers, a jolt of blue light striking the alley-rat square in the back. She fell face first, frozen, a loud groan her only sign of life.

Isaen nodded approvingly, looking at the paper that was nothing more than a blank parchment now. These scrolls were a bother, in all honesty, more the craft of some hedge magician than the normal man. In the haste of such need, it's better to have a crossbow or a wand as far as Isaen was concerned. Though, the latter surely limited his options of spells.

He tossed the now-worthless parchment aside, striding cooly up to his prey as he muttered his dissatisfaction with the whore that brought this thief into the world.

"This does not belong to you." He snatched the magic rod from her hand, as she lay face-first on the ground, smacking her on the side with it. Stowing it in his sack, he grunted as she began to shift in pain below him.

"Oh, so you are not dead. Pity, I thought that was a fireball or something that would incinerate you."

"Crazy... coot." She began to lift herself up, arms shaking as she struggled.

Grabbing her by the knotted and dirty brown hair, Isaen brought the smaller figure up off the ground and to eye level with him. Her legs kicked and scurried, as she was held off the ground.

"You know, I've been a thief, and I really hate thieves." The cold steel of one of the knives Callista gave him rested against the flesh of her underfed gut.

He looked her over some, his eyes falling across her skinny frame, flat chest, bony hips, and malnourished ass. Despite this, she had a cute set of cheekbones and big eyes that made Isaen reconsider disemboweling her right then and there.

"You know..." he looked her in the eye, bringing her feet down to the ground again; her brown orbs looked up in defiance. Isaen knew that type of defiance, it was pride in the face of fear.

"...You're a woman grown, I have something else for you as punishment."

Her cheeks went flush red as he spun her around and pressed her scrawny body against the grimy stone wall they lingered behind. The girl thief wore a patchwork of clothes, her bottom half covered in pants with holes and stitches abounding.

It took little for him to slip those down her thin legs. They were too big for her anyway. He lay a few swats against her rear and she gritted her teeth through each red mark he lay. Atwix her legs was a red set of lips adorned with a bush as knotted as the hair atop her head. But it still had a cute and breedable look to its folds, as he ran a finger along the slit. Isaen intended to take full advantage of her hole as some payment for making him use that scroll. His second quarry on his little mission.

Opening his pants, he felt the surge of the vitality potion still within the veins of his cock. He had no issue getting hard again, laying his thick cock against her trifling ass and rubbing it along her dirty skin. The pre-cum beading at his tip created swirls of filth on her flesh. It was soft skin, just that it had seen a rough time. This one would be a looker if she just was cleaned up. A shame he wouldn't be around to see it.

"Fuck you, wait just a minute!" the defiant tramp protested, as she began to challenge his grasp. While she may have been fast, even absent the effects of Isaen's scroll, she was far too small and weak to fend off Isaen, or his hungry cock.

Finding her tight slit, he wedged in as if he owned it. She gasped, as it made a dry entrance, writhing, as he pushed on, despite the resentment of her lips. In juxtaposition to how large Isaen was, she clamped down tightly around him, her neck muscles straining, as he stretched her. He groaned a bit, as he felt her pussy work overtime to moisten. It was hard to thrust, a fact that annoyed him as he roughly pulled himself in and out, in conjunction with her squeals. Yet, as he worked her cunt, she naturally became wetter, and the two of them moved easier. Isaen felt a stiff enjoyment as he looked down at her hairy lips spread in a comically wide way.

"Arrrrggh, you need to relax a bit, girl, you're going to squeeze the life out of me." He held her rats-nest hair stiffly as he pulled out roughly, feeling the flesh of her dry channel grab him at every inch.

Wordless, and with spiteful eyes from the rough treatment, she glared back at him as her face glistened with the runoff from the stone wall.

"Easy, at least I didn't slash you. You should be thankful." He pushed her head forward as he did her rear with his thrust, a sharp yell echoing around the alley, as a few destitute hiding in the shadows relocated to somewhere quieter.

She was like a puppet with a hand inside of her. But Isaen had to give her credit, she didn't cry. Instead, she gritted her teeth and growled at him, a feral little creature if nothing else. The girl had sharp eyes, a cunning, roguishness that Isaen could identify with. Taking a thick thrust, over and over, she would growl and grunt, her face grimacing and contorting with the pain of her stretching, but there was never a tear.

Bracing herself against the wall, she panted and groaned as he fucked her; her shoulders pressed against the stone as his heavy breaths grew deeper with each tingling simulation of her slit.

