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The Wormwood Mutiny

Chapter Text

Barna Bashri, the jackal-headed rakshasa captain of the Wormwood, was deep in his cups at the Formidably Maid. Yesterday’s encounter with the Chelish armada, those fucking attempted colonizers, had left him down to the last two members of his crew. They were, however, his most trusted officers.

There was Master Scourge, his bronze-skinned, black-bearded boatswain and master-at-arms currently having his way with the nereid sex slave bent over the foot of the bed. He’d wrapped their head in the diaphanous shawl that held their life force like a gagging, suffocating bag. Their dark, sea-blue forearms were behind their back with the mithral and adamtine braid of his whip. Their trembling legs were kept spread by a bar shackling each ankle.

Master Scourge held their throat in one hand and dug his fingers into the soft, rounded flesh of their asscheek as he stuffed their ass with his dick. Each thrust pounded their cunt into the hard edge of the footboard. At the same time, the two tentacles that extended from the back of the boatswain’s shoulders coiled around either of their thighs and up into their dripping pussy.

It was little wonder that cumslut screamed at the cecaelia’s every tap and screw. You could take a nereid out of the sea, but you couldn’t take the sea of the pathetic whore’s pussy.

The other officer was none other than Barna’s first mate, Mister Plugg. Like the cecaelia, the drow was enjoying themself by riding a bound sex slave into the floorboards, their long, silver ponytail swinging with every wall-splitting thrust into her asshole.

The triton had her vivid blue cheek to the floor, her sobbing face covered by perpetually drenched white locks. Her arms had been bound to either side of her sleek-scaled torso, fingers clenching with each orgasm the drow pounded into her anal shaft.

Mister Plugg had taken her split tail, resembling two large, twined serpents, and tied it into a pretzel knot beneath them. Not one to leave a bitch wanting, they’d stuffed the triton’s pussy with the well-polished handle of their cat-o’-nine-tails. The mindless, ungrateful cumslut still writhed under them as though she had any hope of escape.

Barna’s black-furred head tilted in thought. If they assumed ownership of these slaves, not only would these cum toilets truly lose all hope of escape, but there’d be more bodies onboard the Wormwood. The captain held no false assumptions of their nautical ability. All ships, however, could use a few whores to batten down any mutinous inklings from the crew.

The lean, slightly-built rakshasa rose from his seat and set a weather-beaten captain’s hat upon his head. “Blow your loads, mates, ‘cuz we’re setting sail and taking these bonny bitches with us.”

Barna’s officers came on command and threw their cum-leaking whores over their shoulders. Of course they weren’t about to negotiate prices for the sex slaves. They were pirates.


The Wormwood was a three-masted sailing ship, a hundred feet long from stem to stern. The pirates chained their new booty to the central mast. Mister Plugg left triton’s arms bound to her sides but unknotted her split tail. The drow clapped an iron collar around her to keep her lashed to the mast. Her gold, angled eyes spread wide in desperate fear.

Beside the triton, Master Scourge switched his nereid’s arms into iron shackles bound to the ropes of the mast over their head. He unwrapped the shawl around their face, letting their dark, perpetually drenched sea-green hair fall free around their bowed head.

The cecaelia lifted their chin on the end of a tentacle, raising their despairing eyes as black as the oceanic depths to meet his. He grinned and stuffed the wad of their shawl into their mouth.

The pirates stepped back into line with their captain to survey their stolen treasures. Captain Barna nodded in satisfaction. “They’re definitely going to earn their keep. But they could probably use some comfort if this is their first time out here on the Fever Sea.”

The first mate and boatswain nodded. They ran off to the belowdecks with a sharp heel-turn, leaving the rakshasa with the kidnapped sex slaves.

He reached a finger into the nereid’s mouth and pulled out their gagging shawl. “What’s your name?”


He slipped a finger between the triton’s split tail and into her tight but perpetually wet pussy. “What’s yours?”

“Rishgo,” she rasped, her eyes half-wincing at the rubbing finger forcing her traitorous cunt into clenching squeeze.

The jackal snorted in amusement. He knew she couldn’t help it. Rakshasas were supernaturally enchanting beings to those without any kind of magical resistance. In the minute and a half it took his officers to go and return, he had the pathetic slut drooling and panting on his finger with her tongue out like a proper bitch.

“That’s just disgusting,” spat Mister Plugg.

