Moar Tags: [everybody cums] [creampie] [pronebone] [skeletal legions watch on] [revenge plot] [missed Halloween by a day] [some grovel-play]

Summary:

Gird yourself for battle, paladin! The Lady of Bones marches towards the village of Willowreed, her legions of the ancient dead clutching weapons in their boney grasp. Take this blessed lance, and strike at the heart of this undead horde!

Also, to answer your earlier question, dear paladin: no, our order is not sworn to chastity. Why do you ask? Mayhaps you wish to celebrate your victory with some wholesome maidens when the fighting is done? That’s the spirit: righteous in the streets, raunchy in the sheets! Go, now, and save the good people of Willowreed!

*clop clop clop*

He better not fuck the necromancer. By Helm, last time someone did that we received little heart-shaped cards made of human skin for months. It’s tacky, and they start to smell after a while. . .

--

From the Goblin:

“I once joined a party intent on taking out a necromancer. ‘You have my sword!’ one cried as we swore our oath. ‘And my bow!’ another replied, and feeling all ‘in the moment’ I pledged myself as well. ‘And my cock!’ I said, causing a few moments of quite pause and then a cacophony of laughter from my companions. The dwarf looked a bit sour, though, tucking the axe he was about to hold aloft back into his belt.

We marched for two days to the crypt the necromantic bint was holed up in, and in the deepest tomb down the darkest hall we found her. She was fucking herself silly with a femur carved into a makeshift dildo, which I found more macabre than arousing.

‘We are the four from Cormyr, witch!’ Hagnar the Hairy cried out, quite pleased he nailed the delivery of that line. The necromancer seemed relieved, tossing the soaked bone in her hand aside and rising to greet us. ‘Can we just skip to the part where I promise to never cast foul magics again and we all fuck?’ she asked, and before you could say ‘redemption arc’ it was on. Four hunky heroes (well, three and I) and one lonely necromancer: the stuff of dreams. Besides the unyielding barrage of ‘big, hard bone’ puns, she was a good lay too, versed in anatomy as she was. I learned what a prostate was that day, and I also learned that I didn’t half mind Hagnar as well. Let’s just say I emerged from that crypt feelin’ a bit funny about the whole ‘ladies only’ policy I had maintained for most of my life.

Even the dwarf was smiling as we made our way back to Suzail, his beard matted from what can only be described as a valiant quest to mine for pussy-juice. Turns out the penis is indeed mightier than the sword, I suppose. I still meet up with Hagnar and ‘the good mage formerly known as Almeeva the Black’ from time to time. She’s running a spooky-but-not-evil Etsy shop, I think, but we still like to roleplay in the crypt when we get the chance.

The paladins here say I am beyond redemption. I’ll accept that, but I can’t help but smile when I see the guards wearing a ‘mean witch’ necklace when Halloween rolls around. If only they knew that their favorite ‘kooky, but probably not sinful’ jewelry provider was once a pretty nasty lady indeed.

Redeemable? Sister, I’m the redeemer.”

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A male paladin? Lo! I half forgot they existed, the Goblin being the author he is. But, it turns out they do exist, and just like their feminine counterparts the Goblin takes great pleasure in writing them into every corner he can find (and a few more besides). Behold! He’s a paladin, she’s a necromancer! He has to save the village. . .And even disarmed, he still has a backup lance hidden away.