Lineage of Bastards

[10:14] * Xi|Wrk pulls him into a kiss.
[10:14] <Xi|Wrk> Mornin
[10:14] <Chibi-Reaper> Yo~
[10:15] <Xi|Wrk> ^_^ hey sweetpea
[10:51] <Xi|Wrk> So.
[10:52] <Xi|Wrk> Im thinking of making a Monster Hunter type Quest
[10:53] <Xi|Wrk> You're a scrawny youth who has been chosen for the honour of being you're goddess' cleanup crew for her... aheh... indiscressions on earth.
[10:55] <Xi|Wrk> Seeing as how she's both the goddess of fertility and battle, you kinda have your work cut out for you. She'd managed to get around with possibly every creature concieveable... and plenty which were concieved in minds of madmen.
[10:55] <Chibi-Reaper> lol
[10:56] <Xi|Wrk> So your job (as the one chosen from this current generation) is to sally forth, slaughter her embarassing children, and empower yourself and improve the lot of your village from their bodyparts.
[10:57] <Xi|Wrk> You're not the only one who gets the job, but you are the one for This current generation.
[10:58] <Xi|Wrk> The monster-hunters are called 'The Lineage'
[10:58] <Xi|Wrk> While the monster are called the Bastard Breed
[11:02] <Xi|Wrk> Basic mechanics of the setting is that bodyparts from monsters can give powers, and the Lineage have the ability to kill monsters and capture the powers in different ways.
[11:02] <Chibi-Reaper> Neat.
[11:03] <Xi|Wrk> Essentially it boils down to Self enhancement, Special Attacks, Summon Pet
[11:03] <Xi|Wrk> With a player being able to specialize in each one.
[11:04] <Chibi-Reaper> I can see Summoning as being 'they take a little /too/ much after the goddess....'
[11:04] <Xi|Wrk> ^_^
[11:05] <Xi|Wrk> Well self enhancement comes in 2 different flavours
[11:05] <Xi|Wrk> either wearing the vanquished monsters, or adding them literally to your body.
[11:06] <Chibi-Reaper> "Why is it prehensile? That is /not supposed/ to be prehensile!"
[11:06] <Xi|Wrk> A Lineage who does too much in the way of bodymod personal enhancement can end up seeming every bit as much a Bastard as the actual monsters.










It’s the first day of the year, and excitement fills your body like an overflowing cup.

You can hardly believe it, you were selected, YOU.

The ritual began as it had every other year, the mystic murmuring his words of power as he searched among the youths of the right age for the one who would receive the blessing; the one who would become the most powerful and respected of figures within the village.

The one who would find their destiny intertwined with certainty of doom to come.

Within the smoke laden tent you step, your body tired from the exertions of purification, even as your peers stared on in hateful envy. Each one of them you could see that gleam in their eyes, thinking ‘That should have been me’.

Hah. Well it wasn’t.  It was you! And you alone.

Within the tent was sparse, the bones and skins of Bastards hung all about the surprisingly wide area as the mystic chanted and sang over a brazier of white hot coal, smoke streaming upward as the tent’s top let it leak out.

Silver haired, thin and frail the elderly man raised up his head, the dark taunt skin of his arm rising up to point in your direction.

“You have been chosen my son, a heavy burden to hang about young shoulders, and yet, it is only the young to whom our goddess grants these gifts. You are not what would usually come to me, such a small child, usually it is the biggest and strongest for whom the call is given. No matter my child. All you need do is step forward and let mighty Tha’Uunga pour her fires into your soul. The Lineage. Those who came before, await your sacrifice.”

You don’t even hesitate to step forward unto the brazier of burning coals.

You grit your teeth at the pain. It is nothing compared to the joy of being one of the chosen.

“You are young. Too young to know that your pain is a weapon, let it flow though you, and then let it out. For you are chosen of the Lineage, and the goddess knows that a vessel which will not empty itself when full is one which will burst.”

You watch as his hand reaches out into the brazier to stir the hot coals up, letting the fires flare up and sear your shriveling flesh.

You’re lips move with his withered, blackened hand. The sound of your screaming pierces the air.

Yet you still stand, determined not to fail.

The mystic nods in appreciation.