“Rishgo’s just disgusting,” Barna corrected. “Use a whore’s name, would ya? Our other salty little slut here is San.”

“San.” Master Scourge tested the name in his mouth. Soft, round, and ripe. “Yeah, that’s definitely the name of a cumslut.”

Barna nodded, taking the “comfort” from his officers’ hands. They were toys from Besmara’s Throne, the mist-veiled island of the pirate goddess herself. The long, thick wooden dildoes had been carved after the tentacle-dicks of the Sea Banshee’s aquatic servitors.

The pirates stuffed their whores’ every hole, cunts, mouths, and anuses. As soon as the dildoes penetrated their victims’ shafts, their wooden lengths swelled and vibrated to life. Nereid and triton writhed on the deck and screamed onto the wooden cocks in their mouths, gagging their tortured cries.

Master Scourge laughed ruthlessly. The cecaelia twisted his nereid’s shawl into a long cord. He used it to lash the two bound, squirming slaves together at the waist so that one’s hips bucked into the other’s.

“Safe and secure,” the boatswain cackled.

“It’d better be,” Mister Plugg muttered under their breath. The drow gave their triton a swift kick in her over-stuffed crotch.

Rishgo convulsed, the full length of her scaled back whipping into an orgasmic arc. Her golden eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Her hips continued to buck and hump into San’s, the split lengths of her tails coiling tight around the nereid’s trembling legs as though possessed.

“ gonna be one Hell of a sail, isn’t it?” said the first mate, their voice low and husky in a voyeur’s heat.

“That it is,” grinned Master Scourge. The boatswain had his cock out, pumping it in both tentacles over the tangled mess of sloppy whores. He came onto their rocking bodies in seconds.

“Alright mates, back to work,” said the captain, clapping his hands on either of the taller officers’ shoulders. Even the sluttiest fish needed time to acclimatize to a new tank.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Captain Barna joined his officers on deck for breakfast. They were making the most of the placid morning, with Mister Plugg’s cock in their triton’s mouth and Master Scourge’s in his nereid’s to add a healthy dose of cum to their gruel rations. Both officers had their hands on either side of the sex slaves’ heads to help them suck the seed down.

Rishgo and San’s bodies almost entirely limp aside from the erratic spasm wracking up from their dildo-plugged crotches. They’d been left at the raping mercy of the magicked wooden tentacles for the entire night. Thus, neither could support themselves this fine morning, instead dangling heavily from their shackles.

“Mates, the fact remains that we need more hands on deck,” said the jackal. "Swabs to keep us clean and skilled hands to help with the sailing."

"'Cept we got nothing to offer but food, board, and booty right now," said the cecaelia, one tentacle slapping his nereid bitch's sea-blue ass.

Their mouth whimpered needily around his dick. It'd only taken a night on the tentacle dildoes, but the sex slaves had already been broken in. That solved one problem: they could be unshackled and swab the deck.

"I know where we could find skilled sailors," Mister Plugg said quietly. "And ones desperate enough to work months without pay."

The drow grunted and came down their triton slut's gilled throat. She greedily lapped up every drop.

"Where? Magical Fantasy Island?" laughed Master Scourge.

"No," said Mister Plugg, rolling his silver eyes. "Raptor Island."

“Oh, no,” said the cecaelia.

Captain Barna tilted his head in thought. Technically, everything the drow had said was true. They could, in fact, find skilled sailors desperate enough to work months without pay because Raptor Island was an infamous marooning grounds for enemies, traitors, and mutineers.

“Cap, we don’t want anyone we find alive there,” said the boatswain. “They’d be troublesome enough to warrant marooning AND wily enough to survive an island full of ravening packs of dinosaurs.”

“Deinonychuses,” said the first mate.

“That’s a canny, hardy lot right there,” said Barna. “Or maybe just lucky, and Goddess knows we could use the luck. How about this: worse comes to comes worse, and we break ‘em just like the ship’s whores.”

A slow grin spread across Master Scourge’s face. He nodded and shrugged, unable to argue with that.

Mister Plugg smirked back. “I’ll chart us a course.”

“To Raptor Island we go!” boomed the captain.


Rocky shoals and jagged reefs prevented the Wormwood and vessels of any significant size from approaching the shores of Raptor Island, one of the many reasons it was such a popular dumping ground. Captain Barna anchored almost a quarter-mile offshore. Master Scourge and Mister Plugg rowed out in a longboat to Dead Slave Cove.

