Karla and Lucia are tasked with finding an irreplaceable treasure.
guest story by Jemma
tags: heroic azuras, karla & lucia, nsfw
They met the lady in the private rooms of the most expensive dockside tavern.
Normally reserved for nobles breaking up long journeys, Lucia was surprised that the woman had no such accoutrements; no sea-chests, or fine goods, or even staff. Her luggage appeared to consist of a sturdy leather knapsack, and her dress was similar sturdy blue cotton, although it did reach down to the floor. Still, Lucia reckoned on nobility, at least until the point where the lady had asked to be referred to as “your grace”, which gave it away a bit.
“And you say, I mean, your grace says, that you’re searching for treasure?” said Karla.
“Quite,” said the lady, “a valuable treasure of mine is gone. I will need some assistance in ensuring it’s return.”
She had a slightly imperious manner, and was attractive, if a little mature.
Lucia didn’t see the point of going over stuff that was in the hiring note already, but Karla liked the formula.
“But you intend to come with us, right?” said Lucia, “We don’t just have to find your treasure, we have to babysit you as well?”
“Not babysit,” sad the lady, primly, “I can take care of myself against normal hazards, thank you very much, it is only monsters and the like where I could do with your assistance.”
“No trouble,” said Karla. “We’re good at monsters.”
“And you have a way to track this treasure?” said Lucia.
“Indeed,” said the lady, though she had no further comment.
Lucia looked at Karla; she could tell Karla was happy to help, and was thinking of the good she could do with the money. Fool. Loveable, huggable fool. Lucia swallowed her misgivings.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
Lucia had to admit that the lady was, at least, a decent adventurer, having kept up with Karla and herself on a long trek westwards. The lady had provided the direction herself, though keeping the mechanism secret.
As night fell, they shared a meal of rabbits and roots they had hunted for on the journey. The lady observed that it was time for bed, and took a small blue silken package from her knapsack. Quickly unfolding it into a single sized tent, she crawled inside.
“I daresay you’ll arrange watches and the like between yourselves,” the lady said, closing the flap.
“Yes, your grace,” said Karla. “Goodnight.”
Lucia and Karla did not have a tent; it was too warm, for a start, and there was the business of watches to be thought of. Instead, they laid out groundsheets next to each other, took off their most encumbering gear, and settled down to sleep. They clasped hands, and touched shoulders, and remained lying chastely. For about thirty seconds.
Lucia wiggled her hip into Karla’s, and gave her a devious look.
“No,” hissed Karla. “There’s a your grace in that tent, I’m not going to wake her up.”
“She didn’t say we couldn’t,” said Lucia, “Maybe she’d like it? Two hotties, having passionate, wild sex.”
Karla looked like she was considering whether that made it better or worse.
“Well,” said Lucia, “If you’re not interested I attend to myself.” She pushed a hand downwards. “Although you know I’m very noisy like that. But needs must.”
As the first “Aa-” was about to cross her lips, Karla blocked her mouth with her hand, swinging on top of her, and knocking her hand aside in order to take over.
Sometimes Lucia felt bad about manipulating Karla, but there wasn’t any sign that Karla minded. Anyway, Lucia now had two hands to focus on Karla.
In near silence, the two of them got faster, mirroring each other, approaching their climax, when Lucia opened her eyes and saw a bone club descending towards Karla’s back.
She, well, squeaked and rolled the two of them off to the side. The club impaled the ground, confusing the twelve-foot skeleton wielding it.
They hopped apart—thankfully they hadn’t been using the double-headed dildo, or this would have been trickier—and Karla ran for her greatsword.
The skeleton turned, almost silent on the dirt floor, and raised the club again. Karla darted in, and slashed at its ribs. There was no heart there, of course, but Lucia didn’t blame her for trying.
The skeleton hacked at Karla again, but she was too fast, and—with a leap—she pushed the greatsword into its skull.
The skeleton fell, turning to smoke and ash before it has even hit they ground.
Fucking magic-users, thought Lucia, despite, well, being one. Karla slumped to catch her breath.
“Do you think you could keep the sex noises down?” called the lady from the tent. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
The next day’s journey was pleasant; the woodland path lead them down to run alongside a wide river. The forest was open, letting in dappled sunlight to fall across drifts of wildflowers. Yeah, Lucia didn’t like it either. It made her horns itch.
They had, of course, explained about last night’s skeleton attack. The lady received it like the weather report, and simply nodded at the conclusion.
They continued down the riverside path, making good time, and (in Karla’s case at least) enjoying the charming surroundings.
So Lucia was barely surprised when the river erupted into a dragon, or something that looked like dragon, at least, but was made of mucky water.
