TS - Day 04 - Bisanthium.

[Kalamos]

Dreams of Grandeur.

Active Character:
Phoros Visgana.

You are wide awake well before dawn.
Time is of the essence; you can almost feel the sands of time slipping through your fingers, painfully tearing you far and far away from your life-task and personal obsession: overthrowing Duke Vigos Galthari Visgana, your father.

You count your meager savings, and decide you can safely skip breakfast: you hunger power, not food.

If they followed your orders by heart, your ragtag army of "selected" drunkards should be leaving the city now.

You strongly doubt they'll ever wake in time, let alone set foot outside Bisanthium without drinking themselves sick - but you trust your two bands of professional bawds and ruffians to succesfully track your intermediated targets down and promptly report back to you.

Soon.

 

[Kalamos]

Started Day 04.

 

[Duke Diablo]

This day was crucial to Phoros, who needed money as a good starting point in his 'career'. He knew what to do next: he needed to gain the trust of a wealthy local merchant, and he knew just the way to his heart: the title of a nobleman. Merchants, who had lots of money, craved for only one thing money couldn't buy: title and place amongst nobles. So, Phoros could easily find a man with whom he could come into arrangement with: Phoros would marry his daughter and give him the titile of Duke once he owerthrows his father, and in return, the merchant would support his cause financially.
Still feeling sorry for not mentioning 'penalty for failure is death' part to his loyal cretins, Phoros left the inn to search for a wealthy merchant who would give anything to get into higher rank of society... even dance with the devil. Phoros also intended to get deep into recent events by finding some(preferably female) informants who he could 'persuade' to give HIM the information they intended to give to whoever they worked for. And he intended to fully heed the advice of his mentor about unmasking informants: "Those who look most innocent are often the most guilty." His trainer was a veteran, but he seemed to know as much of espionage and getting by in the streets as of combat, and he was a very skillfull fighter.

 

[Kalamos]

Revolution Must Wait.

Phoros strolls by the foreign quarter. He hates waiting for others to do his biddings, so he tries to squeeze time and never stay idle.

Apparently, vigiles closed the lower city, and they are searching strangers as they leave or get inside Maxiamorea.

City is abuzz with startling news: Phoros overhears traders saying that guardsmen are looking for the accomplices of a murderer. During a private party, a group of criminals broke in, and slew an affluent merchant, in cold blood.

The slaughterer is reputedly a demon or a rogue mage of enormous power: he singlehandedly fended off a whole squad of vigiles, and then flew away, nearly destroying a whole insula.

Authorities, rumors hold, are also looking for the personal bodyguard of the slain merchant.
He had been probably bribed to let the murderers in, and fled thereafter.

A friend and partner in trades of the victim has been mugged in the night, as well.
The knaves were careless, though, and a lot of people noticed them skulking around the scene of the murder, before making it for Arthenas, or maybe Asperum, due west.

Phoros can't help blessing the loquacious nature of Bisanthi populance: while his ruffians were probably tied up, and will be late this evening, he found a good wealth of informations.

This will undoubtedly help Phoros and his cause.

 

[Duke Diablo]

Phoros could not believe his luck. Not only he got a bagfull of information, but he also had a plan how to use these informations to his advantage. He knew that merchant's friends and bussines partners would be searching for murderers, and, rumors being what they are, it could easily be assumed that it was the work of a demon, he could blame the whole thing on Ragylos. Of course, piecing the rumors together, it came as natural to him to assume that the 'dragonman' was the real murderer, so Phoros had one more ace up his sleeve this way. Finding out who was one of the most important partners of the deceased was easy, and Phoros could not believe his luck when he heard that the person he was looking for was an twenty-year old merchant Teuta Maissilianus, who inherited her trading emporium from her parrents who died several months ago, convicted for treason or some such nonsense. She would be perfect for Phoros's future plans. First thing, he went into Teuta's house, using his title and (in appropriate amounts) arrogance characteristic to nobles to gain entry.
Teuta was a very attractive girl, and she was aware of it. Phoros knew he had to be carefull about her. He introduced himself to lady Maissilianus in courtly fashion. After a courteous kiss of hanf and a few compliments on her beauty, Phoros told her that he knows that she had been a partner to the deceased merchant and that he grieves for her loss.
«But», he continued, «this is not time for grief, it is time for action. You've lost your partner, surely a good friend, and with him also, a portion of the market, because of these murderers. And, if the informations I got are correct, we have a common enemy, for the assasin was most probably a demon, and I know only of one demon around here: Ragylos. And that's why I have come. I, too, have reasons for hating him, but I am afraid I cannot confront him with my own armies, they don't stand a chance on themselves, but with a little help from your troops, we could be victorious over the demon.»
Teuta wasn't impressed, Phoros could see that. So, he offered her all land they conquered together and a title of a noble in exchange for her help. He offered her to marry him, and become dutchess Visgana when his father dies, for he was the duke's oldest son, and the position, and its power, would be rightfully his by birthright.
«If you think you are rich and influental now, think how much times would that increase with the title of dutchess. For title is the only thing money can't buy.»
Phoros waited Teuta's response.