The barren beach had been picked clean of trees that could be used to build a raft. The only green left was thorny and fleshy. But life persisted.

Five bedraggled sailors pressing their backs flat to the base of a sheer cliff stared in dread hope at the approaching longboat. There was also a pack of brightly feathered, razor-toothed deinonychuses on the hunt just around the corner of said cliff.

The boatswain and first mate stopped rowing just short of the crystal clear shallows. The cecaelia waved a tentacle at the marooned sailors. The drow cupped two hands around their mouth.


Two humans, one shark-headed adaro, one rabbit-headed ganzi, and one bulge-eyed, toad-headed boggard sprang from the wall of the cliff. They ran and hopped down the shore. The dinosaurs sprinted after them.

The sailors screamed. The adaro, largest, slowest, but strongest, grabbed the arm of the human in front of them and threw them to the sand. The deinonychuses descended on mass, tearing the shrieking sailor to bloody shreds like a pack of starving hens.

Four sailors made it to the water. The adaro flew past them, swimming with all the strength and speed of their animal brethren cutting the surface of the shallows with their dorsal fins.

The boggard, the next-fastest swimmer, followed the adaro out of the sharks’ closing circles and into the longboat. A pair of long rabbit’s ears cut the water behind the last human.

The human shrieked and flailed, clouding the water with their blood. The sharks closed in. The ganzi, her soft brown fur plastered to her lusciously curved frame, clambered aboard the longboat.

“Let’s hear those names, kids,” said Master Scourge as the officers rowed back to the Wormwood.

“Cwel,” said the mighty, hulking adaro.

“Monog,” ribbited the boggard.

“Is that your name, or is that just a sound you’re making?” Mister Plugg asked dryly.


“Welp, I can see why they put you here, Monog,” said the boatswain.


“What about you, bunny girl?”

“Noaru,” she replied stiffly. “And I’m a ganzi.”

“Cwel, Monog, Noaru, welcome to the crew of the Wormwood,” said the first mate. “In exchange for your rescue, we’ll be docking the first three months of your pay, not counting any bonuses ‘liberated’ from the Infernal Empire of Cheliax.”

“But you’re still eligible to receive food, board, and booty.”

“I thought booty’s what we were stealing from Cheliax,” said Cwel.


Even Noaru raised a furry brow at that. Though it all became clear once they set foot on the deck.

Captain Barna had shackled both the nereid and the triton’s arms over their heads to the ropes around the mast, setting their perfect breasts on display. With their magic wooden dildoes removed, their holes were tight, wet, and starved for penetration. The ship’s whores had their mouths open, tongues out in pathetic animal beggary.

The jackal grinned at the newcomers and gestured at the sex slaves on the mast. “They’re open 24/7. Enjoy.”

Noaru stayed back, one ear twitching in disgust. Cwel and Monog, however, received their second wind.

Cwel picked up the triton between her split tail and shoved her back to the mast. Thus braced, the adaro rammed their massive shark’s cock into her anus.

Rishgo, broken by the night of endless penetration, half-screamed and half-moaned as they filled and pistoned her needy asshole. The harder the towering Cwel slammed her clenched body into the mast, the harder she spasmed around their impaling dick.

Monog hopped onto the nereid’s back, bending them into a low, breast-swinging doggy position with their cuffed arms braced against the mast. The boggard grabbed their shoulders in his webbed hands and leapfrogged into the nereid’s sea-blue pussy.

San cried out in shame and in back-arching pleasure under the toad mounting them like dog. Monog’s hips hopped furiously against their asscheeks, his dick ripping their gushing walls apart with loud squelches. The nereid burned with shame even as their pussy clamped around his cock and wracked every nerve in their body with drool-inducing orgasm.

Cum exploded into San’s raped cunt and Rishgo’s raped anus. Cwel and Monog pulled out, leaving the sex slaves limp and leaking on the floor of the deck. The new crewmates grinned at their officers. They could get used to this.

The bunny was certain that she could not.

Chapter Text

Late in the afternoon, sails were spotted on the horizon. As evening wore on, the Wormwood gained on the bulkier ship, a Chelish vessel. By dawn, less than half a mile separated the two.

