Sept Week 4 Art/Writing Challenge - Against the Wall

[One]

this challenge is open to any typical form of art or expression, including 2D, 3D, poetry and short stories.

i don't know about you, but this is one of my favorite positions both intimately and in RP. being up against the wall can mean submission or aggression - it can mean peril, it can mean passion. it can mean the army is breaking its waves against the walls of your Keep and your options are reduced to one; it might mean your belly is where you lose sight of your resistance first, where you begin to forget you were troubled by your own pride. be it love, war, the fulfillment of longing, or the point at which you can no longer deny .. whether you wrap your legs around it and gather it in, or turn your back and show the world just how strong you are.

as always, love to see variety! last week was all about the phallus and the splash, let's see how we can mix it up.

[Stormbringer]

Something different from me anyway - no tits!

[Liale]

I feel bad for that girl!

......I mean, normally you're supposed to wear padding under metal armour. Those greaves look like they could grind into the poor thing's.....*SHUDDER*

[Ehlanna]

My attempt ..

[One]

i love-love both of these, clearly you both thought about the whole subject when you posted!

[Fariday]

I can still have a go at it, can't I? If not, then it's just fun poetry.

Blood, sweat, adrenaline
The recipe of war
A warrior knows nothing less
And hopefully no more

The grasp of death reach out again
The shadows flare and tear
Cornered warrior with sword in hand
His blood and bone laid bare

Will alone will hold him high
And pride within his heart
For victory he'd not yet seen
He'd yet to do his part

His enemy with smiling glare
And bludgeon in his hand
Was confident of victory
For tribe and home and land

The warrior, back to the wall
Had hardly just begun
His enemy would raise his club
To fell the wounded one

The warrior would raise his sword
And give a mighty cry
And as the bloodred sun drifts low,
The crows take to the sky

[mozenwrathe]

*There are many things to fear within Belariath. Normally one of them is not earthquakes. Of course, there are places where the land is unstable, or the ground itself seems to demand appeasement from the locals. In those parts of the world itself, people tend to live differently. There is that "in the moment" way of living that most accept their lives to be in. Some of them, notably druids and mages of the earth and stone, are far less frightened by all this. Of course, the land itself will warn them a little earlier than others.*

But Such Would Be Pointless
by Ariaz Refinnej, lover of Shéyriöa and Ruidyynäh, worshipper of Neserva

There are many times in a dwarf's life they will find themselves in a bad situation. Most of them tend to circle around three things: goblins, coming of age around any group of elves, and trolls. Okay, I will freely admit that most races would consider anything to do with trolls of any type pretty bad. However, that is not the point. Being that I am not fully dwarven or fully one of the barbarian people, I have to deal with foolishness and threats from at least two different views. Not to mention I have not chosen a deity that most would find honourable, but it was Neserva who called to me, so I had no choice but to answer Her. Nature is a part of everyone's life, no matter whom they are or how important they find themselves in their small lifespan. I understand this, and therefore I do my best to do Her Will and abide by Her Wisdom. I will freely state that I have failed more often than I would have liked, especially when it comes to aiding some of Her Lost Children.

I remember one of the older folks of my town saying to me once "there's nothing more frightening than a dying soldier with her back against the wall than the sight of her lover trying to save her." Well, there was a time when I wondered if there would be anyone to come to save me when I was in danger. I do not remember the town's name now, only that it was far to the southern regions of the Ilfiran empire, but to the east of Adenfort. And I was not even in the town itself, but the ruins of the previous village that had stood there before. Something about it being haunted had called to me, and I went to investigate it. I know now there are some places you should not go to alone, but I was much younger then and still believed in my own immortality. Probably because anything that should have killed me so far in my life had missed me by whiskey and whiskers.

The village was quite a ruin itself, what with different houses of stone and wood rotting away and crumbling. It must have been at least thrice as old as I was with the condition everything was in. More like five times, as one rock I picked up just seemed to crumble with a little force to my fingers. Did I lose track of the time as I walked through the decrepit remains of what was once a thriving village. Within the trees themselves, one could not see the village clearly after three stones throws worth of distance. Perhaps that had been the original intent of those who wanted to live in such an isolated place. The forest itself here was not very large, but it was quite thick and clearly rich in life. Moss and lichen had grown already on a ruined longhouse made with logs presumably cut where the building itself stood. And, it seemed, a small tree was growing in the center of what used to be some stone cabin's main room.