 

[Kalamos]

Bisanthium - Maissilianus's Villa.

Teuta Maissilianus listens to Phoros's plan carefully.
She smiles, and nods gently, apparently never missing a word.

"Marriage? Your offer is quite generous, Kayre... Visgana?"
Teuta smiles again.

"But I feel Kayre Kosqati's relatives would benefit from your..." she gestures briefly "...military support better than I could."

"They are currently exposing the body at their Villa."

Phoros stares back, quizzically.

"You could pay the Kosqati family a visit, and express your condolences on Ayal's..." she sniffs softly "untimely departure."

She nods, and before he can reply, a servant silently steps by Phoros, showing him the way out.

"Goodbye, Kayre Visgana."

The reinforced doors close behind Phoros; a mechanism clicks loudly.

 

[Duke Diablo]

Phoros couldn't help himself but feel a little disappointed by Teuta's refusal. Not because she could help him, lots of others could, but they weren't as pretty as her. Nevermind, if this sucseeds, he will be able to choose from ladies. Anyway, he decided a slight change of plan: he will attack Ragylos NOW! He went to Kosquati family and paid his respects for the deceased. Then, he blamed the whole thing on Ragylos using his sweet words, like at Teuta's. Then, he asked for military support.
"My troops will need your support, howewer, for Ragylos may be on his own, but he is powerfull", he said. "I need seven of your men, to help me fight the beast. In return, I offer you two thirds of gold we find, and the creature's head and heart. What say you?"

 

[Kalamos]

Storming the Funeral.

Finding and entering the Kosquati mansion is relatively easy.
It is not too far from Teuta's villa, just a quick walk uphill.

In old Tharagyan fashion, they exposed the deceaded in the foyer, allowing people in to mourn and carry their condolences; nobody stops the armoured stranger, at the entrance, when he marches in.

Inside, black-clad women cry and wail, supposedly to take the burden of sorrow on themselves, and maybe speed the departure of the soul.
To Phoros, they only make the whole scene unbearably noisy and downright pathetic.

Approaching Ayal's relatives is another matter altogether; he must wait in a queue, before they can talk to him. Kayre Kosqati had a lot of contacts, in Bisanthium.
While his death conveniently made a lot of debts void, nevertheless many people come to pay their respects to the dead.

It is well past noon, when Ayal's brother, Aybel, can finally grant Phoros audience.

Phoros is almost frothing: they made him wait with those crying hags, before a stinking corpse!
A lesser man would have snapped. Their neck.

Finally seated, Phoros carefully controls himself, when explaining his plans to Aybel, trying to be as urbane and well-spoken as he is capable of.

"Ragylos, you say?"
Aybel is a well groomed man of Aygosian ancestry in his late 40s.
He caresses his short beard, pondering Visgana's words.

The future duke nods, slowly.

"And you need seven men..." the merchant keeps playing with a small, folded note "...to eliminate the fiend that slaughtered my brother."

He stares back at Phoros, silently, tapping the note on his chin.

"You are a friend of my family, then. I thank you for your support. Warmly."
His eyes shine with a cold, steelike, light.

He scribbles something on a piece of paper.
"Take this. Now, please, leave me to my suffering."

Aybel claps his hands. A tall, muscular servant steps by Phoros.
"Dear, show our guest the way out."



The Note from Aybel Kosqati.

Phoros's disappointment is growing.

Tharagyan merchants are clearly weak willed and slow to act.
It is a mystery how they could amass their wealth.

