Ashrin and Dirac 1

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The port of Kulexus wasn't always the pirate haven it is today. Once it was a respectable law abiding city of the empire. While it still answers the call to arms today, a series of events had caused it to fall from a dull if reliable port to a prosperous but dangerous hive of beings on the right side of wrong. Where anything could happen, and where young men (and women) run away to too seek their fortune, whatever it may be.

The events that led to Kulexus becoming what it is began with the acts of a single Skaven. A gutter runner of Clan Sniek; a clan noted (or would be noted if anyone was allowed to know they existed) for being comprised of only female skaven (and their slaves), which should by all rights be impossible considering that most skaven females get mutated and twisted by their male counterparts into literal baby making machines. The gutter runner's name was (and is) Ashrin, and it is with her that our story begins...:

She moved along the roofs of the surface dweller port, unseen and unnoticed by the ignorant man-things below her. Normally she- Ashrin the illusive -found herself amused and calmed by flaunting her superiority over the surface dwellers by being above THEM while they were none the wiser, but right now she had a mission. A very important mission to her continued wellbeing. She was nearing heat, and needed a breeding slave for herself. The other runners, jealous -Yes! Jealous!- of her skills and inevitable rise to glory, conspired to have her placed on a long term mission EXACTLY when her heat would start. The fiends! By the time she returned all the breeders would be too exhausted for her, and she would be left alone to suffer while they laughed at her plight. But she was clever! Only a runner of her skill and cunning could turn such an attempt at sabotage into a advantage! She would take a man-thing for herself; a breeding slave of her very own, and no one would get to use him but her! No one would get to even LOOK at him but her! “Yes...” she thought smirking as she skitter-leaped to the next roof, her own slave to satisfy her every desire. He would dance for her, breed her when she demanded it, even when she wasn't in heat! Breeding just for fun was something usually reserved for the leaders but she would soon know that privilege. And he would do more than that. He would hunt for her. Bring her meat and clothes from the surface, and jewels and drinks. He would serve them to her as she lay in her bed smiling, laughing at the others as they saw how spectacularly their plan backfired-ACK!

She'd tripped! A loose brick betrayed her and sent her tumbling down towards the street! With her skills she easily made it so she would suffer no real injury but so surprising was her fall that she failed to land on her feet. As she shook her head trying to regain her bearings she heard several voices...that seemed very close to her. She jolted in surprise as she noticed she was surrounded by the man-thing guards that patrolled the port. Damnit! Moving quickly she made to silence them all, but they dogpiled her before she could get her arm-blades up. A tussle broke out as the man-things worked to disarm and manacle her hands behind her back. She struggled most-mightily, but superior numbers won out. She took some satisfaction in nicking one of the stupid guards with her blades before they were confiscated; THAT one's fate was sealed at least, though it would be hours before it became noticeable. The dimwitted man-things argued quietly with each other after restraining her (and keeping her pressed face down-ass up in a most undignified manner, with an improvised gag currently stuffed in her mouth), thinking she couldn't hear what they were saying. Another example of why surface dwellers were inferior. Her sense of superiority was short lived however, as she realized they were arguing how to go about killing her! Fortune (and/or the Verminqueen, all praise to her), however, favored her superior children as a voice cut into the guards' discussion; “That will do, gentlemen. Now, what do we have here?”

She managed to force her head up against the pressure the guards were placing on her to gaze at the source of the voice. And in her opinion this was the best looking man-thing she had ever seen: Dressed in red silks and combat leathers was a young man-thing of obvious nobility if the way the guards not holding her down saluted, well liked judging by the smiles and the way they said “my lord”, and with a smile that seemed to draw all eyes too him and dare them to look away. She hid a smirk behind the gag; she had her target now. Funny how after spending all that time searching for a good breeding slave one just walked up to her. And he seemed distracted by her outfit. Good, that meant he would be easy to manipulate and trick-catch. Arranging her body to be positioned in a way that drew attention to her chest like she'd seen the slave-hunters practice, she barely held in a laugh of triumph as his eyes shamelessly stared. Too easy! All she had to do now was wait and he would be hers...

