Thread: Far From Home (closed for Magi)

I can do nothing more... We must pray... It must heal on it's... own... The last words that Lamar heard haunted his blackened dreams as he slept, and even when he was awake. The arrow had pierced his flesh just next to his eye and no longer could he see from that eye. It was also far more comfortable to keep both his eyes closed even while he was awake. The pain was bearable, but only by his standards. He was a man who had once walked ten miles with both of his thighs sliced open. A warrior, a terror, a nightmare. Those were his monikers, and now he was the one being haunted by prayers. The devil and the angels, teasing him with glances of life amongst his comrades in hell, or among the believers he'd sent to heaven without a second thought. The irony was that he had no soul, or that was what others said and he gladly obliged their guesses by acting as if he did not. So why would either heaven or hell care where he was going? It didn't matter. Consciousness came and went for weeks. The pain fades from stinging, to throbbing, to annoying, to an itch, and finally it becomes a twitch. The eye worked, but it twitches from time to time. Like many other things Lamar would learn to deal with it. That was what he was best at dealing with things. Rebellious cities, plotting politicians, restless tribes, and even the countries enemies. Whoever was paying the highest would gain his invaluable tactical mind, and his ability to simply strike terror into his enemies. All of his soldiers were one-hundred percent loyal, and unlike other mercenaries they were not fickle for him. Each had been given a new life by the Duke, and each would not hesitate to lay down their life for him. They trained hard, but enjoyed luxury of minor-nobility. Lamar was filthy rich. Not only were his parents nobility, but his conquests were far and wide. The church could not condemn him. His sins had been pardoned by a priest in the Holy Land, so they were forced to support him. The kingdom of France he had by the balls, if it were not for his army the English and the German Huns would both have trampled the countries borders long before. Authority was his in nearly every case, but he only took control when it was needed, for he hated politics and promises. Neither was which he kept gracefully. One of his many sins was carnal, but the stupid priest in Jerusalem had cleansed him of all sins. Not simply the murder and atrocity he had committed in his fight to save the Holy City. Every sin, all of them, and thus he could do whatever he pleased. To anyone he pleased. Families knew to hide their daughters and the mothers knew to hide as well if they were young and slim, for there was a type that the Duke liked specifically. Short, slim, innocent, with a smooth face, sweet voice, and delicate hands and feet. These angelic creatures he would turn into terrified animals, their delicate hands and lips turned to disgusting acts, their innocence ruined with his depraved mind. Lamar enjoyed his games more than anything else. More than food, beer, or killing. His ugly games had two goals. One was to turn their innocent cheeks on fire, and the other one that came later was to turn them into his personal pet without loosing that precious innocence that he desired so greatly. He had yet to accomplish this, but it had only been his desire for the last two slaves. So he was still in practice. Today he road his massive black warhorse to the waters edge where a slave trader the Dawn Midst, was waiting to sell it wears until the black of night. Lamar arrived in the afternoon well before the other customers. His preferential treatment was not only tolerated by the other buyers, but encouraged. If the slavers made a mound of money off of his purchase, they be more likely to be drunk by the time their other wares were on the block in the evening. It matter not that he had the best, and the first pick. All of the other buyers preferred big breasted cows and women who knew what the fuck they were doing. Yet the Dawn Midst often picked up the innocent now, so that they had something to sell the Duke. Today was no different. There were plenty of the small, slim, and innocent. None knew what they were in for. They stood in a line waiting to be inspected for their 'jobs.' Lamar pinched ones ass, and she squirmed. He fingered another ones small breasts, and kissed another neck before inhaling her scent. His mind weighed various things. Finally he came upon a lithe little nymph with long black hair who was watching him nervously out of the corner of her eyes. He bent quite low to whisper in her ear as his strong hand reached out to touch her quivering tummy, Do you ever touch yourself down in you privates little girl? His eyes glanced sharply into hers, reading the answer before she even gives it. Do you like it?