Phoros would have expected Aybel to jump at the chance of veanging his brother's death. Instead, the spineless sniveller simply wrote a note, and dismissed him, like sending out a beggar!

Well, at least Phoros has to bear with the wailing no longer.
He strides by the lane, anxious to read.

When he finally finds a shady nook, far from prying eyes, he allows himself a peek.
Better be something useful!

Phoros deciphers the shaky handwriting, barely.
Curses! He is a man of action! He can't be bothered with literature!

At least the note is no dead-end.
Apparently, Aybal is directing him to a friend of his, a Bregan something.
He can be found at sundown, at a... Phoros can't be sure... Dragonwhatever.

The warrior spells the word, slowly.
"D-Dragon's Way". An establishment of some kind, he muses.

The sun is still high on the western sky.
Phoros's stomach is grumbling, and he had no news from his hired hands.

A pox on all Tharagya! Phoros will show them, weaklings, when he'll be duke.
Duke Phoros Visgana Galthari... ah, that sounds glorious!

 

[Duke Diablo]

Phoros was enraged! This was even worse than tasting poisons which he was forced to every day by old man, Valentine! At least now he was highly resistant to poisons and had a steel constitution, but his patience was at end with these merchants!

Phoros decided to strike at Ragylos NOW!

He went to the tavern and found out that no man left yet! While this was good, he was a bit frustrated by their lack of discipline. So, he told them:
"Men, we are going to fight Ragylos NOW, as warriors I know we all are! He is powerfull, but more than that, he is UNBELIEVABLY RICH and he is one against many! We will kill him and loot his cave, and then we will be rich as kings themselves!"The drunks cheered him in one voice, as their morale grew.

Perfect!, Phoros thought as he repeated his scheme in his head: Boost the men's morale so high that they don't flee Ragylos, then take the escape tunnel in his cave to sneak up on him while he kills the drunkards.

Phoros made a mental note to himself that, when all of this is over and he becomes duke, he will have Teuta kidnapped secretly and then he will make her pay for making him spend all morning listening to that annoying wailing at Kosquati's. He knew that the guilt wasn't ALL hers, but the thought of her tied up in his dungeon and pleading for mercy while he tickles her without mercy aroused him and cheered him up a bit.

Phoros cheered up a bit at this thought, and ordered his men to move out, constantly talking about the riches and glory(well, more about the riches) that await them once they slay Ragylos.

This day might turn out not to be so bad after all...

(OOC: I did this so we can come to the tickling part more quickly. All that scheming is more fun when there is some tickling involved.)

 

[Kalamos]

All Hail the King! Hips!

The men cheers and raise their cups, goblets, and ill-assorted glasses to Phoros.

Thanks to the intoxicating amount of alcohol they have been guzzling down, they are barely aware of their surrounding, and they keep laughing and mock-saluting their most benevolent benefactor.

The future duke felt he had them in his steel-like grasp.
They adored him, he believed, and he figured he'd only have to order them out of the gods-forkasen tavern, and put them on the right track.

And they'd willingly sacrifice themselves for his glory, while he crept in the shadow, carving his way in Tharagyan history.



Drunken Arses!

Maybe putting the drunken sods in the right track requires more planning than expected.

Phoros is turning beet-red with wrath: the blundering fools can bare stand, let alone walk.
Some do raise from their seats, only to collapse to the floor, in sodden heaps.

A few manage to reach the doorway, only to end up sick, and throwing up on the pavement.

The innkeeper glares at Phoros, poking him back with a broomstick.

"Are they friends of yours... kayre?" the rotund, balding man tries to clean up the mess.

Phoros is about to retell his dreams of grandeurs - that they are his troops, and they will face the feared demon, Ragylos, and they'll have the honour to serve the new Duke Visgana Galthari - when the keeper's outstretched hand freezes him in his tracks.

"If they are, kayre, then please pay up and take them out."

Phoros is about to reach for his pouch, when he realizes he already paid for the drunkards up yesteday, and he can barely afford board and lodging for himself, tonight!

Revolution can't live on glory alone...
It needs support. And none will come from fickle ruffians like these.



Where Least Expected...

The tavern keeper lowers his hand.
"Oh well..." he sighs "It's on them, again."

He resumes cleaning, mopping up the floor with a wet rag.

Phoros is about to leave the locale, determined to reach Ragylos by himself, should it be, when, unexpectedly, the keeper calls him back.