"You hold yourself well for a thief." He grabbed her messy knots and pulled her head back, forcing an arch in her small body.

Baring her fangs, she glared at him with eyes that could cut through armor. She could hardly talk, managing the pain of the large stranger inside of her, but there was little need to translate her disdain.

He felt around her body, bony hips feeling fragile in his hands, yet strong, muscular thighs were seasoned from her time in the gutter, running from those she stole. Along her abdomen, he could feel every muscle, his fingers teasing her belly button as they drifted upwards. At her chest, she had but nubs, though they felt cute enough to twist and pull, as he slickly pulled himself in and out of her.

A good meal was hard to come by; perhaps, with a mage in her belly, she could get a decent meal from his benefactors, and grow nice milkers. As he admired the juices of her cunt along his balls, he was envious of his eventual offspring that would feed from those fresh tits. He rubbed her chest in circles as he began to stir, a gasp from the thief-- a shared realization of what was going to come.

"No!"

She squirmed even more, feeling the throbbing of Isaen's cock between her skinny thighs. The prospect of being pregnant in the gutter of the Dark Tower was deadly, even Isaen wasn't sure if she would be protected enough by the magical gem around her neck. The idea certainly struck a chord of fear inside of her, she looked back in horror, as her previous target of thievery had ambitions of breeding her.

"Oh yes, you little cunt. I bet you never thought of this consequence." He slammed forward cruelly.

"Please... I'm just hungry! If I don't bring back enough, they won't feed me!" She could hardly get the words out between her face being pressed against the wall and his forceful strokes.

"Spare me, I've come from the gutter, you'll make do if you are worth the breath of your lungs."

"I... I can help you!" Her voice grew desperate, as she felt Isaen twitch, nearly at his climax as she stepped on her tippy toes as he held her hips.

"Help me? Bitch, you already are." Isaen cackled, as he wrapped his hands around her throat.

"You're the one-- eeeeeee! -- they are looking for, right?"

Isaen slammed inside of her spitefully.

"What of it?"

"You need... ahh! to get... ahh! out of this place? Yeah?"

"Got a ship between your tits?" Isaen felt between her flat nubs again, in jest.

She growled but grabbed his hand firmly. "No... but I know people... I know people at the wharf!"

Isaen slowed his thrusting, but did not completely stop, his cumming on a hair's trigger.

"Go on..."

"I've run tricks for the wharf-hands... I know who to talk to, to get on a ship... discreet-like..."

"There are Red-caps crawling all over the place. We won't even get close." He began to thrust forward with more intent again.

"I know! Eehhh! Ahhh! I know a way!" She gritted her teeth, as she knew he was about to burst. He was holding her firmly against the wall by the throat, as his other hand grasped her gaunt hip with frustration.

"So a little thief like you is going to show me, just so I don't cum in you?" He then sat still inside her, at the precipice, he could hardly hold himself from laying out his line.

"I want... I want out, too!" She began to tremble, both their bodies holding on through a month of intense anticipation.

"Out... out of this place?"

"Yes!"

The first tear he saw from her, trickled down her cheek as she looked terrified of what was loaded inside of her. It was as if the act of fucking was nothing, outside the idea of being bred.

"And what? I am just supposed to take you with me?"

She nodded, trying to breathe through the moment. "You have the coin... no one carries around a charging rod and doesn't have the coin."

"Maybe so..." A sly smirk ran across his face. He jerked her head all the way back with the hand that was upon her throat; she uncomfortably bent backward to look straight up at him. That keen sharpness was still there, perhaps the survival instinct that had seen her through her life in the gutters of a place where even the well-off were in danger.

"How am I to trust you won't just steal from me more? And run off?"

The girl's lip quivered, she didn't have a good answer to that question. Where once a belly of sharp comebacks existed she drew a blank, wondering if it would be the last before she felt her belly filled with someone else entirely.

Isaen chuckled, he pulled her off of his cock and with his hand slipping to her hair forced her to her knees. Then eyes to eye with his thick slimy member, she felt the explosion upon her, as ropes of stimulated and eager sperm erupted over her features, dust and dirt that stained her cheeks then washed away by his man juice. She jolted as he kept unloading onto her, his white gooeyness coating her from hair to neck as she squeezed her eyes shut, and counted this as a better fate.