“Good. Sing for the goddess. She loves such songs.” He does not stop stirring the coals. “It is in ecstasy and agony that all from her is born. All that lives should know her songs, the songs of sorrow, of struggle, of death, and of birth. For in Tha’Uunga both battle and birth are conceived. War is a pleasure for the unmaking, Sex a pleasure for the creating. Not a thing that lives can go without knowing her sweet embrace.”

Tears threaten to stream forth from your eyes, the pain beginning to overwhelm your will... but you could not fail you could not let yourself be incomplete... a Bastard instead of an inheritor.

No.

You would endure. No matter how long it took, no matter how your nerves were beset with pain, you would stand.



























It is agony.

Every whispering movement which flickers against your skin in silent sweeps hurts like nothing has ever hurt you before. Even the flames which had so viciously licked at your feet had not been like this. Like if something deep, deeper than mere burned off flesh, had been exposed and even now the gentle air gave it no respite.

It is ecstasy...

You had to admit, your body had never done this for you before... not even those few times you’d experimented, touched yourself in private as you’d seen other older women do.

I was both, it was neither and it was yours. Like a pure perfect gem, these sensations rose up within you, only to shatter themselves upon the new forged might of your body and mind. Things which should have made a human howl coursed through your body. And now you merely ignored them.

You knew that they were only echoes of what your body could now achieve... if you let it.

You stepped forward, body changed so utterly that you knew no mirror before you would proclaim you as you had known ‘you’ to have been.

Teeth twist into dark sharp smile. You have survived

“Ah, child.” The mystic smiles back, reaching his hand over to your own to help you up from your seat of burning coal. “You done well, better than many others in your place.”

“Stuff it old man...” you glare hard at his face, even as the new sensations settle within you, leaving you refreshed of body, power and purpose. “That gut shot wasn’t part of the ritual.”

He smiled even as you complained. “Yes, it isn’t not normally. I can remember only 2 others whom I’d done the same for, both have grown mighty and survived much. The point of the fire was to make you fall, a normal man would have crumpled to their knees much faster, the dead flesh giving them little to work with. Other have made it through with less tolerance for ritual, less accepting of the Goddess’ gifts of pleasure and pain.”

“... I smell bullshit old man.” You continue to glare, though anger softens from your brow and the savage grin returns. “Either way I made it. I’m of the Lineage now.”

“Yes. But at the moment, you are still a child. Still frail like a child is frail, still slow as a child is slow, still weak as a child is weak.” The mystic spoke. And though it seemed to you as if insult, something in you stirred to listen to his words.

“We should remedy this.” You spoke almost without thinking.

The Mystic’s lips once more quirked up into a grin. “Then come. Come dear child and grow to be the woman which I know you can become.”

You take his hand even as he step back out into the brilliance of the day, despite the flames, the tent had been dark, and your eyes needed to readjust. It felt like you’d spend an eternity within.

It had been a few days since you’d been purifying and resting in anticipation of the ritual, but you knew just as with every time before which you’d understood what was going on, the ritual extended into a feast. An offering of strength and succor to the newly born Lineage.

You walk forward, still naked as the day of your first birth, uncaring now for the encumbrance of mere clothing, ignoring the basic taboo of the community with a vicious glee. None would contest you, even as you strode confidently though the village from the Mystic’s tent, your body humming with anticipation as to your first meal.

All about you, the village hustled, every one of the door flaps at the front of every tent and greater wooden structure opened to watch as you stalked your way to the first meal of your new life.

“None of the Lineage born are alone, child. Every one of you walks a path alongside of those who are from the get of the first mate of Tha’Uunga, every one of you as much a part of us as you are a part of the goddess. And where you connect to the divine will which drives us all on, we connect you to the earthly parts of its bargain.” The Mystic walks beside you, leaning heavily upon his staff as he does, yet somehow never slowing the journey. “We are the countless arms, and eyes, and hands for those who are born of the goddess, and in this we are the ones who make the hunt for your first meal. We are the ones who provide for you the first time that you step from the womb of the Mother of Battles. And we are at your disposal.”

Somehow the hunching, bent, ancient, wizened figure of the Mystic looms over you, then bows. His thin frame augmented by what you now recognize as the ‘Gear’ which he carries. His lecture, tainted with the touch of tradition and the compulsion of the preacher, really sinks in as you enter the wooden lodge to which you both had been walking.

