I would like to take a quick moment to thank my friend for editing this for me. Thank you.


Marcus was irked, as much as he hated to admit it. He had not thought he would have had an issue getting out of the city. After all, it wasn’t as if this city was a big deal or anything. In fact, Eveningbrook was a tiny town on the edge of the Northern Kingdom. Nothing but farm land and merchants and packed with shady bars and cut-throats to fill them. The guards never seemed to give a crap about what happened around here. So why, damn it, was the gate suddenly covered in uniformed soldiers?!

The blond bard was damned sure this was not his doing. There was no way in hell that any blacksmith was capable of calling this many armed men to attention. Not unless it involved someone’s daughter being raped, and in that case it was likely the guards that had done it to begin with. He inched closer, sticking to the side of the street, casually walking to the next bar. That is what he hoped it looked like he was doing, at least. As he stepped closer, the bard cursed. He recognized the colors that the soldiers wore, and it never meant good. Though he had never met one in person, the High Order were a bunch of religious zealots who spent their days rambling about ‘true Gods’ and things most people had never heard of.

Nothing good could come of them in a town like this – none whatsoever. They were chaste; simply preachers, at least that was what they said. Rumors were they simply cut down “sinners” without a second glance. Eveningbrook was full of sinners. With all the brothels, taverns, and shady merchants, the bard knew he had to find another way out of the city, and damned fast. He did not intend to be around when the first arrow went flying, or in this case, some crazy paladin’s sword.

Reaching up, he ran his hand over the strings of his lute, not preparing to strum the strings or anything; he was simply making sure they were as they should be. Perhaps it was a comfort to the bard to know his most prized possession was safe, or perhaps he intended to use it to get out of town. Ah, now there was an idea! The bard grasped the neck of the instrument and lifted it, commencing to strumming a few strings. While most did not know about these High Order folks, Marcus being one of those ‘ignorant’ to they’re beliefs. He did, however, know how to make himself look like a potential convert. He casually made his way to the group and bowed low before what he could only assume was the leader standing upon horse back, at the forefront of the group. “Oh grand commander, won’t you spare a moment for a ignorant bard, simply wishing to be educated in your ways?”

The figure on the horse turned its white-plated head down to stare through the visor at the man below. A head tilted to the side before they raised a left hand and motioned at the prone blond. Marcus’s heart skipped a beat. Oh by the Gods, he wanted his head on his shoulders. He was sure these folks would be more likely to kill him with a sharper blade then the angry blacksmith, though. After all, the blacksmith was most likely just gunning for his man-bits. Another white armor clad figure, wearing a red tabard with a black cross dead in its center stepped up and kneeled down. A hand reached out and closed around the bard’s chin and turned his face from side to side. “Clearly, a sinner, though young enough to be converted.” The voice was male, though it was hard to tell. In that armor, they all appeared to be, well, genderless.

The figure on the horse nodded and lifted a hand again, causing the guard to let go of Marcus. “Come along then, initiate, we will begin your teaching.” The bard almost cursed; he’d not expected to be accepted to this degree. Ah well, he could try and slip out when they made camp or something. It was still early in the night and there was no way these people were just going to stay up all night right?

For once, Marcus was right, though not about the issue of making camp. He was right about these people causing trouble. Not long after he had been accepted by the odd asexual armored guard, the group moved on. Away from the gate, the guard explained to Marcus that the city was far too full of sin to be converted or purged with such a small amount of Order members. Marcus simply nodded, doing his best to seem the willing pupil, and not what more or less added up to being a exceptionally creeped-out stowaway. It was not that he really had a choice; posing this way at least got him out of the gates, away from angry blacksmiths and crazy zealots. Well..sort of..

