A gay adult story: A Pretty Elf in Qeynos Part Eighteen Section C by Steweird
Lots of homosexual stuff in this chapter. Normal people should skip several disgusting paragraphs
Falco and Arabella were back outside Thorsona’s townhouse for the second night in a row. They lurked in the same niche while they watched Thorsona lock her door and head off down to Fish’s muttering “he better be there.” Arabella felt sorry for Bauer if he was to let her down a second evening in a row.
“Okay” Arabella told Falco as Thorsona disappeared around the corner “just run in and get that bo staff…and all your stuff, of course.” She almost pushed Falco toward the door. “Just be quick. If anyone comes along stay chilled. I’ll use ‘Call of the Hero’ to teleport you back to me.”
Arabella had hung a magic medallion around Falco’s neck in order for the ‘Call of Hero’ spell to identify and call the correct ‘Hero’. Falco slightly resented Arabella explaining everything two or three times. It was as if she kept wanting to remind him all about how she had learned to cast ‘Call of the Hero’ like it was a big deal. Was he supposed to be impressed just because she knew one lousy magic spell?
The lock was easy to pick. Whats’er Name would be proud of how well she had taught him. The door swung inward and Falco entered, closing the door softly behind him. He locked it just in case.
Thorsona’s apartment was modest. A four poster bed was in the middle of the room and little else; a stove, a small night table and a huge wardrobe. There was a door on the far wall.
Falco saw no sign of his stuff nor the bo staff that Arabella was so anxious to get back. He had wanted to get in and be out in a minute but he spent some time looking for his things. Not finding anything under the bed nor in the wardrobe Falco opened the other door and found a large walk-in closet. He entered. His stuff must be in there.
The closet was jammed-packed full of junk, clothes and armour. If his stuff was in there, it must be buried under all the other junk.
As he started rooting through it all he found various whips, chains, buckled straps and handcuffs. Thorsona sure treated her prisoners harshly, he erroneously concluded. Over toward the far wall, he found a dildo which he wisely declined to touch.
Outside, Arabella was getting impatient. “Just grab our stuff and get out of there, you dizzy Feir’Dal” she muttered under her breath. She was thinking of casting ‘Call of the Hero’ and when he materialized in front of her she would yell at him for farting around for so long. She instead forced herself to be patient; Falco had lots of time. Maybe he was looking for some coins they could split. She could use some extra coins.
That was when a small patrol appeared out of the corner of her eye, to her left. They were walking slowly as if looking for someone. There were eight of them. She recognized that bitch Penley leading them.
She had not been vigilant enough. Had she spotted the patrol sooner instead of glaring angrily at Thorsona’s closed door she would have cast ‘Call of the Hero’. She and Falco could have huddled in the dark niche until the patrol went by. If they were seen she could pretend Falco was her casual encounter; paying a Lady of the Evening for a quickie.
It was too late to ‘Call’ Falco so she waited, hoping those Humans would not see her in the dark night. She dearly hoped Falco would not choose this moment to exit the townhouse, re-stolen booty in hand.
Everything would be fine, she told herself, just stay quiet. Then she saw that one of Penley’s subordinates was a High Elf. Arabella never hated High Elves more than right then with their night vision and their arrogance. He peered at every corner and recess as the patrol walked slowly along in what Arabella now realized was a methodical sweep intended to find someone. The High Elf’s eyes met Arabella’s. “There’s someone over there in the darkness” he told Penley, pointing right at Arabella. “A Teir’Dal.”
Arabella was caught. “Typical Dark Elf…” Penley’s voice boomed loudly through the neighbourhood as she stormed directly over. “…lurking in shadows like they always do.” Penley got right into Arabella’s face. “Up to no good tonight, Inky?”
Arabella said nothing. Penley towered over her, glaring down in an obviously bad mood. Her patrol had just dropped Williams off in jail. She had spent a maddening half hour arguing vehemently with the jailors that the murderer needed to be placed in solitary confinement. Finally prevailing, she was annoyed to now need to be investigating last night’s reports of a suspicious character lingering in the shadows of a decent law-abiding neighbourhood. She was not pleased to find another prisoner to arrest and drag in to the stubborn jailers. She vented her frustration on Arabella. “Perhaps we can start by seeing your Citizen papers, you ugly little cutpurse” she sneered.
“I am not a cutpurse” Arabella answered, deliberately curt. She hoped that in the resulting argument over who was a cutpurse and who wasn’t everyone would forget to ask a second time for her non-existent citizenship papers. “I’m just a freelance Lady, waiting for my next customer. I charge seven silver if your guards need a brief diversion. Heck, I can give a group discount of six silver each, now that I think of it.”
Penley obviously did not believe Arabella was there selling her body but pointed out to her, regardless, “it’s only five silver at Fiona’s and you can get an actual Human there instead of a scrawny little indigo whore. Now come clean, what’s a citizenless criminal like you doing hiding in dark corners? One of our good Citizens reported someone was prowling around here last night trying to lure men into the shadows so they can rob them. Was that you?”
“No. No, it wasn’t me.” Arabella protested indignantly. She mentally kicked herself. She should have known that Human passerby last night would report them.
Penley reached out and pulled Arabella’s dagger from it’s sheath. She examined the blade. “This looks suspiciously sharp, Blueberry. What’s even more suspicious is that you are wearing a nice set of leather armour. Law abiding citizens often wear armour, I concede, just not black, leather armour…so that you are neither seen nor heard as you skulk around in dark corners.”
“A working girl needs to protect herself” Arabella answered saucily then realized she needed to stop arguing. She needed to get Penley’s patrol to move on before Falco came out the door with his loot and got them both arrested for burglary.
“If you have any evidence against me” Arabella protested “I request we head to the jail so I can book an early trial time in the morning and clear my good reputation. Either that or please go on with your noble duties of protecting our good city from ne’er-do-wells. Standing here you are scaring my customers away.”
Penley did not like her tone. “You hear that boys? The little slag, here, is worried about you chasing away her customers. I guess she doesn’t consider you worthy enough to be her customers.” She looked at Arabella and smirked. “I think you need to apologize to my guardsmen.”