Before you five men and five women stand, their bodies also as naked as your own, each one you recognize as a hardened provider within the village. Men and women who hunt far and wide for animal products.

Two of them are missing limbs. One sports a gauged out eye. And all of them are freshly scarred, not even medical attention has been set to their bodies beyond what you recognize as herbs your father used on you to staunch the bleeding.

“Behold child. These hunters stand with proof of their devotion. They have been given the highest honour, the hardest task, by human hands they slew it, but mortal power they found a sacrifice worthy of your rebirth. With nothing, clad in nothing, holding nothing, they ventured out into the world as they had been born. Out to capture and bring before you this meal. Here now, proudly they bear the scars of human pride, that the Lineage may not forget, both what they protect their half-brethren from... and that they suffered and bled for your sake. They have hunted of the Bastard Breed, and now the most important meal of your life awaits. Chosen by their hands.” The Mystic still speaks as he stands beside you, his eyes piercing and his gaze steady upon the hunters who display themselves before you.

You look on with a slight shudder, each of these people, injured and damaged in your name, for your sake... you

[] feel thrill of power over them. That these hunters would gladly have hunted something impressive enough to do this to them for your sake... you know that you’ve arrived as the child of your goddess.
[] feel the pains of sympathy. That these hunters have given pieces of themselves, risked themselves for your sake... empathy wells within your body for your fellow man.
[] feel the pride of community with them. That these hunters had faced your eventual nemesis, fought as you would fight... the taste of loyalty entangles its grip within you.
[] feel nothing. There is nothing for you to think on... only the feast before you.
[] write in

Then your eyes fall, back down, down towards the feast which has been prepared. The scent of raw meat leaving you to shudder in delight... in desire.

You approach.

And before you is displayed a truly alien corpse. Three times the size of the biggest of the hunters, the thing is laid upon its back, chest splayed open and pinned down into the altar, exposing its tender innards.

Even now despite what you can tell has been damage by fire and any number of incredible stab wounds, it still squirmed and fought against its confinement. The stumps of several… necks?... still wriggling and their nightmarish heads set beside the beast still snapping strange serrated jaws.

It was beautiful.

“... a hydra…” you murmured, amazement flooding you. “They caught an entire fucking hydra…” you practically breathe out, as if entranced by the beast.

You’d seen one once, your own wild heart taking you out into the wilderness unsupervised, and far too far away from the village to have ever been safe. To say that they were dangerous was an understatement, of all the bastard breed there were few creatures which were considered strictly unkillable in their nature. Sure you could stab one, cut one, burn one, break one, crush one, utterly shred one with any manner of damage you could think of, within days of even the worse destruction, a Hydra would rise up once more from death. And coupled with their near insane tenacity, few ever attempted to even fight one. Hell, even other Bastards would avoid confrontation with these insane beasts of far too many heads and teeth.

And here now, it was opened before you... but you didn’t feel hungry.

No.

Your throat was suddenly dry, parched like nothing you’d ever before known. You couldn’t think, didn’t want for anything else but to reach in to the beast’s still beating heart and pull.

Twice you tried to remove the organ, sinking your fingernails into it as your hands slipped against the gore. Then finally you found purchase and yanked hard, your other hand scrabbling for the nearby knife of stone which laid upon the altar, created by the hunters to help you in your meal.

You carve in. The heart still beat.

You carve in. The veins still pump.

You carve in. The blood spils...

And you drink deeply of this bounty, almost like a child suckling at the teat of its mother.

















You could see it... the flare of excitement which ignited within him as he ran his claws across your throat, the delight which triggered within him at your shiver beneath the sharp silvery tips. The solid thickness of his corded musculature shifted beneath dark skin to an almost hypnotizing effect.

You’d always thought uncle to be handsome, the strangeness of his eyes notwithstanding. Not you’d admit to thinking of them as hypnotizing, beautiful even. But you’d never before considered the implications of carnal relations which he was now proposing.

Never once had you even suspected that he might want to use you for such gratifications.

It was all at once a bit frightening, and overwhelming.

“What would you even want from me Uncle?” You ask, testing the waters as you licked at the dried blood upon your lips.

“What else does a man want? You’re a smart enough girl, figure it out.” He spoke his voice full of the perfect calm assurance which he’d always projected from the very first day on which they’d met.

