The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Zevran]

"I was thinking a Cure Poison potion or the like, but that also," Zevran replies with a faint smile. "Truth be told, I'm thinking we hit a modestly sized one and clean them out; healing, anti-poison, sedatives, nutrient potions, even combat aides if they have any." He shrugs. "Why the fuck not, no?"

[Isabela]

Isabela grins at him. "Why the fuck not indeed?"

[GamesMaster]

They can hear the whimpering and wordless pleading as they break into the shed, the sun now well above the horizon. When they enter, they find the two captives: Iron Bull, pinned in a stall with a pair of thick iron hobbles and a ring around his waist that serve to hold him still in a narrow chute, ready to be "hand bred" or impregnated by a horse or bull; and Shisou, chained up with a pair of manacles that have been tied to the rafters so he's barely able to touch the ground. Both are held with farm equipment more than capable of containing their weight, as they were designed for cattle; both are naked; both look miserable, though Shisou is the one making all the noise. He grunts as he thrusts into midair, his penis hard as a rock and chafed to the point of having little scabs on it as well as being covered in fluids. 

Isabela steps toward Shisou, horrified. "This isn't a heat," she whispers. "Teiris above. This is Angelust. And not to give him even his hands to..."

She puts Coquette down gently on a bale of hay, moving towards the captive, her tone gentle. "Hey. Can I touch you?" At his frantic nods, she moves to gently stroke his cock with two fingers. It's enough sensation, after being chained up for hours; he closes his eyes, spurting cum all over her arm as he franticly humps her hand. 

[Zevran]

Leaving Isabela to help Shisou-- how does she know what Anglust looks like? What kind of life did she have to live after we parted?-- Zevran moves towards Bull. The imisy minotaur's body is tense, quivering, and his fur is matted with dried blood. Far, far too much blood for all of it to be from him, even given his size. Not that there's a lack of wounds for blood to have come from; whip marks litter his back, legs and arms, slices on his legs, a couple of full stab wounds in his back and-- 

"Bastion preserve," Zevran swears, horrified, as he sees the twisted, blackened stump that Bull's right arm has become. The entire thing is there, technically, but his hand is just a crooked hook of char-encrusted bone and everything up to his elbow is heavily seared. Moving once more, Zevran has to swallow hard, twice, before he can warn Bull of his approach. The imisy minotaur can clearly tell someone is around, despite the heavy leather hood that completely covers his face, but Zevran doubts he's capable of identifying him like he is. "Bull- The Iron Bull. It's Zevran. I've escaped; we're escaping. I'm going to remove the hood-- please don't bite off my fingers."

Deciding to take the wet grunt as agreement, Zevran gently uses his knife to cut the hood away, not wanting to take the time and effort to remove it normally. "Isabela-- that's an old friend, she's helping us-- Isabela, how is Shisou?"

[Isabela]

"Bad. This drug, it induces a mindless state of... he's become all sexual urges and nothing more. Here, luv, drink," she urges, pushing a vial to his lips. "If we're in time, if he hasn't been given it too long ago, it will only take the edge off his sparkle, but if he's been here a while, he'll be in bad shape. Might not be movable. I don't think he's been hurt physically, at least not much, but he's been tortured, and this is the kind of drug that does permanent damage."

[Zevran]

"Less than twelve, more than six hours," Zevran supplies, wincing. "I'm familiar with Anglust. It is... unpleasant," he says, voice cracking a little. He finishes cutting the hood and carefully eases it off of Bull. The berserker whips his head back the second the hood is parted around his neck, ripping it from Zevran's hands and flinging it aside. As Zevran had predicted, feared, from the shape of the hood, both of his horns have been shattered near the base. Splintered numbs of bone, caked with gore, mark the locations where they once were, but even that isn't enough to pull Zevran's attention away from--

"She's gouged out his eyes," Zevran says numbly. "No. Cut his eyes until they oozed--" He steps back, fighting back the need to vomit. Bull, mouth sewn shut, grunts and groans, trying to demand answers he can't really hear anyway. 

[Isabela]

Isabela strokes Shisou's cock comfortingly, gently placing a hand on his hip to stop him bucking. "I think he's pulled a muscle," she says quietly, hoping to redirect Zevran's attention. "He won't be able to hold still until the curative really takes hold but-- there, there now, shh, I've got you. I've got you. It's over, kid. You're safe now."

Slowly, as his throbbing, aching cock finally begins to go down, Isabela stands, moving to pick the manacles now that he's stopped wiggling so much. In a minute she has Shisou down, laying him against the hay bale where Coquette is. 

