Oh what a night..

Last night was amazing. Inira and I are no strangers to each others’ body by now, but I did not expect that. Once we separated from the others and took to our room, we disrobed and got into the bath together. It was the first hot bath I've had in ages, it seems, and quickly after entering the water, it began to soothe away every ache and pain I had, though, admittedly.. it may not have been the water soothing my body. As we slipped in together, I pulled Inira’s against me and our lips met as if we’d been apart for years. The yearning between us was almost palpable. Through my skin I could feel the slight temperature difference of her pale skin, and the coolness was a comfort I did not know I needed. As my body runs warms from the nature of my blood, the touch of her skin against my own was as a salve I knew not existed. The steam that arose from us cleared my nostrils and took her in scent deeply as I pressed my face to her neck. I bared my teeth in thought of biting her, as the desire to do so was powerful in the moment, but I restrained myself; something I cannot say for my mate, thankfully. Her teeth were not so sharp as mine to my dismay but she came at me with a ferocity I did not expect. I had never been bitten in a.. lustful manner before, and the rush was exhilarating. Her nails scraped along my body in her zeal, and I met her at every step, to the limit of her pain tolerance. I felt she had a particular.. “affinity” for blood, as it were, but I had never imagined such a fetish before. Once the gates were open, we let each other in to our deeper desires, and explored the things which we thought would just be fantasy. The garments she wears afield certainly do her body no justice to her actual appearance, and my fingertips shall not soon forget every curvature of her form. I find myself drowning her in her eyes; a blue that seems to glow in otherworldly light that’s almost intoxicating. At one point she had my back pressed against the edge of the bath, she sat up straight as she mounted me, so that she could look down at me for once, and her hair cascaded down from her head and made this silken tunnel that blocked out the rest of the world beyond us. It was there that I found a happiness I did not know existed within me.
 
My life as a child growing up within the Butchers was devoid of what ‘normal’ children experience. There was no time for fun and games. My backyard was a battlefield, littered with enemies who would kill me, rape me, maybe both. In either order. Instead of toys I was given weapons, and taught how to use them. I had killed my first man before my age reached double digits. The sights of gore and bloodshed was commonplace; almost a daily occurrence. As my blood began manifesting aspects of its nature, Henry went through great lengths to conceal me from the others, but there was only so much one man can do. The ranks of the Butchers ebbed and flowed like the tides, large swathes of men dying every battle, only to be renewed at the next Imperial outpost with the dregs of the Empire, made to suffer the sentence of their crimes in a life-service to the crown on the battlefield. I know not how many men I killed who tried to make toy of me, but no one ever questioned a criminal dead outside the tents of our camps. “Love” was never a real emotion I fancied that I’d feel.
 
I found myself frequently just holding her face so that I might gaze into her eyes as we intertwined. At first she would give me a look of worry or confusion; I think she believed there was something wrong by my demeanor. Eventually, she would just smile back at me as I smiled at her, and lean into my hand. She often would trace her fingertips down my body, much like I had hers, and just.. touched me. Anywhere. Everywhere. As if she also wanted to impart each moment to memory. It makes me smile to think back on it, and the few instances I caught her biting her lip just a little as she did so. We partook of each other many times, all over the room wherever there was space. I was admittedly very fond of the bath.
 
As the small hours of night dwindled away, we found ourselves curled up in bed, and I began to read to her the book we had purchased. It was written in lokharic, the draconic alphabet, and to my surprise, she could not read it. I don’t fancy myself an intellectual by any means (and nor, I assume, would anyone else) but I was taken aback that she did not know the old script. And so, I began teaching her the tongue of my bloodline. The draconic language is harsh, and has hard consonants and sibilants that usually sounded like hissing when spoken and included a sound similar to a creature clearing its throat. Her early attempts at imitating it was disastrous, but she began picking up the nuances of the language quickly. She’s quite deft with her tongue, after all. It will take many more lessons before she would be fluent, especially if I can’t keep my hands off her as I did this night, but I look forward to the tutelage going forward. As we depleted our stamina, we eventually went to bed together. She looks almost peaceful curled up under my arm, with her head on my chest. I fear for any troubling dreams she may have, but I can only do so much as I am now…
 
