Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Ammon was well aware of Cain's lust to escape she could virtually taste it along with the stagnant cistern air swirling restlessly about as the trio waded through debris. The walls appeared like a dragon's gullet, all red and half swollen with brackish waters. Edmure appeared disturbed by the small space and the curiously red stone bricks forming neat archways above them. My lady, he breathed nervously after a long lapse of silence, Are you certain you know your way? Ammon proved resilient in virtually all aspects he felt belittled questioning her, but his instinct nudged him to ask. Of course, she curtly replied, These tributaries were built five decades ago when the septons secretly smuggled slaves through sacellums and churches. She seemed to stiffen when she mentioned 'slave'. They twist and bend for miles upon miles ... into the maw of madness, they say. Marching a man into these tunnels if sending a man to his death. Edmure lowered his taper near the cobble pathway to frighten away a flock of rats scrounging about for arrant morsels to fill their bellies. The corridors appeared to be growing smaller their zenith appeared a life time away as he noted when he raised the taper into view, but Ammon continued to lead them on into the maw of madness. Rushing water filled Edmure's ears and drowned out the shuffle of their footsteps. It grew louder as they approached until the tunnel opened into an enormous grotto. Chutes of water wept from its broken stone walls and fed a pool of water that churned violently two meters below. It was a circular cavern with stalagmites for teeth and no light save for that of the torch which moved like snakes through through the pool. There are so many tunnels , Edmure thought, I can see how they say coffles of slaves are still lost down here . As quick as a flash of lightening Ammon ripped the linen from Cain's eyes and shoved him over the lip of the walkway into the massive lake of water below. The Drowned God is no longer worshiped openly in Pala do not tremble, I am not interested in drowning you. The sound echoed throughout the cavern and again became drowned by the waterfalls. Fate will judge you now, Ammon stated rather coldly, If you do not drown, fate has willed it. If you dot starve, fate has willed it ... if you do not live , fate has willed it. She stepped away from the ledge and plucked the torch from Edmure's hand, waving it so Cain could see her when he surfaced if he hadn't already. These tunnels extend well underground with several exits, if you happen across them. Six will lead you to freedom ... but one will lead you back to the cathedral back to me. I am curious to see what destiny has in store for you, Cain. Your trial begins now. I will be waiting. On queue Edmure turned, Ammon as well, and the pair were swallowed by impending darkness.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Some days had passed since Ammon left Cain to his fate in the cisterns. During that lapse of time she insured that the women kept captive for sexual misuse were safely escorted back to their respective homes with a pocket full of coin that would faciliate in the deletion of their painful experiences. Ammon knew better than any that no amount of material goods could compensate for abuse, but she could certainly try and whet their desire for vengeance. After seeing that her mean were well on their way to being entirely healed, Ammon holed herself away in the cistern's vestibule with a tome and a decanter of hipporcras. York would wander down from time to time, offering her morsels of food, though she politely declined and continued reading. One evening, after having seen the amount of hippocras she consumed, the easily aroused Oyouri man tried his hand at courting her. Although his attempt was admirable, Ammon didn't respond to any passes and kept her eyes transfixed to her readings. Desheveled, York disappeared into the cathedral but made another attempt the following night with the same results. York as an attractive man albeit lithe he had some muscle honed from archery but wasn't nearly as rough-hewn as Edmure. He had soft features - a queer mixture with his facial hair but a perfect fit with the sea of bone-straight raven colored hair. He found Ammon's claim odd - she swore fate itself that Cain would return, but he was unconvinced as Edmure. However, her words bore fruit soon enough. Cain came staggering through the pale doors ragged and reeking and exhausted. Ammon hadn't even bothered to celebrate the precision of her prediction but, rather, she had Cain escorted to the cathedral where he could rest. His condition sparked jealousy among the ranks Ammon let him rest in her bed, a mishapen down-filled mattress with a sea of throw pillows and animal pelts to keep her warm. Edmure visited one evening, sporting his usual attire in all black leathers. Milady, he nodded cordially, How is he? Ammon said nothing in response. She offered Edmure a solemn gaze and sent him on his way as she sat in the vacant throne, honing her staff with lavender oil and varnish. Secretly she was eager to see his response to her mistreatment but she didn't quite expect him to be merry.