Now, let's see what I can do to get this Bull fellow ready for travel, she thinks grimly, steeling herself against the sight of him as she turns. What a monster I've befriended. 

[The Iron Bull]

Thankfully, she doesn't have to do it alone. After a few moments, Zevran gathers his self-control enough to assist with getting him out of the contraption he's locked in. Amazingly, appallingly, the imisy minotaur keeps on his feet, even if he does have to lean rather heavily on the support beam nearby. He kneels after Zevran tugs at his good arm gently, allowing Isabela to cut the threads closing his mouth before she moves onto digging out the wax in his ears with a sharp needle. Meanwhile, Zevran does his best to wash and bind the many, many wounds on his skin. "She healed you repeatedly, didn't she?"

Bull grunts softly, focused more on his breathing than anything else. "Ring. Healed. Faster."

"Sadistic bitch." Bull grunts again, almost amused and certainly agreeing. "Here, some healing potions."

He grimaces at the idea of having to swallow, but feels the better for doing so. "Ribs feel whole. Legs solid." He flexes his whole hand, the muscles creaking with the stain. "Got a weapon for me?" he asks eagerly.

"...you're blind. And half deaf," Zevran says slowly, picturing the amount of collateral damage a blind Bull with his greataxe would end up doing.

"So?"

[Isabela]

Isabela understands. She presses a dagger into his hand, closing his fingers around it before she goes to finish digging the wax from his ear. (Helpless, held down, fighting, too tired to fight anymore and it won't stop, it keeps going, still held down, still helpless). 

As they load first Coquette, then Shisou into the carriage, the sound of hoofbeats can be heard, pounding toward them. Before they can get Bull into the carriage, the riders are nearly upon them: twelve mounted guards, armed, with a wagon a little behind them with bars on the sides. A slave wagon. This must be the pickup: a detachment from a caravan, probably, their guards and one of their wagons. 

[Zevran]

"Cockrot," Zevran curses sharply. Knowing that they'll spot the dead bodies immediately, Zevran doesn't hesitate. He steps out from around the carriage and flings one of the half dozen daggers he'd hooked to one of the dead guard's bandoliers. As much due to luck as skill, the dagger hits with a wet thud in the throat of one of the outriders. The rest react swiftly, and with far more discipline than the group of ex-slaves would like to see. Zevran throws two more daggers but gets only a shallow cut before being chased back behind the carriage by a flurry of arrows.

Eyes flicking about, Zevran swallows and glances at Isabela. "Once they circle around..." He trails off, knowing she can figure this out as easily as he. The opening to the barn where the carriage was parked limits their approach, but there's another, albeit smaller, entrance on the other side of the barn. The both of them might be able to keep one entrance from being breeched. Probably. But just one of them? Not a chance. Delay, sure, but not for long.

[Isabela]

"We have to run for it," says Isabela, but her voice is grim. She knows the odds as well as Zevran does, maybe even better. 

[Zevran]

"...can you drive a carriage?" Zevran asks abruptly. "Like... well?  I have never even touched a set of reins before"

[Isabela]

"I'm not a professional but I'm no slouch," she says with a grimace. "I take it I'm driving?"

[The Iron Bull]

"I'd have better luck fucking the horse to get it to pull the wagon where I wanted than trying to do it properly," Zevran confirms, eyes going blank and dull as he forces himself to accept that freedom is once more just a fleeting dream. "Take care of them for me. Please. Get them to safety and any debt--"

There's a sharp scraping noise from a little behind them, then a roar of flame. Bull lets out a high-pitched scream that broadens rapidly into a bellow as he thunders past the carriage. He's got the dagger in one hand, looking like a table knife in his massive fist, a heavy chain wrapped around the stump of his left and a kerosene soaked blanket draped over his back. 

Evidently the slavers were expecting this as much as Isabela or Zevran were, as they just stare in terrified disbelief as the gore-covered, half-horned, burning berserker swinging shrieking chains rushes them. He manages to close with one of the still mounted riders, shoulder checking it hard enough to break the rider's leg and the horses ribs, before the scene breaks. And it's the other horses that get their shit together first, their instincts coming to a decision faster than the mortals' reasoning. 

"_GO!"

[Isabela]

Isabela grabs Zevran's wrist, hissing, "If you think I'm going to leave you behind after all this!" as she starts running, half-dragging him to the wagon until his mind kicks into gear and he runs alongside her. They leap into the carriage, Isabela swinging up onto the driver's seat and kicking the horses into high gear with the reins. "Yah! Run for it!" she shouts, spooking them into a gallop as the carriage hurtles toward the town, her airship, and freedom.

End of Part 1