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From: eriadoriii@aol.comnospam (EriadorIII)
Subject: {ASSM} The Ring of Power Part Three
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Chapter Two: The Bandit's Treasure

	Mercyn quickly made his way out of the forest, trying to forget the sprite and
all that she offered.  More than a few times over the next few days he berated
himself for leaving that magical grove.  But he knew he was fooling himself. 
Until he found the Ring, he could have no peace.
	The glade was not far from the edge of the forest and a day and a half later,
he found the trees thinning.  Eventually he broke free of the cloying woods and
found himself at the top of a long hill that descended onto a grassy plain. 
Only a few miles away he could see smoke rising from a village.  The rumbling
of his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten a good meal in quite some
time.  He had lost his pack with his rations early in the fight with the
monster and the sprite had not managed to recover them.  So since fleeing the
glade he had subsisted on the berries and the nuts that he could manage to
scrounge.  He had debated a little hunting but had lamented the delay that
would cause.  His most urgent desire was to flee the forest.
	He took off down the hill towards the town, his stomach happily anticipating a
meal.  The town appeared peaceful from a distance and as he approached it did
nothing to disturb that notion.  In fact, the sheer quiet of the village
alerted him to an unknown danger.  By his guess, it had to be early afternoon,
a good time for the villagers to be tending the fields, but they lay untended. 
They were well kept for the most part, the fields kept in regular order and
well pruned of weeds and such, but nobody now tended them.  Mercyn could see
smoke in the distance, not enough for the village to be aflame but enough for a
large bonfire.  Perhaps they were having a festival, he told himself, but
somehow he doubted that fact.  His internal alarms were ringing with increased
urgency.
	He decided to approach the town carefully.  He pulled his sword from its
makeshift scabbard and quietly moved from one spot of concealment to another. 
A part of his mind laughed at him, calling him paranoid, but that paranoia had
saved his life before and he was not about to ignore it now.
	The village was strangely silent as he approached.  He was only a hundred feet
from the outermost building, crouched down in a field of corn.  If there was a
festival in progress he should be able to hear the sounds of merriment by now. 

Pausing for a moment he took in the lay of the land.  A ring of buildings made
up the outermost part of the town.  Each was a single-story tall with a flat
roof and Mercyn guessed that they were the private dwellings of the people who
tended the fields.  The inner ring of buildings was also single-story but these
had pointed roofs.  He guessed that the more wealthy villagers lived here.  The
smoke seemed to issue from a clearing inside the innermost buildings.
              He watched the village from the fields for almost half an hour
and saw no movement and neither heard any sounds from the village or saw any
movement.  He was nearly convinced it was abandoned, despite the evidence of
the fields, when he saw movement atop one of the buildings.
              Mercyn held his breath and watched as a man stood atop one of the
outer ring of buildings and stretched.  Apparently he had been asleep and was
only now waking up.  He wore a mismatch of odd clothing, as if he had raided a
tailor and grabbed the first set of clothes he could find.  The man picked up a
spear that rested next to him and then sat on the edge of the building, spear
across his lap.  With his legs idly kicking in the wind, the man proceeded to
gaze out over the fields.
              Mercyn slowly drew back deeper into the fields, being careful not
to draw the sentry's attention.  He sat down and thought about the situation. 
The prudent thing would be to circle the village and move on.  But his
curiosity was peaked.  The fields were well tended which meant that whatever
happened in this place had happened recently.  His curiosity won out over good
sense and he resolved to wait until night to enter the village.  Just as his
paranoia had frequently saved his life, his curiosity had frequently put that
life in danger.  Not for the first time, Mercyn cursed the duality of his
nature.
             When dusk descended and the sun began to go down behind the forest
he began to creep towards the village.  The sentry was facing west so the
setting sun was in his eyes, providing Mercyn with an advantage.  Slowly and
quietly he crept through the fields until he came to the clearing between the
outer buildings and the fields.  He held his breath and waited for the sentry's
attention to wander away and then he dashed for the shadows of the nearest
building.
              He pressed against the side of the building, away from the sight
of the sentry.  He forced his breathing to remain shallow, even though they
ached to take a deep breath.  He waited silently, listening for the signs that
he had been seen and an alarm had been raised.  When nothing happened he
allowed his lungs to take in the air they needed and calmed his beating heart. 
The easy part was over.
              Taking care to spot any other sentries, he crept through the
outer ring of buildings and made his way towards the center of the village. 
When he reached the buildings of the inner ring he began to hear the sounds of
life.  Laughter floated towards him, the loud raucous laughter of soldiers. 