Strolling down the streets of port Kulexus in his red finery, one Dirac Tirpitz pondered his current state. The relatively young and only child of the duke that ruled Kulexus (The august Duke Solner Tirpitz), he was many things: An apprentice Sorcerer (though he pretended to be a mere university student with no one that mattered the wiser), an adult (technically) male with lots of friends in low places (and thus rather popular with the common rabble), a reckless duelist with a wanderlust that was (currently) unsated, a somewhat reckless and enthusiastic experimenter with a desire to obtain a source of warpstone, and a rather bored and lustful boy. He had grown tired of the local prostitutes and wanted someone...different. He had in fact been on his way to a tavern rumored to have some newly employed elvish dancers (probably fake but he needed to see for himself) when he heard a commotion near an alleyway. Quickening his pace, what should he see but a figure with a pair of obviously warpstone weapons getting piled-on by the constabulary. He started walking towards the action, a smile on his face as he considered how luck rather than careful information gathering would resolve one of his current goals. His pace quickened when he heard the chief constable talk of hanging the person, and that simply would not do. Clearing his throat he moved forward some more and spoke.

“That will do, gentlemen. Now, what do we have here?” He asked as he strolled up. The guards started, then some smiled as they recognized his distinct coat. Most began to rise while babbling out the customary “My lord.” and other such pleasantries that he summarily ignored as the person they were jumping on managed to get to...her knees. And what an exotic delight he saw before him! He would think she was some sort of rat-based beastman if not for the lack of horns, the exotically beautiful body of what was very obviously a female, and the fact that she was cleaner than the guards that were holding her down. Red eyes that seemed to glow, and raven colored hair and fur that upon touching and rubbing it felt as smooth as his silk lining. The female seemed to appreciate his roving eyes as she arched her back juuuust so to show off her body. Her breasts, in particular, demanded attention and mention as the perkiest he'd seen. He was pondering how they would feel when he remembered the situation and set about convincing the guards to give him this literal answer to all his current problems; a source of warpstone AND a heavenly body. All that time and effort spent getting his ears to the ground and he finds what he's looking for on an evening stroll. It was GOOD to be him, or would be if his powers of persuasion pulled through.

“Still waiting for an answer to my question, constable.” “Ah! Sorry mi'lahd. We arent't sure. Best we could guess was its some beastman spy and we were going to hang it, per your fathers orders regarding such creatures...”

Ashrin bristled. Beastman? BEAST-man! They dare to squeak-say she was a beastman!? If she weren't so restrained she would have rip-teared that wretched man-thing's slandering tongue out! The cute-rich one fortunately seemed to better appreciate her body's incomparable perfection, and was educating the slanderer on his error. Still, beastman!?She should-hey! The cute-rich one was grabbing her breasts! The nerve! The cheek, the utter-!

Dirac outright laughed at the response he was given. “Beastman. Beast. MAN. Really? Are you blind my good man? What beastman ever looked half as good as this creature. Besides,” He went on, casually groping one of the female's breasts (to her sudden indignation, rather adorable honestly) and hefting it, enjoying the feel of it, “I HIGHLY doubt this delightful little rat is a MALE. And as we all know, part of being a beastMAN is being, well, a MAN. This is a female.” The constable seemed uncomfortable. “There are rumors of female beastmen, mi'lahd-” “Rumors yes. Just like there are rumors that there's a siren in the sewers and little green men on Morrislieb. If you say this is a female beastman I will tell you to pull the other one because it has bells on it. Clearly this is from some far off place. Lustria perhaps, all sorts of strange exotic creatures there. Wonder how she got here?” THAT got the guards thinking (or at least talking to each other), which gave him a few more seconds to take in the sight before him. He stroked her hair and face, before pulling at the loose stitching on her rather revealing outfit, getting a few ideas for “improving” said outfit. Finally one of the younger guards piped up, “Must have stowed away on a pirate vessel. Had one pirate-excuse me, 'honest businessman'!” They all laughed at that, “That wound up having a whole barrel full of what they called 'monkeys' burst out of the hold they'd been hiding in and wreaked all kinds of havoc!” Dirac and the other guards agreed that this was the most likely explanation of where she came from. Now that she wasn't being labeled a “beastman” (Honestly! Beastmen are incapable of having anything remotely pretty, its part of their curse according to the texts he had read. And this creature was beautiful!) he could suggest a different solution to her that didn't involve getting the hangman out.

“So what to do with her? A rhetorical question,” He added loudly and hastily, shutting up several guards, “She needs to be placed in an area where she won't be of a bother, and luckily for us all, I need a test subject.” “Test subject, mi'lahd?” “Oh yes. Still a student after all, and some of the experiments I need to do need a live subject. I think this creature will do nicely, don't you?” “I, I don't know, mi'lahd. Your father-” “Isn't here, doesn't need to know, and you and your fellows will be paid for 'delivering' this lab rat to me.” “I...*sigh* If it were anyone else, boy, I'd have them in irons for attempted bribery. But I know you. We all do, so I'll let this go.” “Brilliant! Lets get it down in writing, shall we? A proper wizard's contract,” He made sure the female heard that part looking her in her carmine eyes as he continued spinning his little lie. He was rather proud of this one, tricking people into thinking these feeble bits of paper had innate magic woven into it when really it was as magical as a bog roll, “All signed and sealed, with magic ensuring everyone behaves themselves. I still have a few of those enchanted papers for such things, so lets write it all out.” “Must we use one? You know I find it uncomfortable when you do one of those contracts.” “Oh we must. It will prevent her from trying anything funny after all...”

