The Immolation of White Feather
Turn 2
A Memory of White Feather, continued.
White Feather glances at Winsome Hawk as he
stands near the wall. Her eyes lock with his and she smiles a
bright, lusty smile. She pulls her right hand lightly over her
soft breasts and rests it between her legs, pushing the gauze of
her dress against the junction of the black undergarment. The
human abigail giggles and puts her hand to her mouth, an action
that seems strangely grotesque.
White Feather pulls her hand from her loins and places it on
Korian's head, gently as a whisper. She moves with a grace that
no elf has ever seen. She moves her head in a half circle and her
hair moves from her right shoulder to her left. Korian is
overcome with a gentle frission as energy passes from White
Feather to him.
She speaks to Korian,
"Thou he-elf, I have this way known before
I would that thou wouldst this space understand
That I seek new pleasure, new positions
Therefore I pass my desire o'er you and
Let it rest on this fiery maidenhead."
White Feather lifts her hand from Korian's head and gently places
it in Camille's red hair. Camille feels the soft heat of the
white hand and the gentle pressure on her head, the ticklish
feeling that you sometimes gets when someone else runs their
fingers through your hair.
"Red maiden, songbird of my lusty heart
Wouldst thou accompany me to chambers
This very eve to know more high pleasures
O' the flesh than thou hast known since thy birth?"
Enchandra steps forward, looks at White Feather with little
desire and says "My name is Enchandra, and a Priestess of
Acorn The Oak am I. A devout follower of The All, that which
shelters us, that which feeds us, and that which Loves us all.
Acorn has willed my presence here and that is the Only Reason. I
serve The Oak, the Father of the Wood, and he has brought me here
to the King, to serve and to protect the Wood Elves. The Will of
All be done."
White Feather responds softly and evenly,
"For those that need such celestial staff
God is a god of heart and soul and mind
For those of us with liberated soul
No God can reign our sublime energy.
I have no use for you God, He's nothing.
I'm nothing. Nothing is and nothing was.
To be or not to be, that is the question."
(OOG: Forgive my theft from the Bard. It's a great line, and it
perfectly fits White Feather.)
Almost haphazardly, before you can respond to her religious
philosophy, White Feather speaks again, questioning you of your
purpose and your coming mission.
"Art thou to wrestle, burn twice-live undead
In a conflagrated witches fire?
I'd to see such a ghastly pagan sight,
And dance upon their twice-smoldering skulls.
"With flowers in my hair [sniffs her left wrist] scent on my
wrists.
A white, white taffeta long thin gown
I'd float o'er the curvature of my breasts.
[She gently removes her hand from Camille's hair, pulling the
strands through her fingers, slowly, sensually, erotically.]
A white, white cottoned and small-cut cloth
I'd wrap about the pure folds of my loins.
[She runs both hands to her loins and gently strokes. She moans.]
A black and black silken undergarment
I'd pull atop my round, firm supple hips.
A red, red hyacinth I'd tie upon my maidenhead
For any lusty elf son to pluck off.
(OOG: Please look up the word maidenhead in a dictionary, and you
will know exactly what White Feather is attempting to communicate.
She is being highly suggestive.)
About these fiery scarecrows I would spin
And turn and whirl myself into a glow.
Until a he-elf like you cooled my head with
[pulls Korian to his feet and clasps him in a soft hug]
The stiffness of his elfish upright leg.
I'd writhe and rise and thrust and thirst and spin
Upon the rock abdomen of this good elf.
And then when he was 'bout to bear his fruit
I'd push down hard and squeeze him as a vice.
He'd sweetly dew me then with his white viscose
And I would kiss him long and deep and hard
For cooling me on a hot summer's eve.
White Feather motions for Camille to rise and still hugging
Korian she kisses Camille deeply. She releases Korian and takes
Camille into her arms. They press together in a homoeroitic
embrace. White Feather kneads Camille's shapely buttocks and
releases her as well. White Feather and the abigail turn swiftly
to leave the King's antechamber. The abigail giggles again,
almost an evil sneer.