Smells also began to invade his body, the smells of burning wood and the smells
of cooking food.  He crept between the buildings until he could see the village
center.
              A large bonfire had been erected.  Mercyn could make out the
shapes of burning furniture in the flames and another stack of destroyed
furniture, this pile not burning, lay off to the side.  Not far from the fire a
dozen men sat around another, smaller fire.  Over this fire they turned a small
spit covered with sizzling meat.  The men in the circle would occasionally
laugh and reach over and tear a chunk of meat off the spit.  Often the juices
would fall into the fire, causing a momentary flare of flames that would reach
up and lick out at the man grabbing the meat.  His companions would laugh, as
the man would quickly pull his burnt hand back with an exclamation of pain.
Each of these men wore the same type of mismatched clothing as the sentry. 
Mercyn now guessed that they were the raided remnants of the villager's
wardrobes.  But unlike the sentry some of these men carried swords, though
several also had spears lying next to them.
              The circle seemed to be focused on a very large man whose back
was to Mercyn.  His laughter did not come often but when it did it was loud and
booming.  Frequently the men would look towards the big man after issuing a
particularly fine jest, hoping to receive the big man's approval in the form of
that booming laugh.  When they did, their smile deepened and their sense of
self increased.
              Next to the big man a woman sat quietly, no food in her hands and
no laughter issuing from her mouth.  Her long black hair was ragged and dirty
as were the remnants of the rags she wore.  She never met the eyes of the men
in the circle but often they would aim a jest her way, many of them of a very
suggestive nature.  Only one man tried to touch her and when he tried the big
man slapped him with his huge hand sending the man flying backwards and setting
the others to laughing even harder.
              Mercyn used the shadows of the flame and the little cover
provided by the carts left abandoned in the village to creep closer to the
circle of men.  When he was close enough to discern the entire conversation,
the big man stood up, dragging the woman to her feet alongside him.
              "Now it is your turn, bitch," his voice was like the booming of
thunder as he cuffed the woman across the face.  "I have waited long enough and
my men have shown enough patience."
              The woman began to cry as he tore the remnants of her clothes
from her body.  Her figure was a sight to behold as her alabaster skin blazed
in the light of the bonfire.  Her hands hung dejected at her side, resigned to
her fate as the men avidly watched.  Her breasts were large but still firm. 
Her torso tapered to a tiny waist and then flared out to meet a perfect set of
hips.  Her pubic area was bare of hair and the lips of her sex were visible to
everyone.  Her legs were long and graceful, showing the strength of exertion
matched with the softness and the languor of womanhood.
              The big man seemed unaffected by the sight, though his men had
stopped their jeering insults and were watching with baited breath.  He roughly
grabbed one of her breasts and pinched the nipple hard.  The woman grimaced in
pain as the man twisted the nipple cruelly.  Then he grabbed her by the hair
and turned her around, pushing her up against a nearby table.  He pushed her
face into the wood with one and then began to fiddle with his breeches with the
other.
              As the man prepared to rape the woman Mercyn reached his breaking
point, he stepped from the shadows and into the light of the bonfire.
             "Step away from the woman," he commanded the big man, focusing a
good part of his latent anger into that command.  "Now."
             The men in the circle were stunned by this new arrival.  More than
a few of them looked towards the big man, waiting for his lead.
              The big man turned towards Mercyn and glared at him.  He still
held the woman's hair and pulled her to a standing position next to him. 
Mercyn could see blood leaking from the woman's nose.
               "Who the fuck are you?"  the big man boomed out angrily. 
Reacting to his voice, the other men quickly jumped to their feet and drew
their weapons.
               "I told you to step away from the woman," Mercyn kept his voice
cool and calm, even as his blood started to race.  Twelve on one odds were long
and would probably result in his death but he was too far into it to fall back
now.  These men were like a pack of wolves and if he showed weakness now they
would attack without mercy.
              "And are you going to make me, little man?"  The other men
laughed quietly.  Mercyn was a big man in his own right but the other man
dwarfed him.  Over seven feet tall, the man's shoulders were as wide as an ox
and Mercyn did not doubt they held the strength of an ox also.
              "You are surrounded by my best archers and at a signal from me
they will cut you down," the bluff sounded bad as it rolled off his lips but he
had no choice but to continue the lie.  "I suggest you put away your weapons. 
All of them."  He waved the tip of his sword at the man's crotch, where his
breeches had come undone and an immense cock stuck out the opening, still
aroused.  The jest brought a snicker from one of the men, but at a glare from
the big man it was quieted.