You scrunch your nose up in a look of concentrating bemusement. “Why would you want me? I’m barely even a woman, almost a boy.”

A grin crawled across his lips, revealing teeth sharp and gleaming. “Girl, if there’s one thing you should learn about men is that if there’s a hole to fuck, then there’s some man out there willing to stick himself in it. Besides, you’re pretty enough.”

His large hand continued across your naked body, delighting in your shifting discomfort. The fingers trailed across your back, and back up to your neck. You felt them squeeze lightly, leaving only the thumb free to continue against the side of your neck and face.

Its clawed finger dug in deep against the line of your jaw, leaving a trail of your own blood to mingle with the drying gore.

And suddenly you were utterly aware of just how your throat was bared to him. Somehow that seemed far more important than the fact that the rest of you were also exposed to his gaze.

A thin keening noise slipped from your lips, thoughtless in its utterance.

“Do you fear me Atali?” He asked, his clear voice cutting though the air, leaving you to shift about, the light pain of his thumb doing more to you than you may have ever suspected. The rush of pain gave way to pleasure, and a strange new desire.

“... no uncle.” You lie.

“Atali. Do you want for my help?” He asked, nose twitching as you knew he’d already caught you in the first lie.

“... yes uncle.” You speak true, mind suddenly wondering just what lurked beneath Hyrax cloth which adorned him. You’d only ever seen boys your own age naked, swimming in the water holes nearby, your uncle’s dark flesh presenting a mystery which offered now to solve itself for you.

“Atali. You want me.” He spoke once more, the voice of his dominating presence leaving you breathless with strange desire. An ache between your legs flutters by as he imposes himself upon you further with every breath. This was the perfect statement of a man who always got his way.

Uncle was the defacto leader of the village

You knew that within the village every person was his. Every last man woman and child belonged to him, and everyone prospered by his power and his craft. Uncle was the very pinnacle to which all youth aspired, and from your parents, you understood that he was also that which all men and women of the village feared and obeyed.

Just as you could one day become.

There was only one answer for such a man.

“Yes.”

He smiled.


[]=={}={}==[]


You could hardly think past the haze of sensation as his hands descend upon you once more, forcing your body down upon the blood streaked floor and pinning you with his superior weight. Heavily your breath reels out in puffs while those claws scraped their way down your sides in gentle stimulation.

As a maker of Gear you knew that Uncle was good with his hands, an assertion which you were now finding out firsthand as he roamed your body, eliciting every manner of squeak and forcing you to squirm in almost anguished need.

This was wrong. Your every instinct screamed, the scent of him heavy in the air, the feelings he illicited. This was wrong.

Taboo.

Forbidden.

A moan came to your lips as for the first time ever someone else made your stomach flutter with abject need, for the first time you felt the kneading and scratching of your flesh with the desire for intimate readiness, teasing and taunting you with his touch.

You wanted it.

You wanted it so very badly.

But still the wrongness of the act lingered, the scent of family, the familiar musk of the man, so close to that of your father, made this all the more strange, wrong, sinister.

You couldn’t help the conflicting feelings even as one hand finally drew itself down, the sharp nail barely pressed against your lower lip as it trailed in careful circles of perfect precision.

Your stomach flipped, and your lips fluttered in carnal necessity.

You look up, to see his face. He was wearing that sharp, predatory grin. It suit him well even as finally he spread your legs apart as widely as he could.

To another this may have been painful, the way in which he pushed them apart, pressing them down until your ass raised up into the air and those traitorous legs near touched the ground beside your head. You must have missed when he’d pulled his pants down, as now the dark thickness of his full member rested upon your lips, caressing and teasing them carefully.

You could barely think of anything but the heat and slick wetness between your own thighs as he continued his assault, all idea of wrongness, of the taboo which was being breached, washed away in his gentle yet commanding touch.

Your body yielded to his desire, and without any ceremony, he slid himself in.

The pressure was immense, as if your thigh had been infiltrated by an enormous spike with your Uncle at the other end, his body pistoning it back and forth as he worked his way into your virginal entrance in quick jerks and pushes, leaving you breathless with the mixture of sharp pains and slowly building pleasure which threatened to leave your mind blank.

You scream.

He pushes.

It aches… so good...

