Legends of Belariath
The Quest For The Baron's Silver
Layne – Fourth Chalice
Layne is a young elf of around 5’ 9” tall. Slender frame yet well knit body. His complexion was flawless, his skin smooth and pale. His features were perfectly molded, sharp chin, high cheekbones that were tinged by a soft hue of green, long pointy ears that also carried the same color over the tips, lips that were soft and naturally moist. Yet, what seemed to be more alluring, unnaturally alluring, were his eyes. Deep set, almond shaped, the color of lavender, the pupils black, the irises encircled by a ring of shadow, yet bright and shinning with the luster of youth. His hair, luxuriant, thick, long, it was like a tapestry woven of silken threads of sunshine, gleaming with golden hue.
The young elf woke up early that day within the shelter of his tree house. A big yawn escaped him as he stretched his limbs. He was feeling quite up for the task of getting a job this day, well perhaps not a job, but some sort of work. In his rogue demeanor, this elf did not believe in work, he thought life was to be enjoyed, and a restricting job, with long hours, strict schedules was not for him. But there were always other ways of gaining income. So his first choice today was to head over to the Bounty Hunter’s Guild to check on any interesting post.
As he reached the fine establishment, the elf searched through many of the “I need my kitty back… “ “I want my pecker back.. “ and all those people who either lost body parts, or their pets. Finally, something caught his attention, a post of a “Baron”.. yes a “Baron” lost something, silver wear. “Hmm.. this looks interesting” he said to him self while he stroked his chin gently with one slender pale hand. Almond eyes squinted to read through the message, widening at the reward offered “One hundred!” he exclaimed excitedly. So he turned on his heels heading back to the forest, which worked as his home and was very accustomed to dwell there, the fabrics of his forest green cloak swayed gracefully behind him.
The elf immersed himself into the woods, the forest green garments blended perfectly in this place. Leather boots pressed against the lush green grass that carpeted the place. The elf had to keep very alert for any signs that would point to the whereabouts of the goblin band’s camps. He stopped at a nearby tree to check on his equipment. The leather straps to his Studded leather armor were tightly tied, no loose ends. His trusty scimitar was sheathed and strapped to the belt surrounding his hips. He pulled it out, and made a few training slashes, the curved blade seem to cut through the wind with a whistling sound. These would be his limbering exercises. He stretched his hands, arms and legs, as well as his neck. Satisfied with this warming up exercise the elf vaginated his blade.
After the brief workout, this young elf moved over to sit at the base of an oak tree, beneath its canopy. His back comfortably resting over the rough surface of the tree’s bark, yet it felt good and even useful, as he scratched a little itch from between his shoulder plates.
Idly, the elf brought his hand to his sharp chin and gently stroked it. Sitting there, thoughtful, when suddenly he abruptly rose on his feet, an idea, a plan had formed within his head. Lips curved again into a confident soft grin. So he dashed off towards the inn.
The double set of doors got pushed open as the graceful figure of the young elf entered the place. Usually, he wore the cowl of his cloak over his head, but this time he did not. Almond shaped eyes glanced around the room briefly, quickly looking towards the bar area finding the tender working this shift. The confident grin widened even more. Again he roved the place with slightly squinted eyes, he was searching, thinking, biting his lower lip. And he found exactly what he needed, a booth filled with people of different races. A barbarian, a dwarf, and a Drak Sen. “Yes.. they seem the type to drink until they pass out” he thought to him self. So without further waiting, he walked towards the bar tapping the counter top with drumming slender long fingers “Bob!” he calls out to the tender “These guys are thirsty!.. Give me a keg of ale, fast! They’re so thirsty the will drink our blood if I don’t bring it to them fast! “ The bar tender shot a side glance at the bunch, yes they looked the mean type, so without any questioning he went to the back and came with the keg of ale “Here you go. I don’t want to loose my other pinkie!” said Bob, and wiped some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The elf lifted surprise brows, wondering he perhaps spotted some real cut throats! It was best he made his exit now and fast. So he picked up the ale and ran swiftly to the exit, pushing through the double set of doors and heading back to the forest at a steady running pace.