              Apparently the big man could see through the bluff.  "I don't
believe you.  I think you are alone, little man."
              No sooner had the words left his mouth when an arrow erupted from
darkness and pierced a man's throat, followed quickly by another that took
another man in the eye.
              Mercyn was as stunned as much as the other men.  Confusing
thoughts rapidly surged through his brain and he had a difficult time not
searching the darkness for his mysterious benefactor.
              The reactions of the other men were varied.  About half threw
their weapons down and fled into the darkness.  The others charged Mercyn.  Two
more dropped before they reached him, arrows through their necks.  Mercyn had
enough time to see the big man toss the girl aside and grab a huge,
double-bladed axe.  Then the remaining four men were nearly on him. 
              Whenever he entered battle, a strange sense of detachment came
over Mercyn.  Through this detachment he was able to watch the battle as if
from a distance and in slow motion.  He was able to channel his anger into
battle fury and he reacted to his opponents with a clarity and a swiftness that
belied his size.  He hoped that one day he could channel the last vestiges of
his rage into that battle fury.  He knew that that moment would probably mean
his death, but he would welcome respite from the fury that burned his soul. 
But he knew that moment was far in the future as his soul held deep reserves of
anger and pain.
              The first man to reach him carried a sword that Mercyn
effortlessly beat aside, altering the direction of the man's charge.  With an
out flung foot, he tripped the man and sent him sprawling.  The second man had
a spear and he pulled up short of the warrior and stabbed past his sword. 
Simultaneously, a third man lunged with a short sword, aiming for Mercyn's
exposed side.  Mercyn dodged to the side of the incoming spear and grabbed it
behind the head.  His sword flicked out and parried the blow of the shorter
sword.  He pulled on the spear, pulling the man wielding the spear into the
path of the fourth man, fouling his charge.
He let go of the spear and struck out at the man with the short sword, raking
his sword along the side of the man's face.  Blood seeped into the other man's
eyes blinding him to the follow up thrust that took him through the heart.
              The first attacker was now scrambling to his feet behind Mercyn
but, just as he was prepared to turn and deal with the attacker, Mercyn heard a
small hiss, a sick thud and then an intake of breath from the man behind him. 
Another thud sounded as the man's body hit the ground.
              Another arrow took one of the remaining two attackers in the
chest, dropping him out of the fight.  The remaining attacker started to lose
his resolve as his friends dropped dead around him.  He looked wide-eyed at
Mercyn and then turned to flee into the darkness.  He had taken only a few
steps when the big man's axe severed his head from his shoulders.
             "Coward," hissed the big man as he approached Mercyn, his giant
axe clutched in both hands.
             The big man swung a massive blow at Mercyn.  The blow would easily
have cut him in half but Mercyn ducked under the wild swing and prepared a
vicious counter-thrust.  But the big man was amazingly quick and strong.  With
a twist of his wrists and a fair amount of straining muscle he reversed the
path of his swing and brought his axe hammering back at Mercyn.
Mercyn nearly saw the move too late.  Desperately he flung his sword up to ward
the blow.   His blade encountered the metal bound shaft of the axe.  The
screech of metal on metal sounded in the night as both blade and axe held firm
under the force of the blow.  
             The strength behind the backhanded blow stunned Mercyn and he was
forced backwards and off-balance.  Using a trick he had learned long ago, he
used the momentum of the blow to launch him into a backward somersault, away
from the killing swings of that giant axe.  The poor side effect of the move
was that he lost his handle on his sword and the blade skittered away from him.
 He quickly regained his balance and warily watched the big man stand over his
fallen sword.
             The big man laughed when Mercyn pulled his dagger free from his
belt.  "Put the toothpick away, little man.  You might hurt yourself."  With
that he launched another wild swing at the warrior.  Instead of dodging the
swing Mercyn leaped directly into the man, inside the radius of his swing.  He
stabbed for the man's throat but the big man's strong arms, still locked in
swinging his giant axe, buffeted him in the side of the head and drove his
strike wide, managing to only cut a furrow in the big man's shoulder.  By the
time he aimed a second strike the big man had discarded his axe and with one
hand he grabbed the arm with the dagger, halting the strike.  The other hand
wrapped around Mercyn and the mighty arm pulled the warrior in against his
chest, crushing the life from him.
              Mercyn felt the air being forced out of his lungs as he struggled
to push the dagger into the big man's face.  The strength of the giant was
amazing and Mercyn was unable to advance the knife any further.  The big man's
other arm constricted further and Mercyn could feel the pressure in his chest
as his lungs and his bones cried out for relief.  A lack of air sapped at his
strength as the hold tightened.  Then the big man let out a loud scream of
agony and his grip on the arm with the dagger slackened.   Summoning a reserve
of strength, Mercyn broke the man's hold and drove his dagger deep into the
man's ear.
