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The Game	By : RTietjen Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1956 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I don't know what you consider graphic, but from here on out, all story warnings apply. And now,
The Game Continues...

“That’s him?” Irybis asked, standing on his toes to see over the stone wall separating them from the courtyard of the manor house.
“That’s the one,” Rae said, adjusting her corset for the fifth time in two minutes.
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. Why?”
“He’s so... short. And unimpressive. His eyes are too close together.”
“Doesn’t matter what he looks like. You two just stay out of sight and watch an expert at work,” Rae told Irybis, then stepped out into the street. She ran a hand across her hair, smoothing the sides and tucking a stray strand into the rest of the braid. She headed to intersect the knight, moving at a leisurely pace.
When she was a few feet from him, Irybis saw her fake a stumble. The short man reacted without thinking, reaching out to grab her arm.
“Oh, many thanks, milord,” Rae gushed, looking at him with a ridiculous smile plastered on her face.
“Think nothing of it. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Home, milord. I don’t want to be out after curfew. I have my papers, if you’d like to see them.”
Irybis saw the man’s eyes widen as she reached into her cleavage, nicely enhanced by the corset, to produce the papers.
Beside him, Tristan muttered, “Overkill.”
“Hush.”
The knight made quite a show of checking her paperwork. As he was about to hand them back to her, two other knights approached. Two pairs of knights regularly patrolled outside the manor house. One of them called out a greeting to the short man.
“Good evening, Lord Ausric,” the man said, glancing at Rae and raising his eyebrows.
“And to you, Etienne.” The short knight ignored the unspoken question.
“Has His Lordship’s humor improved any since this morning?”
“It has not, thankfully, or I’d likely be spending this evening inside, proving once again how abysmal I am at khas.”
“The burden of having friends in high places.”
“Tis no burden. I am honored to be counted among His Lordship’s friends. Carry on.”
The two men saluted and continued on their rounds. The short man turned back to Rae, who was staring at him with wide eyes.
“You’re...”
“Ausric Krell. At your service, milady.” He made a small bow.
“Lord Ausric Krell. Ariakan’s right hand! I am both honored and humbled to meet you, milord,” she stammered, tripping over her skirts to attempt a curtsy.
Behind the wall, Tristan rolled his eyes and hissed, “There is no way he is going to fall for that crap, he...”
“Sssh!” Irybis said, still watching Rae and Krell.
The knight had taken the bait. “I have known His Lordship for many years, it’s true.”
“You must have so much to I shouldn’t keep you, then. I’m sure you have important business to attend to,” she started to back away.
He caught hold of her arm to stop her. “Actually, I’m off duty tonight.”
“Are you?” she said, looking pointedly at the papers he still held in his hand.
“On duty or off, I am still a knight, and responsible for the safety of the city.”
“Of course, milord,” Rae said, and curtsied again. It looked ridiculous. The knight beamed at her as he handed her papers back to her. “What does such an important man do with his free time?”
Krell’s demeanor changed instantly. His eyes narrowed and Irybis could see him tense from where he crouched behind the wall.
“You’re in the wrong district for that. Surely they explained that to you when you applied for your license.”
Rae almost forgot about her act. “License? What are you... ooooh! No. No, no, no. I am not a working girl.” She stepped away from him a bit too quickly, paused a moment, then asked “They have a license for that now?”
The knight still looked suspicious, but he nodded.
“Must be pretty hard to regulate. How do you enforce something like that?”
“The same way we regulate anything. The guilds are responsible for reporting the income of each individual registered with them.”
“They have a Whore’s Guild, now?”
“I’m not quite sure what the official name is.”
“That is so incredibly twisted. I’m sorry, thinking out loud.”
“It’s worked quite well in Tarsis. I don’t really understand any of the accounting aspect, myself, but we collect enough taxes to pay the bills.”
“I imagine fielding an army gets expensive.”
“It does. As far as the other, I’m sure I could help walk you through the application process, if you like?”
Rae tried her best to look shocked and embarrassed. Irybis could tell she wanted to slap the man in the face.
"My apologies, milady. I meant no offense."
“Of course, milord. So back to my original question, what do you do for fun? Other than financing the new guilds of the city...”
He seemed to be trying to figure out if that was an insult. Instead, he smiled, and asked her to join him for a drink.
“Score one for the wench,” Irybis said.
“Not too bright, is he?” Tristan whispered.
“Don’t have to be smart to swing a sword, or to slit someone’s throat. I hope she knows what she’s doing.”
“She usually does. Let’s get out of here before someone notices us. If anything happens, she’s always got Plan B to fall back on.”
Tristan and Irybis slipped away into the growing shadows as Rae and the knight headed towards the tavern district.

~ ~ ~
“...it wasn’t even a battle. Our archers fired off two rounds, Ariakan order the advance, out comes the white flag. I thought the Lord’s son was going to soil himself when we walked into the Hall. At least Solamnia offered some sort of challenge.”
