A Night at the Shattered Sword

“MORE ALE!”
The call rose above the general din of the crowd, marking the beginning of what could only be a night of debauchery and overindulgence for the group of dwarves that were currently seated around a table near the back of the room. There had recently been an upswing in travelers passing through the city; that meant more gold was being spent, which, in turn, was responsible for the near full house at the Shattered Sword Tavern.

It also was responsible for the near-maniacal pace at which Annoch had to work to keep up with the demands of the crowd. The Shattered Sword was located a few blocks away from the market district, making it a convenient spot for merchants and tourists alike to unwind after a long day. With the proper amount of staff, this would be a normal, routine night of tavern work. Unfortunately for the overworked human, this night would prove anything but routine.

The call of “MORE ALE!” continued, this time punctuated by the banging of fists on the table.

“I'M ON MY WAY, NOW STUFF IT!” Annoch yelled back, grabbing a couple pitchers from below the bar. Brushing his hair out of his face, he turned to the casks situated behind him and took a moment to breathe as the foamy, golden alcohol poured from the spout. Most taverns had wenches, he thought to himself. It was just him and the cook tonight- a short little halfling who managed to keep a steady flow of steaming, delicious food coming out of the kitchens despite just barely being able to see over the counters. He didn't think twice about it-no sense in questioning a system that obviously worked.

Th first pitcher filled, he moved on to the second one. He gazed into his frothy reflection, and sighed. He didn't think he was bad looking, for a human. He considered growing his hair long, in the elven style, but it probably would only accent his human attributes. Most elves had blonde hair, anyways, much different from his brown mop. His face looked back at him, distorted in the swirls of foam. Dull green eyes, average nose, full lips-his one semi-redeeming feature, he thought-and a skin tone that suggested too much time indoors, almost tan, but just below the mark. Average, he thought. Oh well.

With a start, he shut off the tap just before the pitcher overflowed. Carrying the pitchers of ale over, he set them on the table with a satisfying thunk. “Anything else?” he asked, out of habit.

The dwarves looked thoughtful for a moment.

Then, in unison, they shouted, “MEAT!”

Annoch sighed. It was going to be a very long night.


The last patron drunkenly staggered out of the bar, singing loudly. It was a song Annoch had heard a half-dozen times before, never by someone who was sober. He had attempted to figure out the lyrics, once, but they were constantly changing and shifting from one night to the next, depending on the exact level of drunkenness of the singer.
Annoch shut the door of the tavern and took a seat at the bar. After last call, the place was usually empty. The cook had left a half-hour before, and the few rooms they had were all taken. Annoch wanted nothing more than to fall into his own bed, but the debris of the night had to be cleaned up.

He wearily grabbed a broom and began to sweep.

It was as he was attempting to get a particular bit of crust out from a corner when he heard the door of the tavern open and shut. “Place is full,” he said, not turning around. “You'll have better luck at-”
He never managed to finish his sentence. He was roughly grabbed from behind, a gloved hand covering his mouth. His muffled yells of panic did no good-all it served was for the grip around him to tighten.

“Quiet,” a voice behind him hissed, “or we're both dead.”

His eyes widened at that. Dead?

He was dragged over to the door as his mysterious assailant pressed against it. Outside, he could hear shouting and the sound of hooves- The town guard, he realized with terror.

“He went this way!” a voice shouted. The hoof-beats grew louder. “Down here!”

Shit. Shitshitshit- He vaguely wondered if his captor was thinking the same thing, and exactly how expendable he was considered.

The hoof-beats stopped, right in front of the door.

He was jerked backwards, over to the counter of the bar. He was thrown over it as a huge shape vaulted alongside him- he caught the glint of armor and a giant cloak before he hit the ground. An adventurer? Soldier?

“Stand up and pretend nothing's wrong. I'll make it worth your while-”

The door to the Shattered Sword was flung open as Annoch straightened himself out. Two members of the town guard were standing in the door, staring suspiciously at him. Both of the had their hands on their swords. Behind them, he could see more guards on horseback heading down the street, checking market stalls.

They lost him, he realized.

“Evening, citizen,” the guard on the left said.

“Evening, sir,” Annoch replied. He suddenly became aware of the hulking mass crouched down awkwardly behind the counter next to him. He grabbed a tankard and started wiping it. “Something wrong?”

The guard on the left took a seat. “We're looking for someone. Bastard's wanted by the Crown.”

The other guard had begun to wander, looking at the half cleaned mess that was the remains of the tavern. Annoch started to sweat.

“Well, he's not here, if that's what you're after. We just closed.” He said pointedly.

The guard's eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you didn't see anything? He just came down this way.”

Annoch fixedly wiped at the glass. “No, sir. Just busy cleaning up, is all."