              As the big man crumpled to the ground Mercyn saw the blade of his
sword sticking out of the big man's lower back.   A few feet away, the woman
was curled into a ball on the ground, spattered with the big man's blood and
crying.  When she saw Mercyn standing there she threw herself into his arms.
              He cringed in pain as she wrapped her arms around his torso.
"Careful," he admonished her.  Her grip slackened but her crying continued as
she pressed her face against his chest.
              Out of the darkness another figure slowly emerged this one
carrying a bow.  His mysterious benefactor turned out to be a woman.  Tall,
over six feet, she was thin and athletic with small, pert breasts that were
hidden by her brown tunic.  She moved with an athletic grace that pulled
Mercyn's gaze to her long, willowy legs.  Her trousers were also brown and
clung to her body as the moved.  Her skin was nearly as fair as the woman he
now clutched in his arms was, but her hair was a deep yellow and cut short,
barely covering her pointed ears.  His benefactor was an elf.  An extremely
attractive elf.
              "Who are you?"  he asked the newcomer.
              "My name is Erin and you're welcome," she answered a sarcastic
smile lighting up her face.  Her blue eyes sparkled in the light of the
bonfire.
              "Thank you, Erin, your help was quite timely.  My name is
Mercyn."
              The raven-haired woman in his arms slowed her crying and looked
at the elf.  When she saw the lithe figure before them, her grip tightened a
little around the man, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to reassure.
              "And what is your name, little treasure," the elf chuckled as she
addressed the woman.
	"M-my name is Liselle," her voice was quiet as her crying began to abate.
              "Nice to meet you, Liselle," Mercyn whispered soothingly.  "You
are safe now."
              Mercyn was surprised when the woman pushed herself away from him
angrily.
              "Of course I am safe now," she lectured the man angrily.  "And so
are you thanks to me.  Honestly, why the hell did you attack all these men by
yourself?  Are you stupid?"
              Mercyn was stunned at the sight of the naked woman glaring at
him, her hands on her hips.  Behind him Erin laughed.  "I think I agree with
you, little sister.  He may be stupid."
              Liselle turned her glare at the elf and then rapidly her anger
faded.  A worried look crossed her face as she looked from Erin to Mercyn. 
Suddenly she flung herself back into the man's arms, nestling herself against
his chest and clinging to him possessively.
              "I hate to break up the moment, but perhaps we should leave
before the others return," the elf pointed out, mirth in her voice.
              Mercyn unwrapped the woman from his torso and held her at arm
length.  "You are right, we should leave now."
              "Perhaps, dear Liselle, you should find some clothing," Erin
chuckled.  "Our poor warrior appears distracted."
              Liselle's eyes wandered to the swollen bulge in his trousers and
then she blushed furiously.  She seemed to suddenly become aware of her nudity
and hastily looked around for something to wear.  She began to move towards a
nearby building when she stopped.  She looked back at the elf and the warrior,
moving her eyes from one to the other, indecision etched on her face.  Suddenly
she made up her mind and she ran towards the building.
             Mercyn watched her run, the bouncing of her full breasts and the
swaying of her buttocks doing nothing to relieve his discomfort.
             "One question, elf," he addressed the figure behind him.  "Why
didn't you shoot the giant?"
             Mercyn could hear the smirk that lit her face as she replied.  "Oh
I thought you should get to have a little fun, too."

             Several hours later the three of them had moved far away from
village and had set up camp in a small copse of trees.   A small stream had
provided them the opportunity to clean up.  Mercyn's body had stopped aching
from the big man's exuberant hug and Liselle's nose had proven to be a minor
injury.   The girl also held a variety of other bruises, mostly minor.  Most of
all she appeared to be tired.  Mercyn knew what she felt as exhaustion was
creeping up on him also. Erin volunteered for first watch and Mercyn, too tired
to valiantly disagree, bedded down against a tree, quickly drifting into sleep.
             He was awoken sometime later by warmth on his cock.  He opened his
eyes and met the gaze of Liselle as she slowly bobbed up and down on his penis.