The Wormwood readied for battle. Captain Barna opened the armory to the new sailors. The adaro chose a spear, rubbing its head with pufferfish poison. The boggard chose a morningstar and gave the spiked ball a cursory spin. The bunny chose a simple but effectively heavy quarterstaff.

The pirates did not arm the sex slaves. They did, however, free the triton and the nereid’s arms from the cuffs. They collared and chained the whores to the mast instead to ensure neither went overboard during the coming fray.

In the last hour, they slaughtered half a dozen pigs, slitting their throats and tossing their carcasses into the water. Soon, a school of triangle fins trailed in the Wormwood’s wake.

The ships closed within a hundred feet of each other, firing range. Crossbow bolts zipped through the air. Heavy ballistas shunked from the sterncastles. Their massive bolts shattered through wood.

“And here. We. Go.” The captain pointed at his first mate.

The drow nodded and blew softly through the ring of their thumb and forefinger. Dark mist billowed out across the deck to envelop the entire ship and the surrounding, shark-infested waters.

Crash! The two ships collided. Noaru windmilled to regain her balance. The other, experienced pirates hurled their grapples and swung across with boarding roars. The bank of fog rolled onto the Chelish vessel after them, the ganzi’s boarding cloaked by its muffling darkness.

Clashes and cries drifted out of the mist. The odd gray curtain parted before Noaru around Cwel and a bitten, bleeding naval officer. The adaro ran them through with their spear and tossed them like a bale of hay over the rail. The Chelaxian screamed as the sharks ripped their colonizing ass to shreds.

Cwel’s eye caught Noaru’s. They nodded and licked the blood off their razor-toothed grin.

The bunny nodded back. She joined in the fray, knocking as many colonizers into the churning Fever Sea as she could.

A hush fell over the two, locked ships. Through the receding fog, she spotted the brave jumping the rail and the wise dropping their weapons in surrender. Master Scourge and Mister Plugg prodded them into a line over the gangplank and on their knees upon the deck of the Wormwood.

Captain Barna strode out from the last of the fog, a dripping heart in the jackal’s hand. He bit into it like an apple. Then tossed the rest to the sharks, clearing his throat to speak.

“You five have made the right choice, exchanging a life of glorified theft for a life of honest slavery. Let’s get some names.”

The five prisoners, slaves were forced to speak by the officers wrenching pain into their limbs as they lashed their arms painfully together down their backs. The two clapped iron collars around the imperial citizens’ necks and hobbled their kneeling ankles with shackled cuffs.

There was Famin, a qlippoth-spawn tiefling with beetle-like horns protruding from her tangled black hair. There was a half-aquatic-elf beside her with cerulean skin and wavy, navy blue hair. The twink’s name was Giers.

Next was an unfortunate bloke, Jakshaw. He was a tiefling with the horns, head, and furry hide of a goat. A pale, dark-haired changeling knelt beside him. Linse had one sloe-black eye and one as white as snow.

The last of the captives was not a tiefling but a cambion, an incubus-blooded humanoid who’d absorbed the planar essence of the Abyss itself. Tirak had red skin, thick black horns, and a forked tongue.

In Chelish eyes, they were half-bloods, outcasts treated as second-class citizens. Noaru could imagine exactly why they’d chosen to surrender rather than die with their “betters.”

“There’s one last formality we have to observe before we can let ya into the pirate life,” said the rakshasa. “The only way for you to go from enemy to not-enemy is for you to submit yourselves me to my lovely crew, if ya catch my drift.”

Master Scourge and Mister Plugg kicked them down onto their stomachs to make it abundantly clear. The officers sliced and tore the uniform fabric off Famin and Giers’ asses. The two captives only had time to gasp in clenching shock as the cecaelia rammed his cock into the tiefling’s anus and the drow rammed theirs into the half-elf’s.

Cwel and Monog pushed past Noaru on either side to mount the two at the end of the line. The adaro shoved their cock into the pussy of the screaming, writhing changeling. The boggard shoved his dick into Tirak, the cambion gritting his teeth at the toad’s humiliating anal assault.

Barna grabbed Jakshaw by the horns and flipped the bound goat around onto his back. The captain gave Noaru and her twitching ear a pointed look. “I know he ain’t pretty, but you’re a pirate, bunny girl. You know the code.”