A few beats passed. The guard stared at him, then exchanged glances with his partner, who was poking around the fireplace.

“Alright. Well, if you DO see him, just raise the alarm. Can't be too careful with dragonborn.”

Annoch looked up suddenly, fearfully. “Dragonborn?” The figure beside him twitched.

“That's right. Wanted by the crown. Dangerous.” The guard got up with from his stool. “Gotta comb the whole market district tonight. Whole town's on high alert.”

Annoch gulped. “Best of luck to you, then.”

“Yeah.” The guard looked to his partner, who was now staring wistfully at the casks of ale behind the bar. “Let's go get this over with.”

After a long, final glance by the guards, the door shut.

Annoch exhaled. His legs suddenly felt like jelly. Beside him, the cloaked figure waited a few more moments, then began to rise.

“Lock the door.” The dragonborn rasped, obviously shaken. Annoch started towards the door, then froze in his tracks as he heard a sword being drawn behind him.

“Insurance.”

Annoch cleared his throat and started towards the door. There was that avenue of escape, gone. His only hope now was for someone in one of the rooms above him would come downstairs, see the situation, and act heroically so he would have a chance to warn the guards. Surely they'd understand?

He reached the heavy wooden door, and hesitated with the latch. After a moment, he felt the point of cold steel against the back of his neck. “Lock it.” The wooden latch dropped into the lock with an air of finality, and Annoch's stomach dropped along with it. He was trapped.

“Turn around.”

Annoch did so, and finally got his first look at his captor.

A long, brown cloak was draped over his shoulders, covering his well-muscled frame. An iron cuirass, emblazoned with the symbol of the crown, covered his chest, and he was wearing what seemed to be a custom set of armor on his legs that had a space for his thick, green-scaled tail. His eyes traveled up to the sword that was currently being held by a clawed hand at his throat, and noted that it didn't seem to be any more remarkable than a standard issue sword. He finally locked eyes with the dragonborn. They were slitted, like a true dragon's, and a dark golden color. His head was horned, with some of the horns sporting red, painted rings, and his snout was adorned with red, horizontal stripes.

Annoch gulped. He was a dragonborn, all right.

He lowered the sword, certain that Annoch could no longer escape into the arms of the guards, and grinned. Annoch couldn't hep but notice the sharpness of his fangs

“That was a close one. Almost thought I'd be discovered.”

Annoch didn't respond. He was still hoping someone would come downstairs and rescue him from this nightmare.

The dragonborn gestured with a sword. “Mind getting me a drink while I think?”

Annoch wasn't in the habit of arguing with armed men, much less armed dragonborn, and so did as he was told. The dragonborn followed him to the bar, and took the same seat that the guard did a few minutes earlier.

He filled a tankard with ale, and handed it over. The dragonborn took a few long droughts, and set the empty tankard back down. Annoch couldn't help but be impressed, despite himself.

“Now,” the dragonborn said, slitted eyes gazing at Annoch. “How do you propose we get ourselves out of this mess?”

“We?!”

“Yes, we,” the dragonborn responded, gesturing to his empty tankard. “As I recall, you lied to the townsguard. Oh, and you happen to be harboring a known fugitive at this very moment.”

Annoch's eyes bulged. “You were going to kill me if I told the truth!”

The dragonborn chuckled. “Yes, well, I'm a criminal. What more did you expect?”

Annoch was speechless. Flustered, he refilled the tankard out of habit.

“Listen, we can argue over semantics later. As it stands right now, the whole place is looking for me, and I need a place to stay. You happen to have such a place.” He took a drink.

“Rooms are occupied,” he said, hollowly. The reality of the situation was catching up to him.

“Not all of them.”

It took Annoch a good few seconds to catch the full meaning of the sentence.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What are you going to do, turn me in? You know the townsguard won't just let you go. They don't like to admit failure. They'll just say you were complicit and leave it at that.”

“No.”

The dragonborn sighed. “Look, just one night. Tomorrow I'll be out of your hair. Promise.”

Annoch sighed. “I don't even know your name, he said, weakly.

The dragonborn smiled. “Kilrakas. A pleasure.”
---
Annoch sat on the edge of his bed in the cellar of the Shattered Sword and re-evaluated his day. His first mistake had been to wake up, he decided. His second had been to get out of bed, and his third was to not walk as far away from this town as possible. He sighed, and looked at the source of his current woes, who was currently climbing down the ladder that led into Annoch's private quarters.

He wasn't that hard on the eyes, in all actuality. If they had met under different circumstances, he would've been.. still afraid, most likely, but at least he could look back on the moment without being reminded of the fact that he'd been held at sword-point and threatened with his life.