“Just like your mother...” he murmurs, his large hands pushing your legs down above your head, a position which you assumed should have hurt far worse than it did, the strange new toughness of your flesh killing the pains which should have been happening.

You moan and whine like a Delranger bitch in heat as thrust after thrust land, each more forceful than the last until finally you entire body bounces with every motion, hips slamming harder and harder in against eager hips… and your poor entrance abused and filled to the very brim.

Again you couldn’t help but think though the hazy of need, that this should have hurt more, that his every uninhibited thrust should have ruined you utterly, that the pain which your poor abused core now felt should have been more than a trickle which enhanced your pleasure rather than a torrent which distracted from it.

The world exploded, and stars filled your vision as the first orgasm of your life ripped its way though you, your fluttering core squeezing down hard upon the member which was lodged within it, a fact which seemed to please your Uncle immensely, his body pressing in upon you with increased vigor as his speed only increased.

You keened as he stopped almost all at once, leaving you empty as your eyes opened wide.

“Don’t worry girl, I’m hardly done with you. You’re a good fuck, better than your mother ever was.” He complimented, fingers running through your bloodied hair even as he rose to shed the last of his clothing and Gear.

He sat, his naked body, rippling with power, then reached over to take you by the chin, pulling you inexorably onward.

“I intend to make sure you’re well versed in intimacy before I make you go. I find myself enjoying your... durability.”

You can do little more than nod into his fingertips, even as he drew you finally into a savory kiss.

It would be hours before you’d finally spent all of your most passionate screams.




{()()()()[|]()()()()}



You laid there tired at the foot of the alter, your uncle’s fluids still leaking from lips stretched wide with fervent abuse, even as you look on to the hunters who brought you your food. They are still there, together waiting for your word, waiting for you to be finished and talking among each other.

Uncle had long since left with the remains of the Hydra carcass.

For some reason... you can’t help but feel... violated. It’s strange, something you’d never thought of before. Boys and sex hadn’t been something which had engaged your mind, and the way in which the other village kids treated you tended towards a strange mix of envy and bullying.

That Uncle had been your first disturbed you somewhat.

No.

No... That was just your old life talking, the old Taboo which no longer applied to you. The forbidden things which were no longer barred from your life.

No... You’d remember the pleasure, the hard intensity of the intimate embrace, the sensation of fullness which accompanied invasion. You hardly wanted to remember how good it hurt... how strange and new it all was. How the tears still fell down your eyes.

You’re thoughts tangled up upon themselves, trying to rationalize it all... no you still needed to put your affairs in order. To ensure the smooth transition from village girl, to mobile hunter of the Lineage.

In front of you the hunters languished, sitting together in a half circle, as they spoke about various unrelated issues.

You approached.

They grew silent.

“Brothers, Sisters.” You address them, the most respectful forms of the words, then kneel so that you can meet the sitting men and women eye to eye. “I thank you deeply for your gift. Its strength has become my strength. Your pain will not be wasted. This I promise you.”

You bow your head, feelings of commitment and warmth flooding your mind, replacing the thoughts of your act just a moment before.

In a way, you felt connected to these people before you, they had gone out and risked, and in some cases lost, life and limb for you. It wasn’t even something you’d ever considered before, the sacrifice which had taken place in your name. In the names of all those chosen before you to be reborn.

To hunt without Gear, without the goddess borne abilities and strength? With only your own skills and wits.

Impressive did far too little to sum it up. You felt lucky to know these people, to sit here before them.

“Bah... You’re already a waste. Degenerate thing.” An older man in the corner scowled, his voice and gaze both hatefully penetrating, pulling you from your reverent reverie. “You... and your uncle both. I risked my life for bitch that would spread its legs to its own. Well curse you and your journey to come. I want no part of it, and no reminded that I gave you succor of any kind.”

Your heart fell... shame casting it’s pall upon you, all the more galling due to the pride and connection which you’d felt for them a moment ago.

You tensed up, tears welling at the corner of your eyes, waiting for the next verbal blow to land. You at least owed them that much...

*SMACK*

“Yalith, shut it. You don’t speak for all of us, and you certainly don’t speak for me.” A woman spoke, strong muscular arm extended to land a blow across the man’s face. For a brief moment you see fire in the man’s eyes as his gaze meets hers... then falls away. She nodded, as if this had been the expected outcome. “I apologizes for him, Atali daughter of Daluun. It’s like he only ever opens his mouth to say stupid things. Yalith is a good hunter, the best tracker of us all really, but he forgets his place easily. Forgets that the Lineage are no longer constrained to the boundaries and laws of man.”

