Thread: The Overdue Destruction of House Vorn

Jarikk listened to the request and scurried off. He was an impressive sight for his kind, in all respects. He stood at a very nice three feet and eight inches tall, making him rather statuesque for his breed. His black hair was tied back and kept in a ponytail so it was out of the way, as it had never been cut. He often wore it around his neck, as it had grown rather long in his thirty four years of life, yet it was never in the interest of his master to have it cut and Jarikk wouldn't dream of asking Ryltar for any special treatment like that. His body was firm and taut, his seventy-seven pounds of body weight nearly pure muscle. His skin was a light lavender, bred into him specially by the Goblin Breeders of House Vorn. His eyes were a pale orange with a vibrant slit of black across them. They were smart, and held a vast depth that was often ignored by the elves in his daily life. He wore an outfit that he knew Ryltar enjoyed, one that showed off his body some and yet showed he had no hidden weapons on him. He knew how important it was for Ryltar to know that Jarikk only had his utility knife on him unless they went outside and he was not going to take that pleasure away from the elf he had come to love. As he maneuvered towards the kitchen his mind wandered, back to when he was twenty four and Ryltar was fourteen. He had been coming to check on Ryltar and see if he was okay after a day of studies and he had seen something he should not have. Ryltar had been laid out on his bed, his hands on his erect member while he stroked it. Jarikk hadn't known how long Ryltar had been feeling sexual urges, but he knew the man had figured out what to do on his own. He had been stunned and watched, listening to the sounds coming from his master. He had watched the culmination as well, the light semen splattered like sensual pearls upon the dark skin of Ryltar. It had probably helped the day before that Ryltar had even commented on him, giving him praise for the first time ever in public. It had made Jarikk feel like a true person, and cemented his love for the elf. The display he had seen had cemented his lust. He felt deplorable of course, his age higher than his ward and his own disgusting race, yet he had still imagined. He came to carrying a tray of soup, bread, spider meat from a food spider, and tasty wall fungus from the dark caves. His footsteps were silent as he came into the room and laid it at the side for his master, bowing to him formally, I got what I could of your favorites, sir Vorn. The tea is brewing in the cup still and I made it myself so there is no chance of poisoning. I will humbly test it for you if you wish, as always my lord. It was common rote for him now, but he knew it was most likely not needed. He had been bringing Ryltar food for ages and making sure no poison dared touch the palette of his prized ward. He stepped back and got a chair and pulled it close, sitting down with his hands folded in his lap, his own nails trimmed precisely for maximum usefulness. His eyes took in the form of his lord and he gave a toothless smile, his lips folded tight on what he viewed were ugly fangs. I learned a new tale. I do think you will like it, sir Vorn. It is about Nytrizz Valshae, the cleric hero of Vhaeraun. Of course, your female siblings would call him an upstart, may Lolth find them wanting. I have a tale of his top-world adventures, one where he triumphs over Matron Caldishee. I am not certain if it is a tale only, or truth. Be your own judge, my potent lord. The tale begins in the light that blinds the blessed, His tale was a nice one, his clipped elven making it sound like a perfect narration. He watched and cleaned up Ryltar when necessary, making sure everything was perfect. He wanted the drow male before him to feel special and cared for, even if it was just for a brief period of time. He always strove for that. He ended the tale with the death of the Matron, her blindness to the fact a male could be as clever as herself being her downfall as her own suitor, seduced and taught the ways of Vhaeraun's love by Nytrizz's own hands, slit her throat with a dagger as she slept. I hope the tale was to your liking, Sir Vorn.