It swept at the three of them with a massive shimmering claw, she and Karla dove out the way. The lady was knocked aside, into to river. Shame, thought Lucia, that sort of thing always looked bad on reports. Even as she thought this, Lucia rolled from her dive, and snuck away into the forest.
She hoped Karla could survive alone for a while. Sure, she’d be alright. Sure. She made her way stealthily but speedily through the woods, a roundabout route toward the best observation point.
She was right, of course. She emerged behind some half-orc magic-user, focused on the battle before him. Lucia took a quick look: Karla was diving out the way of the dragon’s teeth. It looked the lady had also survived: half in, half out of the river, supported on a huge mass of tentacles. Lucia almost gasped, but remembered she was supposed to be in stealth mode. Drawing her dagger, she pressed it firmly into the skin above his kidneys.
“Drop the spell, now,” she said.
The dragon was already fading, turning back into water.
“It’s not a spell, it’s an enchantment,” said the half-orc, grumpily. “I am a Summ-”
“Don’t care,” said Lucia, these provincial magic-users always wanted you to know they were different, like a prestige class. “Walk.”
As they walked—a more direct route—towards the others, Lucia saw Karla wringing the dragon-water out of her clothes. The lady moved to the edge of the river, and the mass of tentacles condensed to fit under her skirt. She brushed herself off.
“I wasn’t supposed to get her,” said the half-orc, “I suppose it’s a good thing she’s alright. Um, that you’re all alright, of course.”
“Could you wait until we torture you before you start telling us everything? Thanks,” said Lucia. She was joking, of course, Karla wouldn’t let them torture people. The things you give up for love.
Anyway, it was pretty much impossible to get the half-orc to shut up. In short order he told them:
- He was hired by a cloaked figure (oh great, thought Lucia, not many of them).
- He was instructed to only attack “the stupid bodyguards” (rude) and not the lady.
- He was paid with a jewel encrusted bangle. (“Part of the treasure?” asked Lucia. “No. But stolen from me, certainly,” the lady replied.)
- He was in a long standing and complex dispute with the mages guild, which they listened to for ten minutes before Lucia realised it had no bearing the matter at hand.
- Oh, and incidentally, he was pretty sure the cloaked figure had a tail and fuzzy ears, if that was any help?
They let the half-orc go before he could start telling them about the mages guild again. Yes, thought Lucia, letting him go was stupid, but the lady said she “left such matters to you” and Lucia wasn’t going to argue with Karla about slitting his throat. So he got a nice lecture from Karla and sent on his way.
“And what about those tentacles?” demanded Lucia.
“The contents of a lady’s skirt are her own concern,” said the lady.
“Your grace has got a point,” said Karla, but Lucia just waited.
“Oh fine, I’m a Scylla,” said the lady. “I trust we won’t have any racism about the matter.”
“No,” said Lucia, defensively, “I just like to know who I’m adventuring with.”
“And now we know,” said Karla, with desperate cheer. “I reckon we can get a few hours more walking in before evening.”
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
That evening they settled into a small clearing not far from the trail. Once again, the lady took out her tent and retired to it, though this time they did catch a hint of tentacles before it closed.
“I guess we ought to set up watches,” said Karla.
“Yes,” agreed Lucia, thinking —but not saying—because you let that half-orc live.
“First or second?”
“Second,” said Lucia.
Karla set herself on a fallen tree stump, sword by her side.
Lucia laid down to sleep. Chastely. For about twenty seconds. Then she crawled over to Karla.
“Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed,” suggested Lucia from groin height. “And take your trousers off.”
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
The next day, they found the trail becoming wider, the woods becoming increasingly sparse. From the top of a low rise they saw a small orcish village ahead of them on the path.
Lucia had more misgivings.
The village was small but relatively prosperous, filled with the fine carved houses that orcish tradition demanded. Normally, Lucia would have expected to see orcs practicing their trade, and orcish children at play.
As they walked into the village, however, there was no sign of anything so routine. Instead orcish figures stood in doorways, carrying spears, or axes, or just farming implements. There was an air of absolute hostility.
“Morning!” said Karla, waving. Annoyingly cute, thought Lucia.
They made their way towards the centre of the village, where the chief’s longhouse stood. Here there was an array of orcish warriors, and at the front the orc chief, and her wives. The chief was unafraid, staring them down. She wore no armour, no clothes either, save the ritual markings and a loincloth that was not quite sufficient to hide her generous cock.
“Morning!” said Karla, undaunted by the chief being a couple of heads taller than her.
It did seem to stun the chief for a moment, but then she started to speak. “Outlanders, if you wish to live, depart this place immediately,” she intoned. “Be it known that this tribe has entered a contract to defend the person in this longhouse. If you fight, you fight all of us.”
