The Adventures of Vyx Vlyn

[Canukistani]

will be coming soon...

 

*taps foot*

 

aaaaaaaaaaanyday now.....

 

 

please limit spamming

 

 

here Azzy Azzy Azzy....

[Azrael]

Darla stepped through the door into the breezeway.  The passages on the lower levels were always packed with people hustling about, but they all gave her room to move unhindered.  She ran her hands along the stiff brocade of her new gown, luxuriating in the feel of the fabric against the palms of her hands, as well as the flesh of her chest as she wiggled slightly inside it.  This gown’s design had been the source of an argument between her father and herself last week when she ordered it.  He was opposed to her wearing something so revealing at only thirteen years of age.  He insisted that she was still a child and should dress like one.  The argument ended when he yelled that her gown would be fit only for a prostitute, and her mother asked him, rather pointedly, how he would know what gowns they wore.  The resulting argument between her parents provided her with an easy escape, and the matter was settled by default.  The result now wrapped her and set her apart from the milling masses flowing around her on every side.  Her gown cost more than many here would make in a year.  Ah, the benefits of wealth and power, Darla mused to herself as she handed the packages of her accessories to her thrall trailing three steps behind her.

 

Many of the lesser peons were more than a little uncomfortable around the thralls, mostly because of the ghastly odour.  Pity you really couldn’t wash then.  Too much water would do… unpleasant things to them.  Satisfied that her skirts were set correctly, and that the bodice was adjusted just right to show off her newly acquired bosom, she set off to complete her list of errands.  She needed shoes to match the gown, a new clasp for her brocade cloak, something tasteful in emeralds and silver, or possibly carnelians.  She shrugged and giggled as the rough fabric tickled against her breasts.  Happy with the days work so far, she flounced down the breezeway, satisfied at the clatter coming from her pouch.

 

Darla was knocked back and rough hands grabbed her to keep her from falling. She drew in a deep breath to berate whoever was mentally damaged enough to dare jostle her when her eyes met those of her assailant.  She felt the air simply disappear from her lungs as she took in the absolutely perfect green of summer grass under a wave of long sand hued lashes.  His face was strong enough to be masculine, but soft enough to be breathtaking, with just a dusting of blonde stubble that would feel very similar to her bodice if he were to lean his face against her naked breast.  She coloured as the thought flashed through her mind, and he smiled at her as if he could hear her thoughts as loudly as she could.  “Mind your manners,” she yelled at him, but to her ears it was no more than a soft murmur.

“My apologies, most beautiful of ladies.  I was struck insensible by a vision from heaven as you rounded the corner and was unable to stop before blundering into you like a stampeding ox.  I must confess though, holding you in my arms and gazing into the perfection of your face is worth all the tongue-lashings that you would feel necessary to heap upon me.”

Darla could feel the heat rising even further to her face and neck, and was certain that even her chest was as crimson as her gown.  She tried for a suitable retort, but simply made breathy noises at him as he set her to rights on her feet and placed a kiss on the palm of each of her hands.  “I beg your forgiveness, beautiful lady, and bid you fare well on your day.”  And he was gone, nothing more than flashing eyes and rough clothes as he slipped into the crowd of people.  She could feel herself smiling, grinning like an idiot and unable to stop as she felt his lips still pressing against her palms, his kisses little torches in her flesh.

 

Still grinning foolishly, Darla continued walking down the wide corridor of the enormous stone castle around her, trying to remember what she had been doing before her soul mate had stepped into her life.  Ah, yes, shoes and a glass of wine, or perhaps a skewer of spiced meat… Her thoughts cut off abruptly as she realized that her purse was no longer dangling from her belt.  “A common thief!” she squealed turning back to where he had vanished into the milling crowd.  “A cutpurse pressed his filthy lips to me while he stole my money!  How dare he?”

 

Her outburst made all those around her turn, and she could swear that they were all smirking at her, laughing at her foolishness to be so easily befuddled by a pair of emerald eyes, a roguish smile and features that wouldn’t be out of place of a messenger for the gods… No! she chided herself.  Don’t think about how beautiful he was, only that he stole our money.  And now I can’t get my things!  She stamped her foot and her nipples rubbed harshly against the course fabric making her wince.  Hmmph.  Perhaps Father was right after all and I should have gone for the linen shift as well.  Raging silently to herself she stormed down the corridor to her family’s apartments. 

 

[Dunbar]

hurra!

[Canukistani]

thank you, thank you.

 

the second part should be up sometime late tonight.

 

you may how express your admiration for part 1

[Master Blade X]

I liked the nipples and boobs part.  ;D

[Canukistani]

well there will be much more forthcoming, but not on DM but on our Home

[Dunbar]

XD

[Canukistani]

Darla twisted this way and that before her polished copper mirror admiring her handiwork. Her hair was plaited tightly against her scalp and was knotted into a tight bun at the top of her neck. When she tipped her head back, her hair would press slightly into her neck, but other than that, it was nearly perfect.