“So what do you intend to do?” The guard sighed softly and reached up and removed his helm. He was young, likely even younger then Marcus was, and he was in his mid-twenties! He had long red hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck, and bright green eyes, though his expression was stern and forced. It seemed clear to the bard that this knight had not been in his job for long. “The commander will likely set the priests to pray for a week for their sins.” “And then?” “Well in time, we will come back and purge them.” “What do you mean by purge?” The normally excitable bard knew what this meant, but an innocent convert would be unsure. “Well..” The man said, looking a bit pleased even as he explained it. “We would come back and kill them, of course.” Marcus thought he saw, for a split second, regret in the man’s face, though it quickly passed. Was he so lost to this brain washing?

That was when the trouble hit. Marcus heard the screaming. He and his newfound ‘friend’ turned in the direction of the yelling. It was a woman from the town. Marcus had seen her before. She was one of the ladies in one of the shadier taverns. She wasn’t cheap, but one could buy her for a night. It seemed two of the knights he’d snuck out with had found her stumbling around outside of the town. “What do we…” “Nothing…” The knight interrupted the bard. “They will purge her of her sins.” He stated, though the way they leered at the woman had the bard confused by that statement. “By purge, do you mean…” However he did not have to finish his question.

One of the guards holding the woman (who had simply been far too unlucky to try and practice the world’s oldest profession outside the gates this night) slammed her into a nearby tree. She attempted to scream but the jolt of hitting the tree caused her breath to be knocked out of her rather violently. As she gasped for air, the back of her head was grabbed and she was forced to her knees. The Commandor who Marcus had spoken to on the horse now held her by her long blond locks; the woman looked up at him, tears already pouring down her face. Marcus knew it wasn’t from what they were doing. He knew in her job she’d likely had someone forced on her a few times. No, it was because she knew what would happen after.

The Commander reached up and unhooked his belt with one hand before unstrapping his leggings and letting it all fall with a clang. The bard should have stepped in, but he was a selfish man, and felt his own life was far more valuable than one lady of the night. However, he could not look away from her suffering as the commander grabbed the girl’s head in both hands and pressed the head of his cock to her mouth. “Take it.” He demanded. She kept her mouth clamped shut, doing her best to fight back. “I said take it!” He said, his voice rising slightly. Another knight stepped up behind the girl and yanked at her hair. As she cried out in pain, the commander took that moment to jam his cock into the rebelling prostitute’s moist mouth. Her eyes closed tightly, and even from a distance the bard could hear the gaging noises as he watched the girl’s head being forced up and down the man’s dick.

Heavy panting could be heard from the commander as his gloved hands worked to continue to pump her head as she seemed to finally give up, resigning herself to her fate. “That’s right… that’s right… Allow your sins to be purged through my purity.” Yeah, the man was a nut-job that was for sure, but he was a nut-job with an army. Soon though, he yanked himself from the woman’s mouth and motioned to the knights closest to him. The two men reached out and pushed the woman to the ground, only to step on her wrists to prevent her from moving. There was no way she was getting away from plated boots so firmly holding her in place. The Commander kneeled down and forced her legs apart, and with only a grunt, plunged his cock into the whore. His hips began to rock quickly.

“You will die purged.” He told the now-prone and no-longer-rebelling woman. His plated hands reached out and grabbed her breasts, leaving raw scratches and bruises from the rough metal. Her eyes closed now, the abuse to her sensitive breasts making it harder for her to ignore the agony of what was happening. He picked up his speed; Marcus could hear him groaning and his breathing picking up, no stamina. The Bard thought, and knew damned well how heartless it made him to think only that in this type of situation. But the commander continued for a time, suddenly crying out as his seed plunged deep in to the woman.

“Now, she has been purged.” The commander said as he pulled out of her with a sickening squish and a turned to his men. “Let any like this woman share this fate.” He announced as the knights who had held the woman down grabbed a rope. “May we purge the whore and heretics of this land on the name of the true god!” He called and the men around him cheered, most of them. The Bard and his knight friend remained silent, soon finding themselves volunteering to set up camp as the rope was tied around the woman’s neck. They were too far away to hear her neck snap, but Marcus could have sworn it would stay with him forever.

He should have tried his luck with the blacksmith. Man-bits be damned.

September 2018
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