Posted by: regpriest | June 22, 2010

Tales for Tuesday: Belf Stories!

Like just about everyone, I have a Belf alt. She’s a paladin, and was meant to be my “beat the snot out of things” alt. Sadly, I don’t always get to beat the snot out of things, I often have to heal the snot out of things. The healing! I can not escape it! Anywhoodle, here’s a story about Tessere, my shady, recently reformed, Belf and her very different relationship with a notorious man-whore.

Strange Bedfellows

The sunlight glinted off of her armor. But not enough.
She dabbed a little more of the polishing wax onto the plate and rubbed it in with the soft cloth. Her arms ached with the effort, she polished everyday.
Dir demanded it of her, and though she complained loudly it was a task she took comfort in. She’d always had little rituals to give herself a feeling of calm and order in her very chaotic and disordered life, but there was something about the daily maintenance of her armor and weapons that was satisfying.
Not that she’d ever tell Dir that. Their relationship had changed into something entirely different since she’d first met him, but they still traded barbs and insults. Because they both were firm believers in tradition.
These days though, it was softer, and tempered with praise and genuine affection. He seemed to take a kind of pride in her accomplishments, and that pleased her. A true friendship had grown between them, and she appreciated that more than she would ever let on.
Around her the chapter house woke up. From the hall came the sound of softly closing doors, hushed greetings, the shuffling of slippered feet on stone. Then a soft knock on her door.
“I’m up.”
The door opened a crack and he walked in.
“That’s a good shine. For you.”
“I’m surprised you can see it with that ratty mane of yours hanging in your eyes.” She kept her eyes down, but grinned.
“I’ve heard tell that you’re quickly approaching your trial.”
“Yes. Not long now. I’m surprised how quickly it’s come.”
“I’m not. The thing about you Tess is that once you’ve decided to do something, it gets done, and quickly.”
“Then why was I such an awful assassin?”
“You’re not cold enough.”
She stood up, placed the now gleaming chest piece on its wooden stand and smoothed out her day robes. Then she finally looked at him.
They both grinned as he hung an arm across her shoulders, “Also? You’re a terrible shot. Seriously. I’ve never seen someone so bad with a knife, bow, and gun. Not a one of them could you get right.”
“You can do better? I’d love to see it.”
“Of course I can!”
“Well, who knew that instead of consulting with the most devious minds in Murder Row, I should’ve just come to you!”
“That should be your course of action for just about everything, dear. Just about everything.”
She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her laughter as they walked out of the room. He pulled her door closed quietly with his free hand and complained about her hair and poor posture all the way down to breakfast.
Her hair was shorter then. She was thinner, not as much muscle, all sinew and skin. Still, it wasn’t hard to turn a man’s head. Especially if those men happened to be three sheets to the wind. She could tell by his clothing, ostentatious, that he had more money than sense. She smirked to herself, and she took a moment to “arrange the merchandise” in a cracked mirror. She pinched her cheeks to coax rosiness from them and gave herself a saucy wink for confidence. She was not convinced. Oh well. She shrugged and made her way over to the bar, where quite a few ladies of the evening had begun to ply their wares. They glared at her as she approached and she grinned at them. No shame, no fear. That’s the only way to survive. He was holding court among the whores, but he treated them all as if they were the finest names from the most noble houses.
“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?” She attempted to look as innocent and gamine as possible. She was successful only at the gamine part.
“Hey there little thing…*hic*” He spun around on his stool, trying for “suave” and achieving “seasick walrus”.
He grinned broadly at her, head lolling, eyes crossing. Dir Shiningsky made a great first impression.
She lowered her gaze and glanced back up briefly covering a smile with her hand. She’d seen a few especially devious gold diggers pull that move off with grand results.
Under normal circumstance (read: with a completely sober target) Tess’ display of dainty femininity would’ve looked awkward, but with a thoroughly besotted target, it worked wonders. It wasn’t long before they were up in his rooms, ending a particularly lackluster but still entertaining (if only because it was funny as hell to watch him struggle to keep both his consciousness and his balance) “lovemaking” session.
A few vigorous thrusts, a grunt or two, and he’d rolled off and was asleep as his head hit the pillow. His snores echoing loudly off the walls.
Tess lifted his arm and let it drop, limply, onto the bed. He was completely out, and would be for some time.
She got dressed, and took her time rifling through his belongings, taking gold, silver, some nice looking jewelry, anything that could fetch a decent price and wasn’t bolted down to the floor. She even stole one of his bags, filling it to bursting.
“Lovely thighs you have m’dear…”
Tess froze as he mumbled something else about an “ample bosom”, let loose a snort and rolled over. She frowned and looked down at her less than ample bosom. It looked like she might have to spend some of her new-found wealth on a priest to cure her of whatever venereal disease he had no doubt given her.
She narrowed her eyes at his still sleeping form and walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor. She picked them up and stuffed them in the bag as well.
Carrying the overflowing bag in one hand and a pair of finely tooled men’s leather shoes in the other, she walked out into the bright sunlight of Booty Bay.
“…and that’s why you really should stop wearing the color yellow.”
“I will take that under advisement.”
“Good girl. Here, you need to eat more, you’ve got to build some muscle up.”
He placed a plate overflowing with food in front of her.
“Eat up. Every scrap! That’s your chore for today. Putting meat on your bones.”
She smiled, picked up her fork and set about completing her task.

Interested in Tess and Dir’s second meeting? Head on over to my bff irl’s blog: She is the player of Dir, as well as his two sisters and thoroughly entertaining.



  1. […] 23, 2010 ((Dir and Tess’ SECOND meeting!  Wanna check out the first? You can find it at Regatta’s blog, Please Don’t Die.  Along with a host of other goodies.  I may be biased though, […]

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