Things were going according to plan, he had successfully acquired the ale, well, stolen it. Now the next part would be to track down goblins. Elves, sylvan elves, were good woodsmen, he knew well how to travel through the woods, how to hunt, and track down creatures. Layne glanced up at the sky, and noticed the sun would soon fade, he would have the advantage of stealth he thought and moved towards the northern side of the forest. The small post on the Bounty Hunter’s Guild mentioned the camps were scattered on the forest to the north of the inn. The chaotic nature of goblins would certainly mark the places where they have been on.
The night soon fell over the forest, the young elf was yet to find any trail of the goblins, he continued on, walking by the tall trees that surrounded him. Trees whose bark was tipped with silver lifted their branches in the pale moonlight, in graceful arcs, as if they reached for the moon. A profusion of broad leafed bushes lined the path Layne chose to walk on, leather boots softly stepped over the lush green carpet of grass, with silent movements. The elf within his natural surroundings, was nothing more than a shadow, a silent shadow roaming across the depths of the forest.
He roamed the land picking up herbs from here and there, coming to rest by a small brook; the elf took two flat stones and crushed the herbs. As he gathered them together, he carefully added them to the barrel of ale. He smiled as things were going according to plan, he intended on having the goblins drinking the ale, he had just prepared a heavy dose of a sleeping potion with the herbs he collected from the forest. The elf at his camp used them to help elves when they had injuries, it helped to ease the pain by numbing their senses. But when one was not injured, it would make you dizzy and sleepy, exactly what he had planned for the pack of goblins.
This night the sky was clear, the air was soft and warm. It had been a long day, so he decided to set up camp by gathering some leaves to use as a cushion for a bed, and covered him self with some skins. He couldn’t sleep, he tossed and turned and still could get no sleep. He sat up and removed his shirt, tossing it to the side. Again he laid down trying to catch some sleep. For long moments, all he could do was stare up at the sky, at that beautiful black blue indigo sky. The night had its very own heart piercing beauty. The stars blazed above with fierce brilliance, night flowers opened their petals to the starlight, scenting the warm darkness with their perfumes, while their luminescent glow filled the forest with a soft silvery white light. Eye lids felt heavier, his thoughts were hunted by the excitement of the battle ahead, yet something had him feeling strange. An urge coming from the very core of his groin, a fierce fire that could not be satisfied by sleep alone. Suddenly, a beautiful sound came to his sensitive ears. At first, startling him and getting him to seat up right. His heart pounded, ears twitched, eyes blinked and glanced around. He now could recognize the sound, it was a song, a song from a female voice, enchanting, lovely, soothing. It was a chorus, it spoke of nothing, or no words, it was like a single note, a single word that only changed tones. Abruptly he stood up, taking his scimitar with him. He hadn’t noticed, but perhaps he fell asleep, he could feel his body moist from sweat. The elf crouched and sneaked through the woods, moving as silently as he could, following the sound of the enchanting chorus. Soon enough, he found the source, a beautiful female figure poised over a rock by a clear water pond. The elf had been drawn here by the melody of her song and was now rewarded by the sight of its creator. A nymph, known as a Naiad. She was beautiful, looked in appearance to be of recent adulthood. Clad in her own long, silken, pale blue hair cascading in waves over the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders and down her slender back, swept back from her delicate features as if always wet., slender fingers were raking through threads of hair with fluid movement, and effortless grace. Yet every movement, every gesture, every soft sigh alluring, intensely arousing. Her tender young body, sleek, voluptuous, bestowed with an amazing hourglass figure; large, sumptuous breasts, bulging round swells of firm, supple flesh, fill out her chest abundantly. Layne’s eyes opened widely, blinking a few times as he could not believe what he was seeing. That urging feeling from within his groin, now felt even stronger. The large member shielded beneath his breeches began to rise and harden. Determined, eyes slightly narrowed, he took a step forward, presenting him self to the nymph. –Hello- he said with a soft whisper that caused the nymph to startle. She turned with wide eyes towards him with slender, perfectly etched brows arching slightly above soulful, sensuous, ice-blue eyes; deep, shimmering crystalline pools of shy innocence that peer out from beneath the long, dark, sweeping silken lashes, beckoning suggestively, seductively, yet glimmer with childlike