Kilrakas had made it into the room, at this point, and was looking around almost discontentedly.

“Sorry if it's not quite up to your standards,” Annoch said with more than a trace of sarcasm, “but beggars can't be choosers.”
“Oh, but they most certainly can, Kilrakas replied, taking off his cloak. “Look at me, for example. First among beggars, I'll admit, but that doesn't mean I don't indulge myself every now and then.”

Annoch watched him take off his boots, exposing his clawed feet. “The difference is,” he said, watching as Kilrakas started massaging them, “is that most people consider stealing a crime rather than an indulgence.”

Kilrakas looked almost hurt. “You think I'm a thief?”

“Well, you were being chased by the townsguard, which means you're a criminal, and I didn't notice any blood on your sword, which means you didn't murder anyone, so yes. Unless you mean to tell me you borrowed all those gold pieces in your money bag.”

Kilrakas laughed, a booming chuckle that reverberated around the stone walls of the cellar. “Spoken like a true detective. However, you missed something in your analysis,” he said as he undid the buckles on his cuirass. “Swords can be replaced.”

Annoch's eyes grew wide. “Calm down, I didn't kill anyone,” Kilrakas said, reassuringly. “Just don’t be fooled by appearances, Annoch. Remember that.”

Annoch tried to remember how he had come to be given life advice by a criminal and came up empty. With a start, he realized that he'd never actually told Kilrakas his name.

“How did you..” he began, but was cut short as Kilrakas unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor.

If he had thought Kilrakas had cut an imposing figure before, that was nothing compared to now. The armor had hidden the fact that Kilrakas was, well, sexy as fuck.

Like the rest of his body his torso was covered with green scales, but these were finer, smaller scales that were a much lighter green than the rest of him. He was well muscled, with bulging pecs, and arms that looked like they'd have no trouble tearing him in half if need be. He had to have a solid six pack-probably eight if he ever really decided he wanted it- and leg and thigh muscles that could crush his head. His cock was huge, hanging over his thick heavy balls like a python. His own cock started to press against the roof of his pants just at the sight of him.

He realized he was staring. With a furious blush, he looked at Kilrakas, and was met with a sly grin. Shit, he caught me, he thought. He coughed.

“Well, there's only one bed, so you'll have to make do on the floor. I can give you a blanket, or-

He was interrupted by Kilrakas' hand on his shoulder. He looked up into those golden, slitted eyes, and the words caught in his throat.

“I said earlier I'd make this worth your while,” Kilrakas almost purred. “Just a little...indulgence, if you will..”

Annoch opened his mouth to protest and was met with Kilrakas' lips pressing against his own. His cock straining in his pants, he was pushed back onto the bed. Kilrakas' thick tongue was wrestling with his own, exploring every crevice in his mouth, teeth tugging at his lower lip. His clawed hands were holding him down, he couldn't move, he couldn't protest, this was absurd, he was a criminal-

Kilrakas pulled back and let Annoch catch his breath.

“Well, well, I do believe you're enjoying this,” Kilrakas said with a smirk.

“I don't think that-” Annoch was cut off as Kilrakas heaved himself onto the bed, the mattress protesting noisily under the combined weight of the dragonborn and the human.

“Of course it's a good idea,” Kilrakas said as he stared into Annoch's eyes. “when have I ever been wrong before?”

Any protestations were cut short as Kilrakas once again closed the distance between them in another kiss, this one just as passionate as the one before it. Kilrakas slid one had up his shirt, feeling the warm flesh underneath it, and Annoch took this opportunity to use his free had to caress the back of Kilrakas' head, exerting just enough pressure to make the kiss just that much more urgent.

Kilrakas broke, leaving Annoch gasping. He tore at Annoch's shirt, shredding it, and ripped it open to reveal the slightly muscled human's chest. With a growl, he leaned in and licked the quivering human's neck, up to to his ear. He leaned in. “I want you,” he whispered, hot breath tickling Annoch's ear. Annoch could only moan in response. Annoch felt his scaled hand caress his cheek as Kilrakas lowered his face next to his own, and bit down into the space between Annoch's neck and shoulder. Blood welled as his fangs just barely broke the skin, and Annoch screamed in a combined haze of ecstasy and pain. Using his long, thick tongue to lap up the blood, Kilrakas looked into his eyes and grinned. “Good boy,” he murmured.

Annoch pulled Kilrakas close and kissed him hard, panting. “More,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around the muscled torso of the dragonborn. Kilrakas didn't answer, only tore at Annoch's pants, freeing his cock and tossing the scraps of cloth to the side. His own cock was rock hard at this point, and Annoch nearly screamed as he ground his hips and rubbed their cocks together. The sensation was electric, his human member rubbing against the much larger dragon-man’s, precum leaking everywhere. the feeling of Kilrakas' heavy swollen balls resting against his own. Bolts of pleasure raced to his brain, coming faster and faster as Kilrakas ground against him, Annoch's hand exploring his muscular back, feeling the muscles heave and move, exploring the valleys and hills that were just under the green scales.