 He was already hard and the raven-haired beauty was managing to take the whole
thing into her throat.  With each downstroke her tongue would caress the staff
of his penis and as she withdrew she applied suction to his cock, weaving a web
of friction and sensation through his groin.  One of her hands played with his
testicles, cradling them gently while the other hand crept beneath him and
played with entrance to his anus.  He did not know how to react as a finger
probed at his opening and then slid past the tight muscles at the entrance.  He
stiffened as the finger entered, and Liselle felt the change.  She increased
her pace on his cock, now bobbing her head wildly, distracting him from the
intruding digit.  Slowly the tension released and strange warmth began to
emanate from his anus.  Combined with the suction on his cock, he surrendered
himself to the pleasure and he could feel his release approaching.
             Unbeknownst to the couple, another set of eyes watched them.  The
elf was instantly aware of when the woman approached the man.  She watched as
Liselle worked her ministrations on the warrior.  Liselle pulled her mouth off
of Mercyn's cock and pulled him on top of her.
             "Are you sure?"  Erin could hear the man's whispered question.
             "Yes," came the defiant answer.  "What they tried to take from me
by force, I now give to you by choice."
             Liselle grabbed hold of Mercyn's cock and guided it to the moist
target between her legs.  The eroticism of the moment was getting to the elf as
she watched.  One of her hands crept to her breasts, gently caressing the
mounds through her tunic.  Her fingers traced the outline of her nipples,
sending tingles shooting through her chest.
             Mercyn paused as he entered the woman.  He eased inside her and
soon encountered a barrier.  With amazement he realized that Liselle was a
virgin.  He supposed she was still young enough that this should not be too
much of a shock, but her expertise with her mouth had led him to believe that
she was much more experienced.
             Liselle gazed into his eyes and pulled at his shoulders with his
hands, urging him on.  Remembering his first time he paused and kissed the
woman.  Her mouth seemed to draw him in, her breath and her tongue exploring
the depths of his mouth.  He pulled back a little inside her and then quickly
stabbed forward, breaking her maidenhead and plunging deep inside her.  She
gasped in pain as he broke through, but then her urgency returned and she
wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper inside.
             In the shadows Erin's hand had crept beneath her trousers and was
rubbing gently across her clitoris.  As she watched the woman's alabaster legs
encircle the man's waist her free hand quickly untied the front of her
trousers.  She pulled them down to allow more intimate access to her private
parts.  She settled back as Mercyn began to make deep thrusts into Liselle. 
The woman's moans issued into the night and drifted to the elf's ears.  
Watching the couple make love, the elf slipped two fingers inside herself as
her other hand continued to stroke her clit.
             Liselle tightened the grip of her thighs on the man's waist as he
continued to thrust inside her.  The cock rubbed across her clitoris as it
penetrated her depths.  The feeling of the thrusting hardness combined with the
urgent friction across her clitoris shortly drove the woman toward orgasm.  As
her pleasure mounted her nails dug into the man's back.  The feelings reached a
peak and then leveled off.  Liselle could feel her orgasm just moments away,
but ever far away.  She dug her nails in deeper and flailed her heels against
the man's buttocks.  A loud moan of aching lust burst from her mouth.
             "Harder, harder, harder."
             She repeated the chant as Mercyn, nearly lost in his own pleasure,
increased his pace, moving faster and deeper, lunging harder inside her.  
Liselle soon found her pleasure mounting once more until finally she felt it
push over the barrier and the waves of pleasure descended over her.  She lost
all sense of self as relief rushed through her and she yelled her release.
             Mercyn could feel the pulsing of the muscles inside Liselle.  She
was already extremely tight, her womanhood covering his cock like a glove. 
When the muscles began to spasm, he was quickly sent over the edge and his
orgasm hit, spilling his seed deep inside the woman's womb.  He held himself
still as the orgasm subsided, spent inside the satisfied woman.  He lowered his
body and pressed it against the warm body beneath him.  Liselle reached out
with her tongue and gently flicked at his ear, caressing the curve of the ear
and drawing the lobe into her sucking mouth.
             Both of them were oblivious to the sounds of moans from the trees
nearby.  Deep in the shadows Erin replayed the last moments in her mind
savoring the woman's words and moans in her head.  Imagining it was she beneath
the man and imagining that the three fingers that plunged in and out of her
vagina was his cock.  Her desire rose and her body tensed as her orgasm
approached.  She rubbed herself with more urgency as the sensation grew.  She
shoved her hand deeper and held it there as her release crashed through her
body.  The surging sensations rushed through her body, slowly releasing her
muscles into a state of relaxation.  She slumped back against the tree,
exhausted and she wiped the sweat from her brow, though she only managed to
make a bigger mess as her hand was soaked in her own juices.  She smiled to
herself and then closed her eyes in satisfaction.

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