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Cain regained his consciousness rather quickly, at least rapidly considering the extent of abuse his body had taken. Where he awoke alarmed him though, a comfortable bed inside what was no doubt the cathedral, and that could only mean one thing, he was in Ammon's quarters. Cain hesitated in moving out of the bed, having to get up and try to find food would be having to either sneak out which bordered on impossible, or to ask Ammon who was no doubt close by and awaiting his awakening. He had to do something though, waiting in the bed was going to do him no good and he had to eat something soon a he felt a severe lack of energy as he slipped off of the heavenly bed and onto the floor, realizing his boots had been removed only because of the cold floors touch. His limbs were shaky though, no matter how strong he still was in spirit his body had taken quite a beating and he was far from being in good shape, his shaking and soreness was proof of that. It wasn't until he was up on his feet that he noticed who was already in the room with him, his bodies many aches apparently throwing off his senses a bit. Ammon was sitting there on the throne, a staff in her hand and the same look she always had worn on her face. Cain snarled, weakly but the intent behind it was obvious. He said nothing immediately as he had to hold himself back, as he wanted nothing more than to give her a piece of his mind before slitting her throat and watching that arrogant look fade away. He knew it wouldn't go down like that if he tried anything in his current condition, the ordeal leaving his body drained and he could barely move, and even when he did move his body was heavy and he felt uncomfortable. He took a few steps in her direction though, his eyes narrowed as he positioned himself right in front of her, inspecting the woman like he was trying to find some weakness or just stare into her soul. Despite his condition, and what she had done to him, Cain still displayed the same level of confidence as ever, the little energy he had being used to keep him standing up straight and at full height, as he would not cower before her. It seems fate has a sick sense of humor, letting me survive but sending me back to you... Cain let out a short laugh, fate could go fuck itself, he was not enjoying any of it. I suppose this is the obvious question Ammon but what exactly do you have in store for me since fate allowed me to live? Will you simply kill me yourself or am I do be used as an example to what happens to anybody with a different opinion than the tyrant? A smirk crossed his lips, he had held back smart-ass comments and such disrespectful comments before but now that she had shown herself to be unworthy of his allegiance he was not going to hold back. He would just have to hope she didn't strike back, one hit would most likely send him flying, Cain's strength sapped, all he had were his words at this point.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

When Cain had awoken, Ammon was well equipped to stomach his berastions. Any human of even the most modest of miens would feel the need to do so, she confided, and it was best to let him vent. Your opinions are your own, she began with her usual sonorous melody, Yet we must share some common ground if you've found yourself among our numbers, a general no less. I merely wished to show you a truth. Whether or not you believe it is entirely your choice. The staff she possessed was more a scythe than anything, but it was ostentatious nonetheless. It's body was enamelled in copper and lapiz lazuli, its pommel a vivid representation of a fossa's whose teeth had clutched a pomegranate sized opal in its jaws. She set the oversized weapon aside and approached Cain in all of her vulpine glory. That eve Ammon was adorned in the garb of her people, an orange robe chased with aqua stripes while the other half was dyed coal black. It was half unfastened revealing her bandeau beneath, but Ammon seldom deigned to care. When he laughed she circuited around to his back, gently taking the sides of his cheeks into her palms. At such a close range she wreaked of foreign spices and cloves and buttermilk, her hands as soft as a new born's supple skin. She guided his gaze into her mirror where he could see himself and her standing behind him as if she were some ethereal guardian overseeing his every action. Understand that I am no tyrant, Cain. I am a paradigm as are all those who see worth in my cause. Idealistically, we should not be reprimanded because we are a godless people. Hespith will force his religion upon others who have known their god since they drew their first breath. Those who resist, he will slaughter and enslave. People need a deity, something greater than themselves to believe in. If there is no religion, there is no peace. Though I know destiny is the tether that joins, I will not force it upon others. But I will show them truths as I've shown you and only hope that they are not as blind as Hespith. With half-lidded eyes, the weary woman continued to educate Cain as best as she was able. You may stay or you may leave. The choice if yours, though fate has already chosen. If you stay, I will give to you a legion of men who will follow loyally under you. I have already told them of your promise and they, too, are well aware. You are a warrior, Cain. Fight for what is just.