'Well well', Ashrin thought, 'looks like they're “giving” me to the cute-rich one. Fools! Once they were alone she'd knock him out and-wait. What was that about wizard?' Images and fantasies raced through Ashrin's mind, of having a brood of grey seers all grow up loyal to their mother and getting her much power and prestige. She could rule the clan, take over a mountain, do anything! Yes, what good fortune! All she had to-wait what are they doing? That's writing. One of them said contract. A magic contract!? It had to be, the cute one was a wizard! Oh no, oh Verminqueen's tits this was not-not good! She began to struggle and wriggle futilely against her manacles and the guard's grip on her as memories of what happened to those that got roped into a magic contract with the clan's seer and then went back on it forced themselves into her minds eye. Horrible fates, only sometimes ending in death always befell them. She struggled harder, watching in futile horror as the cute wizard man-thing signed the contract and shook hands with the ugly-stupid guard. That was it! She was stuck now! Unless she got that paper, she couldn't act against him! She didn't dare consider trying even subtle methods to resist and/or attack him. You couldn't sneak around this kind of magic. Oh this was bad! Very-very bad! She slumped in the guards' grip as she realized her situation. How hideously ironic and upside down the universe had suddenly become; a chosen one of the Verminqueen the collared and contracted slave of a surface dweller. As the guards attached a collar and leash to her neck and she was led away by her new master she managed to pull herself out of her funk. She would correct this. She would find a way to get that wretched contract away from the wizard, perhaps when he slept. Then, cute or not, good breeder material or not, she would MURDER-KILL him for this humiliation.

'Huh. She seems distressed.' Dirac thought as he wrote down the official receipt for the transaction 'I guess she bought my performance too. How adorable'. As far as the records were now concerned she was a criminal being sold as a slave instead of imprisoned, with all her effects (in particular those blades of hers) now his possessions. As he led her along, keeping her in front of him so he could stare at her shapely and scantily clad ass while they walked towards his manor home (sending two of the guards ahead with her effects), he went over his actions and words and tried to figure out why she seemed so horrified that he was saving her life. He had expected some distress but not to the extent she had shown, like a prisoner being led up the gallows stairs and struggling against each step­. Hmm. Perhaps it was the gag? He removed it, deliberately stroking her to both try and comfort her and familiarize himself with her exotic face and head. She seemed to just glare at him. Well, glare was the wrong word, her eyes were far too timid to be considered glaring but she was certainly upset with him. What did he-oh! Of course, that must be it.

Ashrin shivered involuntarily as her new keeper removed the gag from her mouth, her eyes glaring defiance at him as he touched her in a far too familiar manner. Then he tugged on the leash, making her stumble backwards into his chest and onto his perfectly positioned hand which was blatantly squeezing her buttocks. Cheeky little-oh Verminqueen preserve her that was a pun.

As she grumbled at herself he pulled her head down and close to his mouth before beginning to whisper intimately into her ear, “I know why you're frightened.” Hah! What nonsense. She was not-not frightened, and her legs were NOT. SHAKING. “You think I'm going to experiment on you. That I'm going to hurt you. Is that right?” Oh queen's tits she'd forgotten about that. Now her legs were really NOT SHAKING! She gulped as he pulled on the collar again, moving her even closer. “Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I have *squeeze* BETTER ideas for how to use you. I need a...companion. Someone able to do as they are told. I've found that females of my own kind are...dull. Not like you. Shapely. Interesting. Beautiful...perfect. I promise it will feel wonderful. So relax, my lovely. You have nothing to fear. Unless you find pleasure terrifying! Heh heh. Now there's interesting concept, frightened of feeling good.”

Well...this was too ironic for words. Insulting in fact. He wanted her for the same reason she had wanted him. A sign perhaps? Regardless, such thoughts and ponderings had to wait until she had that contract and her existence were back in her grasp where they belonged. She could use this in fact, the slave hunters always giggled as they talked about how easy it was to manipulate the man-things with their bodies. She just had to remember some of the tricks she overheard them squeak-say and hope she did them right. As they came across a massive iron gate she looked up at the sole building ahead of her and summed up her situation with a single vulgar sentence.

'What a rat-fuck.'