In truth, she didn’t and she wasn’t. The ganzi had been marooned on Raptor Island after stowing away on the wrong ship. She couldn’t let them know she wasn’t a pirate, much less a sailor.

Noaru steeled her spine and stiffly approached the bound goat. She straddled his shoulders with a grimace and kneeled down, bending forward on all fours to reach his dick.

“Ugh.” The bunny took the goat’s flaccid cock into her mouth. Between the warmth, suction, and resolved strokes of her tongue, she worked the tiefling’s dick into a swelling erection in her mouth.

“Here, lemme help,” said Captain Barna.

Before she could raise her head off the goat’s cock, the jackal had torn through her pants, exposing her white-tufted tail and short-furred ass. One hand forced her hips down against Jakshaw’s muzzle, the tiefling’s obliging tongue snaking up her anus.

The other shoved her head down on Jakshaw’s dick, impaling Noaru’s throat to the hilt. The goat’s head rammed the back of her throat.

The bunny choked, her eyes watering. She pushed back against the captain’s hands, but the rakshasa was too strong. He held her down, limbs flailing against the deck, stuffed in the mouth and anus until she came with a humiliating shudder under the jackal’s hands.

A single, measly orgasm wasn’t good enough for the member of the Wormwood. Captain Barna continued to hold the kicking, jerking bunny girl down on the goat’s penetrating penis and tongue until that slave worked spasm after spasm into her tail-twitching ass and blew his load into her penis-gagged throat.

Noaru finally went limp under the rakshasa’s hands, a slight tremor in her legs. The captain lifted her off the goat and into his arms.

“See? Now was that so hard?”

Chapter Text

A few days later, Noaru was at work hauling rope below deck and untying the old knots when she heard boots walk casually down the steps into the middle hold. The boatswain swaggered over and crouched behind her shoulder.

“What do you want?” snapped the bunny.

“That’s no way to address a commanding officer.”

“What do you want, sir?” she asked again, her voice no less brittle.

The cecaelia leaned forward until his breath raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “I know you’re no sailor. You have the worst knot work I’ve ever seen.”

The ganzi froze, eyes dilating in primal fear. She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

“Our dear captain hasn’t realized this. Meet me here, midnight tonight, if you want him to remain ignorant.”

Master Scourge left Noaru without any other choice. She stayed awake in her hammock with the rest of the crew in the lower hold. At the midnight bell, she snuck past the snoring sailors and up the stairs to the middle hold.

The boatswain waited for her behind a stack of crates with coils of rope in his hand. He chuckled darkly. “Let’s work on your knots, shall we?”

He showed her just how to tie a secure, tight binding, first around her breasts, then pinioning her arms to her sides. He bound her forearms tight behind her back and lashed her legs together at the thighs, knees, and ankles.

Noaru, trussed like a worm, curled helplessly on her side on the floorboards. The stairs from the lower and upper deck creaked. Master Scourge grabbed her around the chest and waist and pulled her into hiding with his back to the crates.

The bunny’s back and bound arms pressed flat against his chest. She was sitting in his lap, the hard length of his dick digging between her naked asscheeks.

The boatswain peeked around the corner of the crates. He stifled a giggle and lifted Noaru by the hips just enough to set the head of his cock against her asshole. The cecaelia shoved her down onto his dick, stuffing a tentacle into her mouth to suffocate the ganzi’s tortured scream.

Master Scourge bounced the lying bitch in his lap, his impaling dick splitting her ass apart. His second tentacle slithered like a crotch-rope through the tight squeeze of her bound thighs. It plunged and stuffed into the bunny’s pussy even as it kept its hard, rope-like pressure grinding up the slit of her cunt.

He forced the helpless bound and stuffed bunny to cum on his dick and tentacles with spasm after body-wracking spasm until her head lolled on the tentacle pumping in her throat. The cecaelia grabbed both long ears in one hand and held her head over the side of the crates so she could see what he’d found so amusing, even if her mind was no longer capable of processing it.

Mister Plugg had qlippoth-spawn Famin on the floor of the cargo hold. She was on her stomach, wrists bound to the ankle of the same side leg. Her eyes were blindfolded and a magic wooden dildo stuffed in her mouth. A second and third vibrated and fucked her in the asshole and pussy.

All over her body, lipless, toothless maws opened and panted in torturous ecstasy. The first mate, holding her down by the shoulders, pistoned their cock into the maw between her shoulder blades. As they came, the drow’s seed seeped out from each of her monstrous mouths, coating Famin in slick layer of their cum.