curiosity and naivete. Layne took another step closer to her, keeping his eyes set over hers, soft smile curving up his lips. She stood not moving under his unblinking gaze, and a tremor of fear, or is it excitement, quivers along her spine. For what seems an eternity neither of them speak nor move. She is riveted in place by his eyes. They seem to reach out and hold her immobile. They stood there in front of each other, their breathing rising, eyes locked together. With a fluid movement, the elf reached out for her, placing both hands over her bare shoulders, rubbing the softly. She could not help but to watch helplessly as his hands reached for her. The same fire of desire coursed through both of their bodies, want, lust made them abruptly press their lips together, engaging a heated, passionate, lustful kiss. Their tongues met, swirled and twirled within, exchanging their fluids, tasting each other. Soon enough her hands were clawing at his breeches, trying to get that straining cock freed from the binding fabrics of clothes. The proud shaft rose up as she pulled down his breeches, down to his calves and helped him out of them by raising one leg then the other. Suddenly, her mouth was on him, she had taken the entire length of his cock all at once. Layne could feel her tongue busy against his shaft as she moved her lips up the length, sucking, then stopping as her soft lips reached the sensitive head. He felt the hairs on his spine stand, the pleasure she offered him was intense. He was unsure if whether it was the way she used her full lips to caress the head of his cock, or her rhythm, or the sound she made in the back of her throat as she took all of him into her throat. As her mouth moved rhythmically up and down his shaft, bringing him ever closer to orgasm, her fingers toyed with his balls, caressing them, squeezing them gently, and stroking them. Light stroking of the sensitive skin between testicles and anus, while her mouth kept up its pleasurable work on his cock. Finally, his entire body convulsed with pleasure, and he was wracked with a very powerful orgasm. She kept sucking at him gently, swallowing every drop he gave her, demanding more. As the pulsing slowed, then stopped, so did her sucking. She held his half-erect cock in her soft mouth, caressing the tender underside lovingly with her tongue. Not long did it take for the elf to explode with a nerve wracking orgasm, spewing his hot semen into the nymph’s mouth. She would not let a drop escape her, as she held the hot semen inside her mouth, savoring it, feeling its warmness in her mouth, in her tongue, then gulping to drink it. A small bead had slipped out of her lips, and she used one finger to scoop it up and licked it. She finally released the elf’s cock from her clenching mouth, once he had stopped squirting his seed into her awaiting mouth. Layne moved back, feeling the relief he craved for, he sat down over the lush grass which carefully cushioned his bare ass. The lustful desire of the female nymph had not been quenched how ever, and he could sense that white fire present on her belly, craving for him to fill her up with his wondrous cock. Amazingly, he was sitting down, and that huge cock was anything but limp, it was still very aroused, wet, red, and glistening. With a swift movement, the elf sprang over the smaller nymph and pinned her to the ground. Using his legs he parted her own, placed them wide apart giving him self access to her dampening pussy. Guided by a hand, all those inches of cock flesh found the entrance to her hot channel, and drilled past the initial resistance of her tightness. He crammed his entire length up her cunt, smashing the wide tip of his cock’s head against her cervix which make her emit a loud yelp. The elf laid his full body length against her, his hands lifted her calves to his shoulders as he powerfully thrusted his cock deeply into her soaked pussy. She was wet already, her juices dripping out of her hole, lubing up the entire shaft that was stroking in and out of her. Each time he withdrew to the spot where shaft joins head and her pussy clenched around that sensitive spot so tightly, only to ram back again deep inside her cunt, harshly smashing again the wide tip of his cock. Those large swollen balls smacked against her ass, adding another sound to the loud passionate sounds of their intense love making. They were both breathing hard for the duration of their lustful encounter that seemed to take an eternity. The elf was fucking her faster and faster, and their mingled cries of pleasure now sounded like two mindless, prehistoric animals mating in this wonderful forest. Suddenly and without warning, the both climaxed simultaneously and loudly, rolling, feeling small twigs and grass on their naked, sweaty skin. Layne clutched her slick body to his. That soft penis fell out of her cunt, followed by the milky flow of semen. He brought his fingers to her tender pussy, scooping up the pearlescent fluid, bringing it first to her lips, then to his own. They kissed deeply under the star light, casting long shadows through the trees.