"Spare a moment of your time, if you will..." he blurts, while cleaning.
"What was that Ragout thing you were talking about, kayre?"

Sensing opportunity, Phoros quickly sums up the story, avoiding the grisly bits.

"Ah... Ragylos you say..." the tavern keeps stops, leaning over his broom.

"Once I heard a legend, about Ragydum, the sunken citadel..." he tells, scratching his uneven chin.
"They say it rose admist a lake, south of Bisanthium."

Phoros stares back at the keeper.

"Maybe it is the same place you are looking for..." he muses.
"but if it is... it is at least three days from here."

"Make them five..." he raises five chubby fingers.
"considering the treacherous swampland".

He resumes wiping, half-heartedly.
"No sane person would set out at sunset, with a cadre of drunkards, blundering in the dark, like blind mice."

Phoros glares back at the tavern keeper.

"Oh, but I'm just a fat old fool." he sniffs "What do I know?"

 

[Duke Diablo]

Well, something good happened to Phoros today for a change. Tavernkeeper helped him much more than those wusses that call themselves merchants. Phoros thanked the tavernkeeper and hugged him friendly, almost crying.

"Thank you, good man, you don't know how much help you just gave me", Phoros said cheerfully, then continued in hushed voice, so that the drunks couldn't hear him. "And you must know that I am no longer a sane man. If I was, I wouldn't be attacking a demon with this army." He looked at his drunks.

"Now, to get them moving." He sighed, then turned to his drunks, shouting. "Men! We're going south! They built a citadel there, and are offering free drinks to anyone who comes there in four days from now. You can drink and eat and have all the women you want if you come there in four days top!"

Now, thought Phoros, if this doesn't move them, nothing will. His thoughts of Teuta tied in dungeon suddenly started coming back.

 

[Kalamos]

Bisanthium - Outer Wall Curtain.

Ragtag Army.

The innkeeper shakes his head deeply, resuming his cleanings.

Phoros manages to assemble a dozen strong party of drunken ruffians.
The innkeeper is lecturing a lifeless lump covered with vomit, apparently telling him he'll have for it, tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a day laden with hope, for Phoros: he must lead his hirelings to glory, or death. Preferably glory for him and death for the blundering fools...


Taking the blubbering idiots outside is a task in itself: they keep singing, and laughing, and hobbling aimlessly.

Sun is setting. Phoros can smell cooking: evening is coming, and they are still a mile far from the nearest gate.



Stop and State Your Business!

The ill-assorted group of drunkards miracolously avoids roving squads of Vigiles; they finally reach the Outer Wall Curtain, more or less painlessly.

Red and ivory-white walls rise from the ground, fully encircling Bisanthium with a strong, impregnable defense line.

People come. People go. It is almost dusk and traffic is relatively light: traders packed their goods and they are now slowly carting them outside.

Vigiles check the travellers, but they seem more concerned with keeping trouble-makers out, rather than holding travellers in.

Every cart is assessed a fee, and traders grudgingly pay the toll.


The ruffians blunder into a large Kathic cart, upturning it and sending merchandise flying everywhere.

Phoros can't stop the unavoidable: short, stocky Kathic traders starts cursing at the drunkards; the drunks yell back, swearing at them, at their wives, and at half of their family.
The Kathes shout back, throwing threats: knives flash.

Vigiles storm in.


What next?
Will Phoros meld in the crowd, leaving the fools to their fate?
Or will he try and talk his way out, relying on his wits and charms?

 

[Duke Diablo]

This is not good! Damn those fools! Phoros thought as he quickly stopped to think about his next move.

Now, if he runs, those damn Vigiles will follow him and the drunks will certainly blame the whole thing on him. Now, having a search party after him and hiding just because some drunk fool did something stupid, wasn't exactly what Phoros needed.

If he doesn't run, well, those merchants will certainly ask for a fee for their lost cargo. Also, he has a chance to save his stupid 'helpers', who need to reach Ragylos, at least(and at most).

Thinking about it for a few quick seconds, Phoros raised his hands and shouted as loud as he could: «OK, people! Everybody! Calm down!» Nothing.

Then, in the crowd, Phoros saw a Kathic trader charging on him with a knife in his hand. Phoros dodged the knife, took it out of the trader's hand(he was a trained fighter, after all), and sheated it in the merchant's belt.