It was then I heard the howling. Wolven, and more than one of them. I sought to find myself a place to hide within the ruins of one of the houses, but in my heart I knew that was of little use. The sounds of heavy footfalls would be echoing in my chest, my breathing all but stilled as I prayed silently to Neserva to preserve Her student and faithful worshipper.It seemed to be of no avail, for not but four of the great and terrible beasts had chosen to hunt me down and corner me. Knowing I was alone must had emboldened them, for not one of them looked as if they had eaten quite well in days. Fearing the worst, I cringed away from them, knowing I was by no means strong enough to fight of one of them, let alone all four at once. The leering and snarling was frightening to my young heart, for I knew nothing of what they were saying to each other.

Finally, the tallest of the lot moved towards me, tearing at my top to shred it with his talons. I had not thought to wear armour that day, so the fabrics I wore were rent easily. Those claws of his cut my skin some as well, opening little cuts upon my arms and bosom. The shriek of pain and shock from my lips must have excited one of them, for naked as he was, did I see his sizable length rise. I knew he was going to try to shove that monstrous thing into me, as did I know despair. I wanted to weep in horror at what my fate looked like it was going to be, but was I still too stunned to think clearly. Two of them approached me from the side, each of them reaching for an arm. The low growling and laughter from them showed me truly how pathetic they considered me. One of them went to paw up one of my breasts as the other slashed more of my blouse away, making sure to cut me a little more here and there just to hear my squeaks and watch me shiver.

Never let it be said by any wolven that they are some "true and noble race." Were these four as craven as any human or dark elf I had ever encountered. Knowing I was helpless before them, did they choose to become more brutal. The alpha male (as I would consider him mostly) backhanded me across my face first, and then against my breasts. He grinned as the other three dragged me away from the wall a moment then through me against it. My breath knocked from my chest, I found myself gasping for air that was not coming. My hands going to my throat, my eyes watered as that taloned hand struck me again on my thighs. The smaller two of the four once more grabbed my arms and pulled them hard enough that I could feel agony. They were so taut, my skin itself felt as if it would rip free. And here did the alpha's second now walk up and spit in my face, growling at me in his own language was had to be insults and statements to what my immediate future would be. He finished this with a few more open handed slaps to my sides and my breasts, clearly loving seeing them move by the force of his strikes.

And this just as tears were truly running down my face, a horn was blown loudly and not that far in the distance. One of the wolven pressed his muzzle against my throat with the starting whispers of what he and his friends were going to do to me once they returned. My blouse itself was no more than rags and threads against the ground, my leather breeches turned to leather strips in a similar fashion. Telling me not to move or worse would happen, the four of them scattered into the village itself. I was almost a broken woman at that point from the terror alone. Knowing they would return at any moment, I did not wish to stay and become their plaything and torture-pet. Though I knew they had threatened to do worse to me than what they already stated, had I no assurance I could even make it away from them alive. Gathering my few belongings that had been strewn across the ground, I did my best to bundle them up and hide them under some rubble. It was my hopes that they would just leave me alive and I could find my way back to the town I had left less than two days before and recover. Though were those hopes driven away when I heard the sounds of fighting. What I thought was just one of the wolven's allies announcing themselves had been anything but.

Some satyrs had also claimed this particular dead village as they own, and they were not pleased at the wolven seemingly honing in on their territory. What transpired next was something I couldn't fathom for the life of me, for I hid behind that wall in that broken and eroded excuse of what was once someone's home. The screams and howling I heard from the wolven were intertwined with the shouting and moaning in anguish of the satyrs. I knew my apparent saviours were satyrs only after the fact. When most of the shouts and cries were muted at last, I grabbed my quarterstaff and finally looked around the corner of the wall. There was one of the wolven, beaten and broken, trussed up like a sheep destined to be sold to the butcher. Another one of them was also bound in similar fashion, but hanging off of a broken pikestaff. The alpha male was nowhere to be found. His fate was not something cared to think about right then. As for the one that had been slapping me around the most? Oh, the satyrs had something special in store for him. Considering they had him bent over a tree stump and getting out what looked like some rather cheap wine, I knew that was one wolven I had no need to fear for now.