The girl sipped her third glass of wine and stroked the back of his hand as he talked. She’d barely said a word since they got here.
“Are you always this quiet?” he asked.
“Not always,” she murmured.
“At least they finally shut that so-called bard up. I was about half a glass from throwing him out myself.”
The girl was staring at him with a rapt expression on her face. Could she possibly be that interested in battle stories? In his experience, most women weren’t. Of course, she couldn’t help but find him fascinating. He was, after all, Ausric Krell.
The girl wasn’t what most would call beautiful. She was about an inch shorter than he, with a dark tan which set her apart from the pale Solamnic beauties of this city. Her brown hair was bound up in a single braid which fell halfway down her back. She had large eyes, slightly tilted, which hinted at either Eastern or Elven ancestry.
She did have a ready smile and laughed a lot. Normally, this would have bothered him. For some reason, when she laughed, he didn’t feel like she was laughing at him.
Krell wasn’t one for jesting. He was a simple man, a man who understood battle tactics and force of arms. He was far more comfortable speaking with his sword than with his tongue, yet he found he enjoyed speaking to this woman.
She may not have been an exceptional beauty, but she had her selling points.
His eyes wandered to her breasts which threatened to spill out the top of the corset. He never had understood why women went to such great lengths to attract a man’s notice. He should have realized she wasn’t whoring just from that. Corsets were incredibly difficult to remove and far more difficult to put back on.
They were nice breasts. Not as large as he would have preferred, but nice.
“Lord Ausric?”
“It’s just the two of us. You don’t have to use my title. I was only thinking, darling.”
“Thinking about what?”
About how you would look naked, he thought, and said, “About you.”
“Me?”
He nodded and reached up to caress her cheek. Her skin was soft enough to be a lady’s. She leaned into the touch, shivered. He smiled at the response.
“Milord, I have to get home. The curfew...”
“I’ll take you home, later,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were as soft as the rest of her, warm and yielding. He drew her into his arms, not caring where they were, wanting only to feel her against him.
She broke the kiss, looked around the crowded room, eyes wide as those of a startled deer. “Milord, we can’t...”
He released her. “You’re right, of course. I forgot myself. Come,” he rose and took her firmly by the arm and led her towards the back stairs.
He knew she was nervous. They all were, the first time. It was only natural considering who he was. As soon as they were upstairs, she would feel more at ease.
He hadn't chosen this inn by accident. He had a room here which he used when he didn’t wish to return to the manor house for whatever reason. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was clean.
He opened the door for her. She hesitated on the threshold, then stepped inside. He shut the door behind them and turned the key in the lock. Her eyes widened a bit until he lay the key on the table.
“So we are not disturbed.”
She stood at the center of the room, looking uncertain. He knelt to start the fire.
“There’s wine on the table.”
He stripped off his armor and dropped it in the corner, then reclined on the bed.
She had filled both glasses, and now stood by the bedside table, cloaked in shadows. He patted the spot beside him. She walked slowly over to the bed and sat down, sipping the wine, avoiding his eyes.
He reached up to toy with the laces of her corset. “This can’t be comfortable,” he said.
He tugged the laces loose, and took the wine from her, finished what was in her glass and set it on the table. He reached up to untwist her braid and let her hair fall in a dark curtain around her face. He ran his hands through the soft strands, curling them around his hands before drawing her down beside him.
She smelled like flowers. Her lips tasted like sweet red wine. He flicked his tongue across those lips and felt them part for him. The kiss deepened. He felt her hands tugging at his shirt, sliding beneath it. Cool hands skimming across heated flesh. He broke the kiss just long enough to remove his shirt, then returned to ravaging her mouth.
He tugged the top of her dress away from her breasts and buried his face between them, cupping her breasts in his hands. Her nipples were dark against the white skin of her breasts. He took one into his mouth, hearing her gasp as he did. She arched her back, pressing the length of her body against his. With a heroic effort, he tore himself away from the girl.
“Milord?”
“You, milady, are wearing far too much clothing.”
She rose from the bed, turned her back on him and began stripping off her dress. Her sense of modesty was charming, but completely unnecessary. He reached down to undo his trousers with one hand, taking up his glass with the other. He downed what was left in the glass and dropped it beside the bed, struggling for control.
“Turn around,” he ordered her.
She did so, her arms clasped across her chest. She had pulled her white linen shift back onto her shoulders. Even in the dim light, he could see her cheeks burning. Surely she couldn’t be a virgin? Wouldn’t that be a treat.
She stared at him as if unsure what to do next. He nodded. She slid the shift over one shoulder, then lower. His head buzzed with wine and lust. He groaned and wrapped his hand around his swollen shaft. If this kept up much longer...
The shift fell to the floor.
“Come here,” he rasped, reached out for her and she came to him. The buzzing in his head rose to a fever pitch. The world shifted. She leaned over him, her breasts brushing against his bare chest, a secret smile on her lips. That smile was the last thing he saw before he slid into darkness.
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The Game