Then, he told the merchant, but as loud as he could, so everybody could hear him: «Now, are we going to continue this unnecessary fighting, or are we going to act as civil men I know we all are!?»

 

[Kalamos]

A quick Action for Phoros, before Tanandra and Rilian act.


Tact and Diplomacy.

The merchants stand speechless, in utter bewilderment.
Vigiles grin and nudge each others, pointing at the lecturing young man.

The Kathic trader wrestles free from Phoros's grasp, and raises a clenched fist.
"How d-d-dare..." he stutters, steaming with anger.

The folks around start laughing at him, making faces at the hapless trader.
He is almost shaking with embarassment and wrath.

One of his colleagues, however, steps in, and claps politely.

"Good speech." he smirks, in that heavily accented lingo of his.
"But words do not pay for our troubles."

Huh oh...

"Aye!" a second trader dives in, sensing opportunity.
"They stumbled into our cart. Our merchandise is in pieces!"

"We want a refund!" says a third, tucking cheap jewelry under his shirt.

Oh, please...

"Aye! A refund!" the Kathes start yelling together; the humbled trader now wears a smug smile, daring Phoros to reply.

 

[Duke Diablo]

Phoros expected this was going to happen, and he had an idea how to solve this inconvinience. He put on a warm smile, and said: "Of course you deserve to be paid. It would be very uncivilized not to pay for the damage caused by my own... men. However, I do not have that much money here and now, but I do have it stored in a safebox at Aybel Kosquati's mansion. I believe ten thousand gold pieces would be enough for your precious lost goods, yes?" Merchants all noded. "Good! Go to Kosquati mansion and retrieve the money. But, there is a password, a bit unusual, but it is the only thing potential thieves wouldn't think of. Tell him:'We have come to piss in the mouth of your dead brother and make you die an agonizing death, pig.'" The Kaths started muttering in disbelief.
"You lie!", yelled one of them, but Phoros just laughed.
"You see!", he continued. "Nobody would believe it as a password, but that is why we put it that way. It was Aybel's great idea actually! I thought of something less insulting, like 'i've come to collect', but he insisted that we do it this way, because anyone could barge in and say that, possibly robbing me of my ten thousand gold pieces! And make sure you bring him this note from me so he recognizes you. If you don't give him this note, he might take that as an insult." He quickly pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote upon it: "Dear friend, give these men what is rightfully theirs. Signed: Serpent"
Phoros handed out the note to the merchants and said: "Don't worry, just say Serpent sent you and say the password, and ten thousands are yours, by every right."

 

[xtxlx]

Tandy was glad to be back in civilization, in Bisanthium. It had been a most profitable journey indeed.

"Well now Rilina, here we are home again. Now of course I couldn't have imagined the apothecary I was rescuing had such a interesting and checkered life."

It was just coincidence that the courtyard they were passing was holding court to a slave auction. Stocks were set up, each one holding a very desperate looking girl. Wealthy slavers and merchants inspected the tickle toys carefully.

The girls were more afraid of the packs of children that invariably assembled when tickle slaves were up for auction. The merchants might test a slaves' soles, but the children would simply pounce on them like fresh meat in front of a wolf. They would tickle and scrape and skritch them to insane bouts of giggling madness. The auctioneers usually didn't mind - a tickle slave should be squirming, as it proves their uncontrollable sensitivity, and thus their sale price would go up.

Tandy made sure Rilina looked long and hard at the delicious scene as they passed. "You really should thank me for saving you from that. If it weren't for me, a ticklish little girl like you would be sold in an instant. And then... oh my, I dare say those tickly toes of yours wouldn't have a moment's peace."

Of course Tandy might decide to sell Rilina after extracting all the value of of her anyway...

 

[ticklishrilina1]

Rilina just sighs as, of course, they go right by the Courtyard where the stocks are and the girls are being tickled. Of course Rilina knows the browsers are worse than the buyers; when she was a girl her friends wanted her to go with them. And if she wouldn't, some times they would just turn on her.

And give her at least the same treatment, sometimes more.

"Thank you, Miss Tandy." She replies submissively at Tandy's prompting; she doesn't want to be tickled again, of course, so she's doing whatever she can to avoid it.

And look, the youngsters are coming on the girls, and a keening of laughter begins. Ten, twenty of them appear in droves and head toward the poor, helpless girl.