Brilliant, thought Lucia. “Does this person happen to have a tail and fuzzy ears?” she said.
“The catgirl, yes,” replied the chief.
“The thief?” asked Lucia, as an aside to the lady.
“The one responsible, yes,” said the lady. “We must get in there.”
This caused some consternation in the orcs, as the lady did not deign to whisper.
“Er,” said Lucia.
“What did she pay you?” said the lady. “Nevermind, I will double it if you stand down.”
The chief looked a little pained. “We have entered a contract. Our orcish honour demands it is upheld.”
The orcs brandished their weapons. Karla shifted herself, to make her greatsword easier to draw.
“Except you were paid in stolen goods,” said Lucia.
“We don’t concern ourselves with such things,” said one of the warrior orcs.
“No,” said one of the chief’s wives, “But we could. I mean, we wouldn’t get paid in our own gold, for example. If there’s some doubt about the source…”
The chief looked considerate. “We shall have a look at the goods you bring. If it seems likely they are from the same hoard, we will consider the contract invalid. Indeed, we will consider it part payment on our new contract.”
The lady reached into her knapsack and brought out piles of jewels, bangles, necklaces. The orcs spent very little time examining, before the chief gave them the nod.
They made their way towards the longhouse.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
Inside it was little dark, but as their eyes grew accustomed to dimness they saw a pretty catgirl sitting on the high table.
“I really thought it would take you longer,” she said.
“I was very fortunate in my choice of henchpeople,” said the lady.
“My lady…” said the catgirl.
“Treasure…” said the lady.
And then they were running toward other, and hugging and kissing.
“WTF,” said Lucia, at the same time as Karla went “Aww”.
“I suppose I should explain,” said the lady, after a while, still holding hands with the catgirl. “This is my Treasure, the most precious thing I possess, the paragon of jewels. But every so often she feels—incorrectly—that I have been negligent or taken my Treasure for granted.”
“So I take some stuff and see how long I can escape for,” said Treasure, “But my lady is kind enough to always find me. And then I get some lovely punishment.”
“Well, although my precious Treasure is always treated nicely, it is important there is some discipline, after all,” said the lady, “I mean, that’s a considerable amount of gold she stole, I’ll have to devise some way she can work it off.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Treasure, sounding not disappointed.
“And what are these?” said the lady, fingering the catgirl’s rough spun clothes.
“Clothes?” said Treasure.
“Well, you can wear them on the way back, so that our henchpeople do not get embarrassed,” said the lady, “But after we get back home it will be months before you wear the slightest slip of fabric.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Treasure.
“Ahem,” said Lucia, “I’m sure we all congratulate you on your weird sex thing, but we could have been murdered by the opponents you set up!”
“But you weren’t,” the lady said. “You dealt with them admirably.”
“She’s got a point,” said Karla.
“Only because we’re extremely competent,” said Lucia. “If she had picked some new adventurers, they’d be dead.”
“Quite,” said the lady, “So I should definitely pick you next time this happens.”
“And it is kind of cute, Lucia,” said Karla, “And we are making a lot of money.”
“Fine,” said Lucia. It was, she supposed, strange that she was objecting to sex. “Fine.”
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
They bought roast fowl and vegetables from the orc village before leaving. (The orcs were more than a little surprised to see the four of them leave amicably together, but were too busy dividing the loot to worry too much).
After a day’s walk they had a nice meal under the stars, Treasure sitting at her lady’s feet (if she’d had them), and being hand fed the most tasty pieces.
Then the blue tent was produced again.
“Don’t worry about any sex noises,” the lady said, “Treasure’s mouth is going to be way too full to manage any mewling.”
Treasure gave a rather self-satisfied smile.
They disappeared into the tent, and — despite the lady’s promise — sounds of tentacles wetly slapping and muffled cries began issuing forth.
Karla and Lucia lay on their groundsheets, chastely. For about ten seconds. Then they embraced each other, rolling around for a few minutes until Lucia ended up on top.
“It is cute, isn’t it?” asked Karla, nodded to the tent.
“Oh, I suppose,” said Lucia.
“Do you ever think of doing something that?”
“You chasing me?” said Lucia, “Or me chasing you?”
“Either, I suppose,” said Karla.
Lucia rolled again, bringing Karla on to the top
“Nah,” Lucia said, kissing Karla. “Being further away from you than, say, a double-headed dildo is a waste of time, my love.”
“Oh hey,” said Karla, “That gives me an idea.”
Lucia smiled, as Karla went through her bag.
Editor’s Note: I have absolutely adored all of Jemma’s Machine Mandate fan fiction. She nails humor in a way that has always eluded me, without sacrificing strong characterization or compelling stories. I am elated and honored that she wrote a story featuring my characters.