Two of the satyrs approached me, clearly looking me over as a possible addition to their spoiled. Hoping for the best, I explained I was a servant of Neserva and through her Gaea. The satyrs shrugged once, explaining the bounty on the four wolven would be more than enough to slake their monetary needs, but their sexual ones would still need be met. A clear threat to my being, but one I could hopefully evade. It was, however, decided by the one satyrs out of the seven that was leading them. His arms were wrapped in "candied" leather bracers, showing his wealth and his accomplishments. Telling the two others to step away forcefully, he kicked the wolven still on the ground. The coughing and wheezing showed the male was still alive, but was clearly wounded. The lead satyr's words to the two others were terse and without stutter. Tossing each of them a potion, they were to make sure that wolven lived... then they would be allowed to have their way with their prisoner. One of them was clearly more interested in me, but then the other satyr smirked and whispered something to the first, pulling out three gold chains. Nodding to the first one, the shorter and lighter coloured satyr mock-saluted their captain (as I assumed he was), telling the first and actually largest satyr there to throw the prisoner over his shoulder.

As that one was carted off, the lead satyr smirked at me some. His words to me were spoken soft and relaxed, though his phrases themselves left no room for misinterpretation. The wolven were to be tormented and used until his brethren had their fill. Only then would they be taken back to the town they had caused much strife and horror within. However, if I was still around by the time the moon rose, I would be considered fair game to be enslaved and kept as their sex toy - permanently. I was to leave everything behind, including anything I had tried to hide away for myself. Would the satyr give me a blood red cape with hood to cover myself in, but if I was found by his men again before the dawn of the new day... Well, satyrs had needs and other races lived to fulfill those needs.

Without any words from my mouth, did I nod mutedly in terror. This man was just as bad as the wolven, except he would not torture me - just rape me. He, his men, and whomever else he thought of loaning me to. That was the sort of male this lead satyr was. Honest in his domineering ways, at least. The cape draped over me, the satyr wouldn't hold himself above feeling me up from the front, stroking my sex with the heel of his hand. It was all I could do to not scream and flee right there. The cold smile on his face showed me he would give me the fairest of chances he could come up with that he wouldn't believe I would accept. Leaning into me, the captain of the satyr militia wrapped a spidersilk rope around my left wrist, knotting it thrice and then whispering a charm upon it. Knew I not what it was for, but I didn't care. He then lightly pushed me away with both hands on my bosom, flicking the nipples and smirking.

There and then, I turned around and walked away. The yelping and wailing of the wolven being thoroughly taken by satyr after satyr started to fade the further away from the carcass of the village I went. Once it was very quiet, I ran. I did not stop running all night, even when I crashed into trees and stumbled over roots. I could only think of making it back to town where the rest of my belongings were, not even thinking about the satyrs who even now could be hunting me. Them, or that wolven alpha male whom I knew nothing whether he was dead or captured. As the dawn rose, I saw the town in the distance. But feeling my legs wanting to give out, could only now I hear the sounds of pursuit. Cared I not to turn around, for fear of losing what little nerve I had left and surrendering to despair and dismay. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself forward and bolted. The steps growing louder, could I hear shouting in at least two languages I understood nothing of. The rage and the terror were the only things keeping me going. As I managed to get within sight of the guards, did I just shout I had lost all my belongings in the woods. That was solely to get their attention. Their weapons drew as they ran in my direction and then passed me by. The sounds of combat - now all too familiar to me - could be heard as I gasped and slammed face first into a wooden barn. I was inside the town's limits now, and thought myself safe from both the wolven and the satyrs. Still it was not enough for me. To the inn room I went, ignoring the laughing and outraged remarks of any who saw me. Once there, did I close the door and put the chair in front of the door. I do not remember how long I had passed out like that for, but when I awoke was I a sticky mess and still covered in blood and sweat from my ordeal. Grabbing my clothes from under the bed, did I throw the red cloak inside. A memento of my foolishness and the nightmares I would have for weeks to come because of it.

"One man's benevolence is another man's malevolence." Something I would recall later that evening once I had the courage to step outside the inn room. With what little funds I had remaining, I paid off the innkeep and had just enough left to cover my meal and some time at the public baths. Taking a private room for my own, did I lock it and bar it, keeping all of my things on the wall opposing the door. Even into the water itself I took a dagger and held it tight fisted. I was not going to allow myself to be taken by surprise again.

Of course, all of this was long before my first encounter with Shéyriöa and Ruidyynäh. Do they know nothing of what happened, nor will they. It was something I needed to learn from, even though some scars will never heal properly.