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Do what you will with your newly attained gift, fate steadies your hand regardless. She took a healthy step backward, ocassionally glancing upward at the solar's glass panels. The pale moonlight crept, chasing the shadows in the chamber to their respective corners where the candles' light couldn't reach. Though Ammon deigned to admit it, she was wary her wound was still healing and she was seldom able to keep her meals down let alone crouch without discomfort. Eventually she began shedding her clothing article by article. First came her garb, second her robe followed by her satchel, cummerbund and cinch. Underneath the layers of roughspun wools and silks Ammon was a nubile woman with pear-shaped hips and supple bust. Her breasts were hidden underneath her bandeau although the scant material left little to one's imagination. Even her runes were queer things her skin was riddled in brands, all in a long since dead tongue, and the tattoos were ritualistic and tribal at best. What was most striking was the wound she possessed. Edmure did his very best to urge her into bed yet she was restless and often wondered the cathedral's swards come nightfall. I am to have a council meeting come first light, she said, lethargy heavy in her steps. Rather than nurse her hippocras as she was known to do, Ammon, instead, chose to sample a particularly flavourful posset at Edmure's behest. With it she noshed on a heel of honey bread, kindly offering Cain a half as she reattained her sleeping quarters. She welcomed the soft, lye-treated furs on her bare skin. The posset tasted divine upon her tongue and she used the bread to sop up whatever remained. It was an unusual ritual, but Ammon was a foreign woman with foreign tastes. Hespith's and his host have found followers in the Barrens. An unusual place, I regret, but it's seldom visited. I have reason to believe he's going to attempt to cross the Sandsea and return to Pala. The triumvirate is momentarily broken and he can easily covet our high seat if he's bolstered his numbers like rumours claim. Ammon appeared dwarfed in her ocean of pelts and throw pillows, a luxury she wasn't all too fond of, yet admirers and men seeking her allegiance brought many gifts and she was too much an opportunist to deny them. If we must cross the Sandsea, then we need galleys. There are pirates in Yemen, but they are neutral. I may task you with changing their minds. She gave him a fleeting smirk then laid upon her pillows. But, we will trouble ourselves with that on the morrow, when the sun kisses the zenith. Return to your pavillion and sleep, general Cain. Fate bid you pleasant dreams.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Of course they'll decline, Warlord Z'onzz protested, Yemen is cesspool brimming with drunks, pickpockets, slatterns and smugglers. You think a group of pirates will readily allow you access to their vessels? They'd sooner carve out their tongues than let you command even one galley. You seem to forget that Yemense merchants rely heavily on Pala for barter, Ammon replied coolly, Pala is an exclusive province that produces rare fruits, materials for medicines, and I need not mention the garb you wear, I dare say it's of a Palan make. Warlord Z'onzz bristled his jowls trembled in sync with his belly. He was like a bowl of gelatin, jiggling and wobbling and far too obese for his raiment. Far too long has Pala sat on the Searim absent participation in political endeavours, he grunted, but before he could even fathom a personal assault, Lieutenant Isooba intervened. So we are assaulting the Lady Commander now, are we, Warlord Z'onzz? We are not here to discuss Pala's political stature, we are here to anticipate Hespith's next advance and, if possible, thwart it. Enough, the Bear growled again, but this time he stood, a man seven feet tall with one eye of flesh and the other of glass. General Stark, as it would seem, you are a capable man. I do not doubt it. In fact, Ammon's appointed generals have each proved to be immensely efficient. York grinned like some child being rewarded for a good deed. Seeing as this meeting clearly has no direction, I will adjurn it until a future date. I will send outriders to each of you when the time is right. Hence forth, Ammon and General Stark will move for Yemen, whereas the rest of you may go about your respective duties. I'll hear no more of this idle banter, especially from you, Z'onzz. I was merely - Merely being a nuisance, the Bear imposed, Out. All of you. I would have words with General Stark.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Warlord Z'onzz seemed to be the type who just wanted to speak and he quickly got on Cain's nerves, especially when he acted as if he knew the outcome of Cain's mission before it even started. Apparently he thought less of Yemen than he should because while the lot of them were drunks and criminals, they were also skilled fighters and sailors. Combine Cain's knowledge of pirates and their like with Ammon's knowledge of Yemen and its reliance on Pala and there was no doubt the pirates would be swayed. That conversation was soon ended though, a giant of a man standing and addressing him, giving him some credit for being picked by Ammon, although if he knew the full story he would probably not think it was such a good thing to be picked by Ammon. York seemed quite happy with the compliment given out to all the chosen generals but Cane did not share that pride, instead he simply stood there without emotion. He was of course surprised when the man ordered everyone but himself out of the room, it was not what he expected, especially on his fist time joining the meeting. He didn't object though, instead just staying silent as people left the room, some looking displeased and others glad to be leaving. Among the displeased was Warlord Z'onzz who obviously disliked any voice other than his own. It wasn't until they all left that Cain moved from his position and close to the table, looking at the person who seemed to want to have words with him, looking the man up and down slowly, trying to get a feel for him. It was hard to figure out who he was behind the bulk, the sheer size of the man making it the only standout feature. He was enormous though and while that meant little in actuality, it was a bit intimidating to see someone so much taller than himself, a trait that was extremely uncommon to such an extreme. With everyone else gone Cain spoke up, his voice calm as usual but rather respectful, May I ask what words you wished to have with me?