After his cock had been spent, and her face was thoroughly lathered, he released her into a heap on the grimy stone alleyway beneath her. Awash with both the stun of the spell Isaen had unleashed on her, and the thorough fucking he put her petite and malnourished body through, she lay on the ground, coughing. When she had the energy, she tried wiping what sperm she could from her eyes and mouth, as unwanted salty morsels of his seed leaked into her lips.

"You want off this rock? I can sympathize with that." He loomed over her, ensuring his imposing frame and the silhouette of his manhood reminded her of just what power he wielded. "I'll take you off this rock. You hold your end of the bargain, and I'll pay your way onto the ship."

"Just like that?" She coughed, droplets of white goo ejecting from her mouth.

"No... oh no. I'll do you one better. I'll get you out of this place... you get us on that ship without notice, and we'll be off. But from there on out... you work for me..."

"Sod that..." Her face twisted with discontent.

"Oh? What better prospects does a rat like you have?" He looked around the filthy alleyway and up at the dark, looming, and shadowy cavern that was the tower.

Growling, she sat up, still cowering beneath his newly drooping cock.

"And what does working for you even mean?"

He bent down, over her small frame, and looked her dead in the eyes with a gaze that terrified her.

"It means anything I want you to do..." His eyes spoke of wrath should she reject his command. However, he was not wrong in that it was a better fate than to die in the slums of the Dark Tower in the black ocean of stars.

Isaen knew she was consigned to it, there were little other prospects for a girl like her. And nary a chance to get off of this rock. To be a stowaway meant a swift ejection into the airless chasm of the stars, and she could never gather enough coin to purchase her own way. She was a clever girl and had skills Isaen could make use of. With the power over her that he had, all he needed to do was seal it with a bit of positive incentive.

"But make no mistake, loyalty will be rewarded."

"Rewarded?"

"Yes. Do as I say, and I'll make sure you get some meat on your bones, see far more of the world than this rotting hole, and more."

She sat there, on her haunches, bare from the waist down, thinking of the prospect. A long moment would finally be crowned by a simple nod of her dusty, cum-covered head.

Grabbing her by the hair, he slipped a knife against her throat, the shining blade like lightning.m"Steal from me again, and a cock is the least of your worries."

Her eyes were solemn; he felt that given her options, he could take her word... for the time being. He let go of her, his cock still hanging before her, as he stared down at his new lackey.

"You're a comely little thing, I am eager to see you washed up." He squatted down and patted her on the head.

Her body shifted forward, and as if to prove her loyalty, she took his dripping cock into her mouth and washed it with her spit and tongue. Her eyes remained closed as she soaked him up and down, though she didn't dare take his full length, she managed to clean him up nicely before sitting back on her haunches, and wiping her face.

"Mmmm, good girl," he praised her, while reflecting on how nice she might be to have around.

"Here, clean yourself up, we have a ship to catch." He tossed her a cloth from his coat pocket, the girl eagerly wiping her face. Even with his sperm as a lather, her face cleaned up nicely. Her skin was soft and youthful and her features were easy on the eyes. Truly, with a wash, this one may be hard to keep off of.

"You have a name, girl?"

"Rook."

Isaen furrowed his brows in a bemused expression.

"That's... at least what they call me."

It was certainly not the nickname he would have thought for her. A rook is a bulwark of strength and size, the castle of power. This little woman certainly didn't give off such a vibe, aside from her steely will. But as he looked into her eyes, fishing for her real name, he could see why such a personality would warrant it.

"Rook, huh? You certainly gave me such airs as I first entered you, nary a whimper or tear."

She glared up at him, though this time, with a hint of playfulness.

"Eris... Eris is my name."

"Eris..." He let it slide smoothly off his tongue. He held his hand out for her, pulling her up to her feet. She stood hardly at his chest in height, still her eyes looking up towards him. Her bottom half was still naked and glistening, Isaen could hardly help himself, but to pet her hairy slit.

Eris shivered as his hand slid across her womanhood again, but knowing the order of things in her life now, she stood resolutely before him and allowed it.

"Well, Eris... like I told you... there is a whole world to see. Be loyal to me, and I'll make sure you see it with enough food, drink, and coin to make this a true adventure." His hand retreated from her sex and tucked himself away into his own trousers.

While loose fitting and in tatters, she slid her own patchwork trousers up along her waist again, cinching a small string atop her hips to hold them up.

"We have little time." His eyes wandered down the alley towards the wharf. "Now it's time for you to hold up your end." He teased her chin with his finger before following his wary employee down the dark alleyway.

"We need to get you new clothes..."​