Turn 2 Character Reactions
Camille
Camille's eyes drift up to meet White Feather's, shining with
hopeless adoration that brightens into ecstasy at the princess's
private invitation. Her fiery mane tumbles down over one shoulder
as the exquisite White Feather
removes her silken fingers from the curls. Camille watches,
enraptured, as the princess strokes herself, then stares Korian
full in the face when he rises and receives White Feather's
embrace. Having not long to wait for her own
physical contact with the princess, Camille rises slowly and
returns her sensual kiss with fervor, still watching
Korian's face with a slightly hungry expression. Her smooth
cheeks and decolletage flush with her arousal.
When at last she is released, Camille, wearing a slightly dreamy
expression, stands still and watches the princess depart. Her
pretty face tightens briefly at the sight of the snickering
abigail, then settles into its normally impish expression. "I'll
show her a positively pagan sight in her bedchamber this eve,"
she murmurs to herself, smirking lustily. She turns and looks at
Enchandra and Winsome with a start, as if remembering for the
first time that there were people in the antechamber besides
herself, the princess, and Korian. Her lips widen into a rakish
grin, and she shakes her head once more, this time in disbelief.
"What a woman!" she sighs.
Winsome
In a voice that is but a whisper, from the shadows Wisome Hawk
recites:
"I have seen the sun today, she of flame
and grace.
I did speak the sun twas a she in this story and place...
and not a he as is often the orbs historical face.
But the moon was I in an unusual twixt of fate and tale.
Imagining the power and force she did curtail...
Watching and demurring behind my reflected veil.
A drift in the velvety cosmic stream, I watched her passion's
game.
I saw that all creation bowed to her the same...
Each and every doomed as moth's upon the flame.
Love is blind and such is its tale, but of lust is a different
potent flower.
Upon lust reason is but a suicidal fool, leaping from its flaming
tower...
And in her wake the even the brightest sun has a shadow, vain
with power."
Enchandra
Enchandra blinks once as White Feather claims to have no use for
Acorn The Oak. Enchandra can only think that the true meaning of
her words was misconstrued somehow as it does not matter if the
Lady has any use for the God Acorn. True understanding comes with
the realization that nothing truly IS without Lord Acorn. "Ah
well, the young must have their own thoughts too."
With the end of that thought comes the realization that White
Feather is still talking, and making obvious fools out of almost
everyone. At least that is the thought at hand for the Priestess.
She turns her back on the proceedings and sits back down in the
living chair, allowing herself to feel the cool wood beneath her
smooth buttocks more clearly. An almost sensual feeling of the
heat from her body melding with the living plant beneath her
develops and Enchandra gives a small sigh as she feels the heat
under her body transfer to the wood. Someone watching this would
take it as lust for White Feather, but then would notice that she
does not look to the stunning Maiden, but to the floor beneath
her feet, her eyes glazed as she imagines the heat from her body
swept along the capillaries of the living structure of the
building around them all. "Acorn, you truly are All."
she whispers to herself, almost oblivious to the scene unfolding
around her.
Enchandra does catch the rest of White Feathers seductions and
the forbidden kiss that is lustfully presented. The Priestess
says nothing and watches impassively as the embrace ends and
pities the loss of perspective that White Feather and the others
in the room must be experiencing. "In time, they shall
learn," she thinks to herself.
Korian sighs and states something about White Feather being the
most beautiful creature in existence. A sharp retort forms on
Enchandra's tongue, but she bites back for once deciding that
pointing out the beauty of a Doe with her new-born Foal would be
wasting words on an unreceptive mind.
Instead she focuses on the task at hand and says, "Yes, It
is time to see the King. Such dalliances do not suit the Winter
Wolves." Saying Winter Wolves sends a chill down
Enchandra's spine, as she pictures once again the pain of the
battle with Grotneg. But she smiles as she remembers the costly
victory that the Winter Wolves had achieved.
She stands and waits impatiently at the door to the antechamber,
frustrated now at the delay, a pose the party would become
familiar with as well...