You struggle to hold back the tears which slide down though the dried gore. Nothing comes to your lips as yours fingers tighten into a fist.

The woman sighs.

“I appreciate your gesture of good will, Atali daughter of Daluun. And I hope you do not let this idiot colour your outlook. All hunters need the assistance of your kind. The Bastard Breed cannot be properly fought without such assistance.” She smiles slightly.

“Kursonn, you fool no one.” Yalith spoke again, his nerve seeming to have returned. “The only reason you pretend to condone this garbage is hope that you can raise your status with either her or Variaeth. Fuck knows you’ve known his bed often enou...”

One of the stone knives at his throat interrupted that line of thought. “Do not test me again Yalith. I can do much worse than just kill you. You’re a valuable hunter, but you’re only human like I am... you CAN be replaced.”

There is hate in the look he gave her, pure and distilled. The others murmur, but seem to side with the hunter woman.

“Now. I suppose that you wanted to ask us something?” She smiles to you, even as the knife of flint in her hand stays tightly gripped.

“I wanted to know some more about hunting Bastards... I want to be proactive in doing it once I leave. It’s the only way I’m going to get strong enough to honour you all.” There is a sincerity in your voice which surprises you. Even in the face of the other glaring man, you still feel a sense of devotion to them.

“Hah, well, I guess some trade secrets are in order then.” Kursonn smiles once more, her eyes flickering between you and her companions. There is some decent, but not enough to quiet her.

“Now look. Some things to remember, Bastards... no two are ever going to be perfectly the same. Even though we may call some of them the same species, no two of them will ever have the exact same capabilities.” She begins, lecturing you on some of the more advanced basics. “It’s easy for the common folk to group things together so they know the most common threats particular species will pose, but even then you could have a Hydra who’s been eating nothing but Attoli, and suddenly it’s throwing darkness bolts and spreading shadows all over the place. Or Megaarix which has been chowing down on anything it can get it’s teeth on, and has tentacles, attraction toxins, metal skin, frost breath and all manner of other mutations.”

You listen intently even as she pauses.

“In a way they are just like the Lineage. Which isn’t really surprising if you think about it. Still... that’s just the most basic stuff...”

She would continue on for at least another hour, comparing the virtues of different types of common species and some of the more uncommon ones, as well as their usual food preferences.

One thing which would come to mind as truly handy was the note of a place not too far from village, about a day’s walk or so, which served as a watering hole for many creatures, including the occasional Bastard. It was in fact the very place where they’d caught the roaming Hydra, a young one it seemed, no special abilities beyond its insane healing ability. Getting something out there was a bit chancy though.

There also seemed to be a cavern where a fairly strong Bastard slept, a bear sized beast known as a Rax, the only reason it hadn’t been cleared out as yet was because it was not exactly an active bastard, waking in bouts, months apart to grab a single item of prey then go back to sleep. Strong, but it tended to ignore anything which didn’t bother it directly.

And another whom the hunters meant to deal with soon, out further into where the forest gave way to outright jungle, nearly 3 days walk from here, it was a fast beast, a Plunderer. The size of a wolf and standing upright like a man, the Plunderer was still too young to have picked up many other abilities from the local Bastards, but was steadily eating its way into a growth spurt all on its own. It seemed focused on wind using abilities and used its huge scythe claws to fight.

You soak up her words studiously, trying hard to put the earlier incident out of your mind until together you all come to a suitable conclusion.

But you note uncomfortably, that the Mystic never moved from where he’d been watching everything from the start.




<{=(--------------------------------)=}>



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QlqqhzLVFo&spfreload=1


Still unclad, you walk your way home.

You hadn’t seen your parents since the ordeal had begun, excitement at your being chosen combined with long nights spent in the wilds without supervision had made you lax in keeping up with your mother and father.

Not like you father ever cared much to look at you.

Still... You’re different now. You’d never be the child, the young woman, which you were. Once you leave, you won’t really be theirs anymore, nor the tribe’s. The Lineage has gripped you tightly. But for tonight… you’d like to remember that child with them.