Rilina tries to turn away slightly horrified.

 

[xtxlx]

Tandy wanted Rilina to see this, even to having the coachman stop the carriage. "Now Rilina, this you'll want to see. It's just ever so fun."

One girl was getting the worst of it. A gang of young boys were working her over much to the amusement of the crowd.

A slightly larger boy was directing the show. Boys were poking at her sides and belly, and making the girl squeal and twist. "Come on, slave, tell the crowd what you want! Tell them or you get it under the arms too!"

That must have been her worst spot, because she shook her head wildly at the threat. "B-huu-hu-ut I cannnn't!! Pleeeez no!"

The boy shrugged. "Ok, Jake, Nate... give it to her!"

Two more boys started in, scraping under her arms. At first touch the poor tickle toy began to howl... "NOOOOOOOO! I'll say it, I'll say-ha-ha-say it..."

They let up as the leader looked on. "Ok, slave, say it nice and loud so the crowd can hear you."

Tears were coming down the girl's cheeks as she muttered something. "What? Come on, slave, speak up!"

With an embarrassed, tear-stained face she shouted "I'm a tickle slave! Tickle my feet!!" The crowd roared its' approval. Some even threw coins to the boy running the show.

Holding up two bristle brushes, the boy was all smiles. "Well now, we can't disappoint her, can we?"

Tandy let the carriage continue even as the girl's intoxicating laughter grew louder and louder. Winking at Rilina, she said "I don't suppose YOU want something, do you?"

 

[ticklishrilina1]

Rilina just sighs as she watches this, the girl is about her own age, and has a good long life of tickling ahead of her. The boys were so cruel, but sometimes the girls could be almost as cruel as well; depends on the sex of the tickle slave, and the want of the girls.

Rilina just looks over at Tandy, and lets out a sigh; unlike Luna, she hated to see this kind of thing.

"I want to help her, Miss Tandy." She responds, unsure of herself, unsure of what she can do.

"I feel bad for her because I know what it feels like. Knows what it's like to have those boys, although not those ones specifically, making you beg to be tickled and then /doing/ it."

 

[xtxlx]

Mercy was not on Tandy's mind. To her, ticklish girls should be tickled endlessly and tormented mercilessly. Especially when they are as sensitive as Rilina.

"You poor dear!", smiled Tandy. "It must be terrible... being so helpless... so ticklish... thinking at any moment you might get pounced on and tickled half to death..." Tandy gently stroked Rilina's arm and considered doing exactly that.

"So then you were tickled a lot, hmm? Rival girls perhaps? We have a few minutes before we reach my house, so you can tell me the awful things they would do to you."

Reaching an arm behind Rilina, she perches her fingers over those lovely underarms and begins to tease her. "I hope it is an interesting story, Rilina." If not, Tandy reasons, her giggles and squeals would have to suffice.

 

[ticklishrilina1]

Rilina just sighs again, as she is in the process of trying to avoid being tickled...again. There is a shake of her head, and then she settles back in to try to tell h er story to satisfaction.

"There were these three girls; Meyra, Ilana, and Eriala, and they thought that tickling was just the greatest thing in the world, and did it to /eeeeveryone/ they could get their grubby little hands on. They were all pretty, they all had perfectly manicured nails, and they all had fairly powerful parents. In fact, one of their fathers is one of the top slavers in the city, the other is the head of the Bisanthium guards, and the third is a powerful trader. And their daughters are all inheriting their positions slowly."

Rilina sighs, pausing at this point. "In fact, all three of them said that they would pay a fantastic amount of money to my parents if they would sell me, but they died before that could happen. Fortunatly; they had a lot of money for me."

Rilina just goes back to the story, shaking her head again. "Well, about a week before this happened we had tied all three of them up in the slave forum and tickled them...because they had done the same to one of our friends the week before, for an hour. But part of the plan had been to wear masks, and this girl Ami had promised me that she would bring me one."

Rilina wiggles her toes a little bit, and whimpers slightly. "Well, she didn't. And she made sure the three girls saw me...she wanted to be with them so she could gain money, power...last I heard she finally was made a partner in the merchant's group, after being a tickle slave to all of them for a while. Well, about a week later the three of them decided to punish the one girl who they could recognize."