Next day, Layne woke up soaked with the remains of their lustful love juices, the only indication that the occurrences of the day before were not a mere lustful wet dream. He took a swim on the pond and replaced his clothes. Once ready, he took the barrel and walked to the north, in search of the camp of goblins. After a long walk, the elf heard some noise from up ahead. He stopped, ears twitched as he sought to recognize what he was hearing. Nostrils flared as the wind seemed to came from up north. It was a good thing too, it prevented the goblins from picking up his scent, and instead, he picked up their foul smell. A soft grin crossed his face as things seemed rather easy. He took the barrel of ale and walked towards them pretending he had not seen them. The goblins noted the single elf and raised their spears threatenly. Layne stopped and shrieked with a startling scream that made the goblins think he was scared out of his mind. He let go of the barrel, and turned to run away from them. One goblin, the one in charge, ordered the other to catch the elf while he took a look at the barrel. He was not that stupid to chase the elf, or perhaps he was that much of a coward. The other attended the order, but not without grunting curses at his commander and sneering at the elf spitting out threats of what he would do to him once he catched up to him.
Layne ran swiftly through the woods, but tried not to loose the goblin as he pretended to trip over one of the roots of a large tree. The much bigger goblin used the opportunity to charge at him with his spear, not anticipating that the elf was only pretending to be down. With a graceful leap, Layne moved out of the charging spear, and in turn, tripped him over with a kick of a booted foot. The goblin fell down and hard, smashing his face to the ground. Layne took advantage of it as he unsheathed his scimitar with lightning speed, and severed the creatures head. No other sound came. Layne turned around and headed back to spy on the other goblin. The elf had stealth to aid him, he managed to see the retrieving goblin running back to his camp. The elf ran behind him while keeping himself concealed with the trees, upon noticing the smoke that marked the goblins camp he knew where he would find them. So hidden within the woods he remained silent, spying on them, watching them act with their chaotic nature, fighting amongst themselves for the ale, food, and treasures they had gathered. The kept the camp site a mess. Eight in total he counted, a large number to take out securely. Patiently he waited hoping they would all drink from the barrel he prepared. But unfortunately, he had not anticipated the goblins great thirst. Only three of them drank from the specially prepared ale finishing all in about minutes. More minutes passed before they dosed off snoring loudly. Another was also sleeping over a mound of furs where they kept the treasure. Other three were fighting amongst themselves as part of a game Layne would have to assume. So, he would not wait longer, there were only five left. The other two were eating the remains of a deer’s carcass. Layne moved with silent steps. Envisioned the spot were he noticed a few coins and other valuables, like other furs and more barrels. The light of the fire at their camp allowed him to spot the Chalice, shinning with the reflection of light. The sleeping goblin held it in his hand, probably had used it to drink wine or ale which had him slumbering. Concentration on the energy of mana, the elf vanished from the spot he was at, and reappeared aside of the sleeping goblin. Slowly he kneeled down and attempted to take the chalice, his skill as a pick pocket would aid him this time, and he did manage to remove it without waking the creature. A soft grin crossed his lips thinking it was too easy. The other two who were eating had turned to notice him he would think for they started growling and throwing pieces of meat at him. Layne had to concentrate really hard to cast the same spell again that would take him as far as spot he could view. Placing two digits in his forehead, he mastered the will to gather the energy of mana, taking him out of the camp and far to the south. The goblins stood there for a few moments glancing around, grunting and cursing the elf that had dared to intrude their camp, and take their belongings. One of them noted Layne running on the far south side and pointed him out. They all rose and grabbed clubs and spears in pursue of the elf. Layne would rather not fight them all, instead he kept running and took the shelter of the trees, where he moved more until he had been lost from their view. Being a sylvan elf aided him, helped him see with clarity in the darkness, and also helped him move and hide through the forest with far more ease then the sluggish and loud goblins. After a day or two of returning back to the Bounty Hunters Guild, Layne returned the silver chalice. Content, and happy, but puzzled, still thinking about that nymph he had met a few nights ago. Who knows, maybe he would see her again one day.