 

Her heavy leather pants and vest were also nearly perfect, dyed a deep brown and set with ebony buttons over a black silk blouse. The sleeves were loose so she had wrapped strips of velvet, torn from the skirt of an old dress that she was willing to sacrifice for her cause, around her wrists. The result was what she had hoped for, a tight fit that also looked slightly dangerous. She had slipped tall black boots over her calves, tucked her leather breeches into them and used the last few strips of the velvet to secure the tops.

 

Magnificent, she gloated looking herself over one more time. Now to add the final touch. She pulled a heavy bronze dagger out from under her pillow. Three days after meeting the brigand in the market she had bought this knife from a friend of her Father. He had assured her that this knife would hold its edge, and was a stronger bronze than the others sold in town. She held the blade before her in her small fist and stared into the polished surface. It’s time to go Thief hunting.

 

She slid the blade into the top of her right boot and wrapped her long blue cloak around herself. Softly she crept to the hallway, and a moment later she was out of her family compound and into the rest of the citadel. Darla could feel her heart pounding within her breast, a wild animal bent on escaping the cage of her flesh and bones, and considered abandoning this quest as pure foolishness. She wasn’t even sure anymore why she was trying to find him.

 

It wasn’t the money. The money wasn’t important to her at all. Her Father hadn’t even noticed as he handed her another small pouch of coins. Successful merchants would make what a little girl would spend on clothes in an hour or less, and Father was successful indeed. The Duke himself bought her Father’s wares.

It wasn’t the purse. She had dozens of them, mostly given to her filled with coins, candies, and once even with jewelry. The locket and earrings were safely on her dressing table inside. One didn’t hunt Brigands wearing jewels.

It wasn’t pique over the loss of her shoes. She had acquired the shoes, broach and a belt the next day with no further difficulties, although she had scanned the crowd constantly while shopping, looking for emerald eyes.

Darla shrugged, touched the hilt of the dagger in her boot for courage, and stepped into the crowd.

 

Hours later, a footsore and discouraged young woman slumped against a wall. She was hungry, thirsty and tired from prowling the lower levels of the citadel all day. She left her money behind, and had assumed… What was I thinking? That I would come down here to the central market and find him lurking between the stalls? Sitting in the shadows simply waiting for me to come and find him? I AM a fool. Cursing herself she turned and stormed away from the marketplace, heading towards her Father’s lower offices. At least there she would be able to have a bit to eat. The dock manager always kept some candy on hand in case she visited him, which she tried to do whenever she could slip away from her stuffy tutors and handmaidens.

 

Darla drew near the office. The passageways here always made her shudder. Even though they were twice as wide as on the upper levels, they were lit poorly and were cold and damp most days. Not a lot of foot traffic came down here, mostly wagons and labourers hauling cargo to and from warehouses and ships. Gone were the blown glass lanterns of the prosperous merchants quarters with their sweet beeswax candles. Behind her were the copper mirrored sconces with their oil lamps of the market. Here there were only torches made of twigs and pine resin, spitting and dripping every twenty paces. A rat skittered across her path and she sucked in her breath. Filth! She raged at the rodent. Why doesn’t the Duke deal with them? A pack of Raveners turned loose down here would clear them out quickly enough. Darla stopped and shuddered, picturing red eyes peering from the shadows and the scrape of ragged claws against the stones. “Perhaps rats aren’t that bad after all,” she muttered under her breath.

 

“I’ve never had any difficulties with them,” a man’s voice said in her ear. Darla whirled around with a squeal that sent the rats bounding through the dimness of the tunnel, her cloak spinning from her shoulders and gathering behind her feet. A man dressed in filthy woollen trousers stood not a hand’s span from her, his fishy breath hot on her face as he laughed quietly. Heavy hands were hooked through a knotted length of leather strapping worn as a belt over a torn and mud smeared rough tunic. “Have they ever bothered either of you?” His question was tossed casually over his left shoulder, his eyes never leaving Darla’s.

 

“Not me Brett,” sneered a pole thin youth in muck stained rough clothes. “What about you Tyne?”

 

Tyne was grinning foolishly, his eyes hungrily scanning Darla’s slim form. He was wearing a tunic made from a burlap sack that reached his knees and a pair of sandals tied haphazardly to his feet with bits of twine and string. “Not if you don’t sleep in the sewers,” he replied. “Can I keep her pants when we’re done with her Willy? You got to keep the clothes from the last one.”