Kilrakas suddenly pulled away, leaving Annoch whimpering. He felt scaled hands flip him over with hardly any effort, exposing his hole to the dragon-man’s cock.

“Kilrakas, I don't think you'll fit, Annoch said, almost involuntarily leaning back into Kilrakas' cock. “I mean, I haven't been with anyone else, so..”

“We'll just go slow, then,” Kilrakas said, and Annoch shuddered at the lust that was so readily apparent in his voice.

Kilrakas ran his hands along Annoch's torso, and Annoch leaned back into Kilrakas' embrace. He felt the thick tongue returning, lapping at his neck, and he shuddered as Kilrakas' hands explored his pecs and rubbed along his stomach, then exploring lower, briefly playing with Annoch's cock before retreating, pushing him down onto all fours.
It wasn't long before Annoch felt Kilrakas' cock against his ass, Kilrakas grinding away, precum leaking out over Annoch's back. He felt Kilrakas' hands return, rubbing the firm globes of his ass, smearing precum around his hole. He bit his lip as the hands went away, and he felt the tip of Kilrakas' cock poking at it.

Slowly, but insistently, Annoch felt Kilrakas pushing deeper and deeper into his ass. The dragon's cock stretched him to the limit, and several times they paused, waiting for annoch to adjust before pushing further.

Kilrakas withdrew, then pushed back in, repeating over and over again until Annoch felt the dragon-man’s swollen balls slapping against his own. Holy shit, he's all the way-

Annoch's world exploded as Kilrakas made contact with his prostate, his body on fire as he pushed back against the dragonborn, the wet sounds of flesh against flesh driving him crazy, their balls slapping together as they rutted, Annoch not even paying attention to the sounds he was making. Above him. Kilrakas, hand grasping Annoch's hips tightly, going as far in as he could go, occasionally stroking Annoch's rock hard cock.

Suddenly, Annoch's cock seized, and he hurriedly increased their rhythm, going faster and faster until a bolt of pure pleasure raced down his cock and he orgasmed, white ropy seed splattering onto the sheets as his eyes rolled back into his head. Above him, Kilrakas felt Annoch's hole clamp down on his cock, hard, and he lasted a few more seconds before blowing his hot, draconic load into the human.

Annoch felt the hot, sticky seed blast into him, filling his ass with hot, sticky cum. He collapsed onto the sheets below, feeling Kilrakas' cock slowly withdraw from his ass, still leaking cum. The dragonborn flopped down beside him, and Annoch allowed him to be drawn into the dragonborn's arms.

His fingers traced the scales on Kilrakas' forearm as he pressed against the soft, warm underside of the dragonborn. His legs becoming intertwined with Kilrakas', he allowed himself to fall asleep. The last thing he remembered was Kilrakas whispering something unintelligible into his ear.

---
Annoch awoke with a start as a loud BANG emanated from upstairs. He looked around frantically, and spotted Kilrakas hurriedly putting on his armor.

“Kilrakas! What's going on?” He shouted as another loud BANG shook the rafters.

“GOOD MORNING TO YOU, TOO!” Kilrakas shouted, as he struggled with his boots. “I THINK THEY FIGURED OUT WHERE WE'RE HIDING!”

Annoch's blood ran cold. “YOU MEAN WHERE YOU'RE HIDING?” he shouted back as he looked for some spare clothes to throw on.

“I DON'T THINK THEY CARE FOR PARTICULARS AT THIS POINT, /ANNOCH/,” Kilrakas sarcastically replied as he grabbed his sword. “NOW, IS THERE A WAY OUT OF THIS CELLAR THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE ANGRY MEN WITH POINTY METAL?”

Annoch looked around. “THE SEWER!” he suggested. Kilrakas looked put out. “ANYTHING ELSE?”

CRASH.

“NEVERMIND, LET'S GO!” Kilraks shouted as he ran to the grate. With a mighty yank, he pulled it clean off. Suddenly, he paused, and looked directly at Annoch.

“Are you coming with me? He asked, quietly.

Annoch looked at the dragonborn for what seemed like forever. Above him, he could hear the heavy boots of the townsguard rattling the wooden floorboard, tearing the place apart. Before him, a criminal, that had managed to get him into bed, wanted for...something. He stared into the dragonborn's slitted, reptilian eyes. What would happen if he stayed? What could happen if he went?

Absolutely anything.

And he made his choice.