“Looks like we’ve both found ourselves a secret fucktoy,” whispered Master Plugg. He came into the trembling body of his helplessly bound bunny. But he only removed his pistoning tentacles once the first mate had returned above deck.

Noaru gasped for breath, her body still quivering uncontrollably in the throes of last orgasm the cecaelia had raped into her pussy. She didn’t notice Master Plugg carrying over to the tiefling still bound and writhing on the floor at the mercy of the magic dildoes until it was too late.


He shoved the wad of her underwear into the bunny’s mouth. With the remaining coils of rope, the merciless boatswain bound the ganzi and the tiefling chest to chest and hip to bucking, grinding hip.

The fabric wad gagged Noaru’s desperate whimpers and sobs as Famin mindlessly humped the bunny’s cunt with her own. Worse, the qlippoth-spawn’s maws sucked the ganzi at every point of contact, including her bound, sensitive breasts.

The women, squirming and writhing, one for escape and the other in heedless rut, worked the other into a feral haze of electric orgasm that shocked every sentient thought out of their minds.

Master Scourge shook his head. Cumsluts, every one of them. He came onto their rocking bodies and left them fucking on the floor until just before the crew woke at dawn.

Chapter Text

Captain Barna kept the Chelish military vessel, towing it behind the Wormwood. It couldn't manage more than a short sail in its current state, but once they refitted it as an innocent merchant vessel, it'd be worth a pretty penny at any port on the Fever Sea.

The nearest, uninhabited island with enough timber for repair was Bonewrack Isle. Barna assigned Master Scourge and a team of the boatswain's choosing to take the booty ship to the isle and commence refurbishment. They'd meet back up in Port Peril after the sale.

Master Scourge selected Giers, Jakshaw, Tirak, and, much to her dismay but not to her surprise, Noaru. The skeleton crew were able to sail the ship into a deep lagoon and haul it to shore for repairs. Master Scourge sent the four into the jungle to fell the necessary trees.

Noaru only spoke to her crewmates once they were well out of the boatswain’s earshot. “This is your ship, isn’t it?”

“Yes…,” said Giers.

“And you know how to repair it?”

Jakshaw bleated hesitantly but affirmatively.

“ there anyone here who has any need or desire to remain slaves under Master Scourge?”

“No,” said Tirak without a second of hesitation.

“Good. Find me tonight. Midnight.”

As Noaru expected, Master Scourge wasn’t suddenly about to let her get a full night’s sleep thanks to a simple change of venue. She met him in the hold. Moonlight and sound of waves washing along the beach filtered in through the jagged holes remaining in the hull.

“Take off your clothes and kneel,” the boatswain commanded.

The ganzi glowered but obeyed. He shackled her wrists around a support poles so that she faced the wood, presenting her furry ass.

Master Scourge climbed on top of her. He braced his hands on her shoulders, forcing her tits to the ground in a bestial mount. She grunted and shivered under him as the cock she knew so well split the mouth of her anus once more.

His dick continued to knock soft, animal grunts from the helpless bunny as the boatswain pounded her trembling ass into the floorboards. The walls of her anus tightened with every flesh-churning thrust. In minutes her anus was wrapped around his cock like a squeezing glove.

Noaru gasped and bucked under the raping boatswain, bound arms jerking her shackles taut around the pole. For all her protests, she was completely helpless to the ecstasy his pistoning dick sent rocketing up her spasming asshole.

Master Scourge shoved two fingers in her drooling, moaning mouth and closed his eyes in climax. He was not expecting the sudden, extreme tightening around his own throat.

The boatswain’s eyes snapped open. Jakshaw and Tirak had his own whip coiled around his neck. The two pulled in opposite directions, crushing his windpipe. Master Scourge wheezed, flailing in panic even as cum burst from his triggered dick.

“Go to Hells,” hissed Giers, standing directly behind the choking rapist. They slammed their booted foot into the center of the man’s spine. Snap!

Jakshaw and Tirak unceremoniously threw the dead man off the bunny and unshackled her wrists. Giers helped her sit up against the support pole.

“The unmarked merchant vessel is ours, partner,” said the half-aquatic-elf, smiling wryly.

Noaru smiled weakly back. “We have a ship. The sea is ours.”