 

Darla drew her bronze dagger from her boot, brandishing it at the three men before her. “If you come any closer I’ll cut you.” She meant to intimidate the men with a menacing tone, but her voice wavered and was little more than a hoarse whisper from a mouth gone very dry. “I mean it.”

 

“Nice knife,” Brett said stepping closer. “Too big for a little girl like you to be waving around like that. Why don’t I take that from you before you hurt yourself.”

 

He reached for her, his eyes locked on hers. She swiped the knife towards his hand and snake quick he struck her wrist sending the blade clattering to the cobblestone road. Tyne brayed foolishly and Willy giggled shrilly as Brett lunged for her, his hands reaching for her waist.

Darla skittered backwards away from the foul smelling trio, panic lending speed to her movements that she normally didn’t have. Brett’s feet tangled in the cast off cloak and he wend down hard, smashing his face into the cobbles at her feet. Darla reacted instantly and bolted down the passageway away from them.

 

“Grab her you idiots!” Brett bellowed through blood stained teeth. “Grab her! She’s getting away!”

 

Willy and Tyne scrambled after her as she fled blindly down the passageway. She could hear Willy’s bootheels striking the cobbles solidly, and Tyne’s sandals slapping the stones and his feet as they raced behind her. Darla was sobbing freely now, running flat out for all she was worth desperately trying to put some distance between herself and them.

 

Where do I go? Where is the office? What passageway have I gone down? Is this the way to the wall or to the docks? Where are the stairs to the upper levels? Haven’t I been here already? Darla shrieked and leapt from a shape that loomed out of the shadows, terrifying the derelict who had the misfortune of stumbling from a lesser passageway into her path. He gave a hoarse cry and collapsed unnoticed behind the wild flight of the wailing girl.

 

Darla cast a glance over her shoulder as she ran, but the flickering torchlight concealed as much as it showed, and she didn’t see the heavy oaken door open before her. She didn’t even see it as the side of her head struck it’s solid surface and she was plunged into darkness.

 

Darla opened her eyes and whimpered softly. Her head pounded with every heartbeat, her legs screamed every time she moved them and her breath wheezed through a raw throat. Memory returned then, and she thrashed her limbs, trying to scramble to her feet. A strong hand clamped over her mouth and a heavy arm pressed across her chest from shoulder to shoulder and a man’s voice murmured something in her ear. Darla doubled her efforts. They’ll kill me! They’re going to rape me and kill me and leave me naked for the rats to eat! I don’t want to die!

 

“Easy missy,” a man’s voice sounded softly. “You’re safe enough for now. No one here is going to hurt you.” Darla continued to struggle, thrashing feebly under the pressure of the man’s arm.

 

“Let her up Ethan,” a softer voice said from nearby. “She’s terrified and you’re not helping her.”

 

Darla stopped struggling when the second voice reached her. She knew that voice. Emerald eyes and lips hotter than candle wax belonged to that voice. Ethan gently released his hold on her shoulders and eased away from her. Darla looked cautiously around her at the dimly lit room. Barrels and crates filled the area, as did coils of rope and burlap sacks.

 

“Where am I,” Darla squeaked out at last, her eyes searching out the dimly lit form of the youth she had been searching for all day.

 

He stepped closer to her, the feeble light from four small tin lanterns illuminating those captivating eyes. “Are you going to hinder us or can we trust you?”

 

Darla nodded shakily. “You can trust me.”

 

“Good.” His voice was soft in the darkness. “Can you walk?” He held out his hand to her. Darla grasped it and felt the heat of his skin against hers. Effortlessly he hauled her to her feet. She stumbled slightly and he steadied her against his chest. “Easy now, you’ve been through a lot.”

 

“Who are you,” Darla whispered as the youth stepped back from her.

 

“I’m Conner. I’ll give you full introductions later. Come on.” Conner led her out from behind the stack of crates and away from her makeshift bed of piled sacks. Ethan and a woman dressed in stiff leather clothing watched as Darla was led past a heavy wooden door. Darla felt a twinge in her battered head as she took in the familiar pattern of grain in the coarse wood. They were in a warehouse, which meant that they were near the outer wall on the lowest level. People lounged here and there. Beggars and merchants stood shoulder to shoulder with sailors and travelers. Most of the people glared suspiciously at Darla and Conner as they passed, but a few looked Darla over and smiled at Conner. A few even winked.

 

“These are my friends, and they’re closer than my family ever was,” Conner explained as he led her by the hand through the large room. “Welcome to the Thieves’ Den.”

[cosmicpanda]

ooo.

 

Reminds me of the similar sounding institution in Mistborn.

[Tharengore]

reminds me a bit of eleminsters daughter book...

[Canukistani]

oh, Darla ends up quite differently.  This is only how she got started.  Next Episode: Training

Next Next Episode: Final Exam

then we skip ahead some years (and many levels) i think