"But the problem for me was they decided to punish me for one day for every boy and girl who had tickled them. And there had been twenty four of us, so they decided to round it out to a full month." Rilina gives a heavy shudder. "They decided to divide it up; three days almost straight on just my armpits, three on my ribs and tummy, three on my pussy without letting me cum, three on my feet...and then eighteen days doing whatever they wanted."

"I remember one of the girls had such long nails...she would slide them in between my toes and scribble up and down my soles; she would scribble them all over my armpits, and taunt me by holding them in front of my eye and making me beg for them while the other two tickled me."

"And one of the other ones was so good with a feather duster that she could just pull the laughs out of me, especially when she moved it down there..."

Rilina shakes her head again. "The last time they came in to the store all three of them were interested in splitting the cost of buying me if I ever was a slave, so they could all own and torture me. And they'd pay a lot, too."

 

[Kalamos]

Tananadra's original Action follows:

"What a lovely story, Rilina. I can just see those three young ladies driving you mad from the tickle. And you are SO ticklish too, aren't you?"... Tandy was very pleased indeed as Rilina was simply dropping more and more gold in her lap.

The carriage passed through an iron gate and into an enclosed garden. A large house lay at the center.


Action resumed on - Day 04 - Tanandra's Mansion.

-> http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=16139

 

[Kalamos]

Day/Location still open for Phoros.

 

[Kalamos]

Bisanthium - Outer Wall Curtain.

The Kathic traders mutters among themselves, glancing at Phoros suspiciously.
They are clearly not buying it, but the Vigiles are drawing closer, weapons in hand.

The the last thing the traders want is to be thrown out of Bisanthium, or even worse, being thrown in, with a charge for assault, or something like that.

When a grizzled Vigil starts prodding them, the Kathes resume their arguing, accusing their hot blooded colleague of making a scene, with that cursed knife of his.

Hadn't he flashed his blade so soon, guardsmen might have supported the Kathes; since Phoros literally buried the hatched first, the Vigiles took his side and are now leading the protesting Kathes out.


"Well done."
A cloaked man approaches Phoros from behind.

Phoros turns around, startled. Few people can sneak upon him like that.
"Who...!?"

"We could use a man like you, Serpent."
The hooded man places a roundish object in Phoros's hands.

The young warrior lowers his gaze for a brief moment; before he can reply, the cloaked man is gone, nowhere to be seen in the shifting crowd.

Sighing to himself, Phoros raises the wooden token, and gives it a second peek.
"Dragon's Way."

 

[Duke Diablo]

Phoros smiled sarcastically to the scene of Kaths being dragged away by the Vigiles. He could just feel the irony: it was his men that started it all. But, a lucky break was a lucky break and he wasn't about to complain.

Than, that man approached him. Phoros was impressed, indeed. Clearly, the man worked for the mayor league, and his employer would surely be a powerfull ally. It was off to Dragon's Way, then.

Phoros asked his way around to the Dragon's way, telling his men to wait for him outside the gates. That way they won't cause any more damage, and no way was Phoros leading them out of the tavern again!

Carefully, he went to the adress he was instructed to go to, constantly keeping his guard up. He didn't like being watched. Only once he was stalked, and that was when he was sixteen years old. Some woman followed him when he went hunting. He hid from her, sneaked up on her, captured her and led her to his house. There, he took her clothes off, tied her to his bed, and there he tickled her until all of her sanity was lost. Phoros was merciless. His favourite technique was to run feathers across the victim's soles, and at the same time licking between her toes. Old man taught him this technique. They used it on the female agents his father sent all the time to search for him. Of course, Phoros didn't tickle only her feet. Her ribs and armpits were also the targets of Phoros nimble fingers.
Phoros didn't ask the woman why she was stalking him. He didn't ask her anything at all, actually. He just tickled and licked her soles until her sanity was a thing of the past. Then, when she completely lost her mind, Phoros defiled her a few times, then tickled her some more, and, after a few days of tormenting her, he tied her up in the woods, with a thick layer of honey on her soles, and a big "Tickle me!" painted on her belly. She was a pretty thing, Phoros remembered. Only two years older than him. And she was so ticklish Phoros sometimes thought she would die during the tortures. She didn't, although she begged him multiple times to kill her, instead of licking her toes.

That was his favourite part.

Phoros remembered those three weeks with an evil grin on his face. Man, those were days...