Korian
I turn, with a look of severe longing and release a deep sigh.
"Well wolves, I think we can all agree that she is the most
beautiful creature to ever grace our existence. Her luxurious
hair, and her magical touch, so, so..." A look of
serious thought crosses my face. " Magical? hmmm. No, The
gods alone could grace a person with such perfection. You will be
who you are. magic cannot change such things." Whatever the
case, we have a mission Wolves. Lets
find King Sparrowhawk."
Turn 2 Epilogue
As White Feather Walks out of the King's antechamber into the
bustling palace beyond, she slides to Winsome Hawk, who is
hovering near the wall.
"That was a sensuous verse, my fine hard elf."
She cups Winsome's manhood in her small hand, and she kisses him
deep, long. With her other hand, she angles his right thigh
between her legs, and she quickly girates, up, down, left, right.
She enter's Winsome's hot mouth with her tongue, probing. White
Feather hums a soft moan, "O God." Her chest heaves red
heat. She quickens. Her face pulls into a grimace of ecstacy.
Moaning, moving, "Yes." White Feather screams. The
abigail giggles.
Feeling the sweet pleasure of release, White Feather releases
Winsome Hawk. Her face cools faster than it had ignited. She
looks at her abigail and motions toward the portal. The abigail
places her hand on a knot in the wood near the enclosure and the
portal oscillates open with a woody creak.
White Feather looks back through the opening in the living wooden
palace. She drills into Camille's soul with ocular chlorophyl.
She stares, a brief moment. An eternal passion flares. White
Feather seems to glow in the light of the palace beyond,
sillouetted in the door. A near smile breaks the plane of her
lips. Her chest heaves, recent passion burning her maidenhead.
"Camille, thou shalt 'company me to bed.
Come child, and we shall beat wild rhythms.
Thou shalt not reap dark harvest of the King
I'll tell him of our dallience right quick.
Come to bed, in bed tight-wrapped may we come."
White Feather and the abigail step through the portal and into
the greater palace. For a moment, you can see elves, humans,
dwarves, gribblets and dryads all bustiling here and there. The
antechamber is suddenly filled with the noise of their movement
and the low hum of their unintelligible conversations.
Turning back, Camille watches
White Feather's display with Winsome, and her eyes glitter with
an odd mixture of throbbing lust and aching envy. She seems about
to speak when the princess suddenly moans, pulls away, and
requests her immediate company.
Camille shifts her weight a bit, rubbing one leg against the back
of the other as she fidgets. The peaks of her erect nipples are
clearly visible through her tunic, a clear sign of her arousal.
With an slight, impish smirk at Winsome and Korian, Camille
saunters up to the portal, and follows the princess inside
without hesitation. The night they share is -- heavenly, orgasmic.
Camille's erotic prowess was ever after hailed in the Kingdom of
the Wood. For centuries, bards used the events of this passionate
eve as fodder for ballads, epics and bawdy lymricks. Red
Squirrel, a noteable bard of the age, composed the following
lymrick in commemoration of White Feather's union with Camille.
If Lust were a Wild Flower
By: Red Squirrel
Right Bard of the Most Noble, Exalted King Sparrowhawk II
Notably recited for the King on the occasion of EvenSun in the
hundred eighty fourth year of his reign.
If lust were a marble wildflower
It would shape itself as a tower
Grown taller and higher
It would long be erect
The scent of all masculine power.
If lust were a fiery red curl
A lady would writhe on her swirl
Both upping and downing
And downing and upping
She'd thrice copulate as a good girl.
If lust were a comely White Feather
And Camomile opened 'er heather
The red portal'd be white
The white portal'd be red
And thus they would both come together.
During your meeting with King Sparrowhawk, you were knighted for
protecting the Darkwood Elves from Ogre Grotneg, and King
Sparrowhawk immediately sent you on a mission to recover an
ancient map of southern Darkwood from the Long Cave west of High
Home. You were successful and the fame of the Winter Wolves
became even greater in the Wood.