When I awoke the next morning, I found Inira had woken before me, and went out to cook breakfast. I put on some breeches I found and left my room to find the others. I was offered a drink from Hassim as I entered; it was a bitter liquid (if it could be called that) but not entirely unpleasant. It reminded me of something my father would drink some times, though I know not where he got it from. It was highly coveted at any rate. I stepped over to help my beloved cook, but the others were more surprised to see her cooking, appalled that we had been using rations this whole time instead of cooked meals. I’m pretty sure they knew I kept my mess kit with me from my time as a soldier, but I decided not to bring it up. I found her cooking to be delicious, and only served to compliment the meats that were brought in from the establishment help. I would like to cook with her more often, I find. Share more time with her in doing the more mundane things. The quail were small, but their bones are brittle and hollow, and so I learned long ago to eat them in one go. It seemed to disturb the others, I think. Larger birds are tastier, I think.
 
As we planned what we would do for the day so we could regroup later, we actually all decided to go see the Axiomite elf smith that could give me some information on these body parts I was collecting, and the others wanted something else from him too, but I didn’t pay that any mind. Before we left I had Grimaldus and Hassim assist me with removing my damaged arm via glaive. Inara thought me mad, but once I explained that Grimaldus could cast a Regeneration spell and I would regrow my arm, she seemed less apprehensive at the idea. Hassim’s time as an assassin and knowledge of anatomy served us well in this endeavor. He cut the arm cleanly at the shoulder and there were no issues in regrowing my arm within the next few minutes. To my surprise, I found that my left eye had regrown as well, and I could see clearly once more. Grimaldus Gentle Repose’d my severed arm and I took it with us. If dragon parts had been used to create artifacts in the past, perhaps something could be done with mine.
 
Inira mentioned wanting to make some money, but when I asked her how much she needed, she didn’t have an answer. I have some money to spare I would gladly give to her, as I don’t spend nearly anything except for essentials. I decided I would try to make some money as well then, in case she wanted something expensive. It could wait until after the elf, however. Speaking of which, in true elf fashion, the man’s tower was 300 feet off-shore, and stuck 50 feet up into the open air, as if some misplaced lighthouse that had its foundation washed away by the ravages of time and water. It was obvious that the entrance was meant to dissuade the magically disinclined, but I was not put off. I would not be denied. So I swam. Spitting in the face of this man’s expectations, I swam out to the tower and scaled the side of it. While it was clear that the rest of my party seemed exasperated at my display, I didn’t care. It wasn’t for their benefit.
 
It took some discussion, but the elf eventually accepted my request. He took the two items from me with instructions that he would summon me when it was finished. Time to get some work. I found myself talking to a.. unicorn? It was a horse, with a singular horn, but it spoke imperial. It told me of an adult blue dragon that was terrorizing the trade routes along with a horde of kobolds. Without any good leads to go on, and needing time to work out a strategy for dealing with the creature, I shifted my focus on searching for the body part I was told to be in this city. The brain of the Father of Monsters lead me to the necropolis underneath the city, where I had the unfortunate luck of running into Vignir once again. After a mind-numbing conversation, he revealed that he had the item I was seeking, in a lead-lined box, and would give it to me if I go murder one of Hassim’s “Great Masters” and his daughter, who was apparently a gorgon. I’m not sure what that is, but I will ask one of the mages later.
 
Late that night, after we had all gone to bed, we received a visitor from Hogar. Another small creature. He didn’t even come up to my cock. I forgot to put my pants on, but I detest late night visitors. Hogar wanted to see us tomorrow. Whatever. I’ll let them all know in the morning. Once it left, a small machine like the one from the Axiomite’s Tower appeared before I could even shut the door again. It bared a simple message: It’s completed. I threw on some pants, and in the middle of the night, ran as fast as I could back to the elf’s Tower on the edge of town….