Matt swung toward the sound-and saw a girl running at an angle toward him, panting in terror. Long, black hair streamed back from a finely chiseled ivory face. Full breasts stretched the fabric of her bodice taut, and her skirts whipped tightly about long, slender legs and the curve of her hips. Even in panic, there was something about her that promised impossible pleasure for the man lucky enough to possess her. Matt kicked into a run. She fled toward the horizon, angled his way, without even a backward glance, running for her life.
She was hampered by her clothes-kirtle, bliaut, and cloak of rich fabric. A tentacle slashed out, snatching the girl's cloak She stumbled, her body slamming against the fabric, and it tore in a huge, jagged rent. She screamed but staggered back into a run, the troll snickering behind her. It slashed out again, catching her skirt. The kirtle tore. Two tentacles shot out, one catching the hem of her skirt, the other hooking into her collar. The girl spun about as the bliaut tore open in a long, jagged rent along its whole length. A third tentacle hooked the back of the neckline, and bliaut snapped her arms up as it came away from her. For a moment, she stood poised, arms high in the moonlight, in only her shift.
Then a clawed tentacle slashed down at her, and she threw herself down backward to avoid it.
The troll howled and pounced, but she was too quick for him; she rolled to the side, just in time, and kept rolling. She was free for a moment and was up and running. The troll howled and pounced. She threw herself to the side-straight against a thorn bush. She leaped away, but the shift caught in the thorns, ripping away in a jagged line just below her hips.
The troll caught her with a howl of glee, pinning her arms to her sides with tentacle loops, lifting her toward the gaping shark’s mouth. Matt reached the troll and leaped, striking home.
“You have slain it!” The girl stood just a few feet away now, with the moonlight behind her showing the shadow of her body against the thin cloth of her shift. Here and there, a long gash in the fabric revealed a smooth, creamy curve. “You have saved me! Oh, you are my true knight!”... She caught up the ragged hem of her shift to wipe at the blood on his chest, exposing more curves.
Her Majesty's Wizard, Stasheff, Christopher
Sayeesa stepped forward, pulling the tattered robe about her, trying to hold the rips closed. She was pale and shaken, but the determined resignation was still there. She glared up at Alisande, and her voice was low but clear.
Her Majesty's Wizard, Stasheff, Christopher
Matt saw Yverne, strapped down and stripped to the waist. It was a sight he’d been secretly yearning for, but not in the current setting.
Oathbound Wizard Stasheff, Christopher