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

A request, more so. The Bear unfurled a sheaf of motheaten parchment and began tracing his finger along what appeared to be a depiction of a river etched in blue ink circumscribed by bluffs and fjords. After drinking in his fill he anchored himself back into his chair. It croaked in protest under his weight yet he seemed undisturbed by the notion of it folding. I worry for Ammon and the role she has adopted ... she has leadership in her blood, this much is true, but she is a story teller. For a moment the Bear chuckled. He swirled his wine in his goblet it went the entire gathering without being touched, but a man of his mass could have easily downed several flagons without so much as going red in the cheeks. But that is a story for another time. Ammon is essential to the protection of the Yelapagos, though I do not know if you're aware. He scratched his chin - a teased tuft of stark black hair that limned his jaw and became confused with his sideburns. Pala's triumvirate is a sacred council that predates even the Stone Kingdoms. The Mind, the Body and the Soul, keepers of an ancient force so powerful it's said that their very souls assume the roles of keys to keep it at bay. That being said, I ask that you protect her. She has faith in you, I see this. He seemed almost pained to admit it. There was a brief glimmer of lament in his eyes, but it waned as quickly as his smile. Edmure is as gallant as any but he is plagued by some dark past, and York's arrogance heralds his imminent failure. Thus it falls upon you to see Ammon safely through her task, though I fear you do not yet understand the role you play in the grand scheme of things. The Bear sighed, growing back to his haunches. He circuited around the table and reached for his broadaxe, a weapon similar to Ammon's though much gruesomer in design. That is all I ask of you. Whether you choose to accept or decline, that is your choice.
Thread: Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

Cain listened intently to what the man before him said, not trying to interrupt or rolling his eyes, although when the man started speaking about it being his job to protect her he could almost laugh. Sure he would do his best but she had loyal dogs like Edmure and York to protect her and he didn't understand what the man meant by she seemed to have faith in him. As far as Cain was concerned she had faith in fate and his fate was simply intertwined with hers at this point in time and as soon as that ended so would her seeming interest in him. He could at the very least agree with the man that while Edmure and York were loyal that they both had major flaws. Despite his difference of opinion regarding himself he did know how important Ammon was, not only as a leader of the armies but also as one of the triumvirate in Pala. He was slightly ignorant on how important the triumvirate was in regards to some ancient force but it didn't surprise him, not after all the myth behind them. None of that mattered though, as a general, no matter what he thought, he had the job to lead the armies and protect his commanding officer. So he simply nodded, Do not worry, protecting Ammon is my duty as her subordinate and I will do so to the best of my abilities. Now if that is all I will take my leave, I have some preparing to do before we depart and I need to speak with Ammon as well. With that Cain gave a slight respectful bow before turning and leaving the room with much to think about. His mission was most important, he had to do it for the sake of the war, and even with his curiosity concerning the 'grand scheme of things' he put it aside to focus on what was at hand. Once outside the room he looked around for Ammon but she had seemingly returned to her quarters, perhaps to get ready for the trip ahead. Cain needed to have words with her before gathering the rest of his things so he headed in the direction of her room. As he neared the room he spotted Edmure and York leaving the room and while he was trying to be passive he couldn't help but giving them a small smirk as he passed them, and that got him looks of hate from the pair both of whom on doubt disliked his promotion. It was a short lived moment as Cain turned into Ammon's room, only taking a few steps in before stopping and looking towards her, Ammon, I wanted to come see about our departure. I will not need much time to prepare my things and get a few men together to accompany us, how much time will you need to prepare? He got to the point, the words said to him still in his head and as he awaited an answer he couldn't help but inspect the woman in front of him. She was definitely no lamb in need of protection, she was one of the fiercest people he had ever met. It was hard for him to imagine her needing protection but he would do what he had to, protect the lioness and be sure not to let her come to any harm whilst they were together.