Ciarra The Cold

Finally feeling clean, or as clean as possible without soap, I leaned back and relaxed. Water flowed pleasantly around me. Cold water. The river was barely above freezing, and would be fatally cold to anyone else, but the strong current felt wonderful to me, especially flowing against the most intimate of places.

With a contented sigh I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, the scents from the forest carried a thousand little stories to my nose. A nearby fox's den hid a mother and her kits. A couple deer fed downstream, keeping a wary eye on me. When I was human, I felt helpless with my eyes closed, but I didn't feel that way anymore. I was almost as aware of my surroundings with my eyes closed as I was with them open.

Just a slight hint of unexpected emotional scents caught my attention. Greed. L.u.s.t. Anticipation. It wasn't that animals couldn't experience these emotions, but that their emotions were far less complicated. Someone was sneaking through the nearby brush. I had underestimated how useful empathic scenting was. Not only did I know someone was nearby, even with my eyes closed, but I also knew exactly where he was. I opened my eyes, being careful to avoid looking directly in his direction. Pretending to be unaware of his presence, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. The game-like nature of this world was so strange. He was a rogue. That's not a comment on his morals, it was his class. From my knowledge of the [Great Game], I knew all rogues had the abilities sneak and backstab. Rogues could also have other abilities depending on how powerful they were, but this one is far too low level for me to feel concerned.

After several minutes, he slipped away. That was strange. If he was really planning on leaving me alone, then why was he still filled with such anticipation? A scout? That would explain both what he was feeling, and how he was acting. I quietly climbed out of the pool, then hesitated, considering the best way to handle the situation.

Sometimes the simplest choice is the best one.

The scent trail left by the bandit was easy to follow, even without the tracking skill. I quietly snuck along after him. I wasn't skilled in sneaking, but I had another plan. I didn't try to approach him. With these senses I could stay deep in the woods and still see and hear what was going on.

A little while later I reached a clearing. At least two dozen people were in the camp, most of them were men, but there were a few women scattered around. Melee fighters, both warriors and rogues, made up most of the bandits, although I also saw a few rangers and archers. The group even included a wizard. The camp was in an uproar. The rogue that saw me relaxing in the river was having an excited conversation with their leader. I couldn't hear most of the conversation over the racket coming from everyone else gearing up, but I heard enough to know what they were planning. They assumed that I was part of some merchant caravan they planed on attacking, only they think I went ahead of the rest for a private bath. They planned on capturing me now, then attacking the caravan later tonight. They want to capture as many of us alive as possible, so that we can be sold as slaves. They only seemed to disagree about one thing. Who would get to **** me first.

Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

"I don't know what she is, but she isn't a coldblooded lizardkin. The river is nearly freezing, and dangerous for anyone. A lizardkin would die in minutes. She must be some kind of monster. Stupid. Idiots.", muttered an annoyed looking foxkin near my hiding place. All of the other bandits fit their classes. Strength for fighters. Intelligence for the wizard. Agility for the rogues. But, this foxkins highest stat was intelligence and her lowest stat was agility. So why was she a rogue? Very strange.

While I waited, I took the opportunity and used [S.e.x.u.a.l Insight] on all the women. Most were so vanilla it made my teeth ache. Is this how the average woman looks at s.e.x on this world? It seemed impossible. On the other hand, even in the modern world many female children are still taught that s.e.x is bad. It's really possible that they just don't know better. Only two of them had ever masturbated, and even they didn't interest me. The foxkin did. She only thought of s.e.x as a necessary price she paid for protection, which said a lot about her past life. However, buried deep inside her, so deep that she didn't have the slightest clue, was a kinky little bis.e.x.u.a.l submissive. She had the spark. I wanted to play with her.

They moved out, leaving the camp abandoned. I briefly considered following, but decided they would be back anyway. They didn't even put out the fire, and their stew smelled good. I hadn't eaten anything except for raw meat since regaining my memories, so I settled down for some stew and cheese while I waited for them to return.

Some time later arguing voices announced the return of the bandits. Only the foxkin seemed to be happy. The rest of them seem to be angry at the scout. The foxkin gasped when she saw me sitting on one of their wagons. Even with her reaction, it still took several seconds before the rest of them realized I was there.

I smiled in amus.e.m.e.nt at the shock on their faces. Their shock was quickly replaced by something else. I had never had anyone look at my nude body with anything more than disgust or pity before. So when the scent of l.u.s.t suddenly drowned out everything else, I couldn't help but laugh. What a wonderful change.

The moment was ruined when the foxkin raised her crossbow and shot me. The bolt hit me in my side, but my scales easily reflected it off into the woods. These are low level bandits, and unless one happens to be another champion, I was confident that I could have sat there all day and none of their attacks would even break my skin. Being overwhelmingly more powerful than the monsters I've fought didn't make me feel like this. Fighting monsters had felt unreal. Almost like a dream.

This felt real.

And I knew I wasn't in any danger at all.

Overpowered indeed.

I suddenly realized that I didn't need to worry about bigots or social norms. Between my looks, and being gay, people had turned my human past life into hell. But it doesn't matter if being a lesbian is considered acceptable here. What could they possibly do to me? Kill me? Hardly. Lock me up in prison? Ha! I could literally punch my way through a solid steel wall. I'm practically immune to both magic and mind control abilities. I was also nearly impossible to poison with well over 100 toughness. It's certainly possible for me to be defeated, and I might die before this is over, but not at the hands of some haughty bigot or some prude insulted because of a little PDA.

I wasn't going to let anyone tell me how to act, dress, or anything else.

It was liberating beyond words.

The leader screamed, "Hold fire!" to the group, then spun around and punched the foxkin in the face. She collapsed to her knees, blood ran from her nose. He yelled at her, "What the f.u.c.k do you think you're doing. If you damaged her, I'll kill you." He kicked her in the stomach several times, then turned back to me, leaving the foxkin curled up on the ground.

He motioned to his men, and they spread out around me, attempting to block my escape. I was quickly surrounded by the bandits, most of whom were male. They can't seem to stop staring. No one had ever looked at me with l.u.s.t before. Every single man wanted me. I loved it, and I loved my new body.

The foxkin, showing far more intelligence than anyone else, was already crawling for the trees. I popped the last bite of their hard cheese in my mouth and silently chewed. Waiting to see what they would do next.

Their leader swaggered towards me, reaching a hand out, as though he wanted to help me stand up. He said, "A pretty little lizardkin like you should have someone to protect her. I'm sure we can work something out, but only if you're willing to pay the price. If not, you can stay here with them." His voice was heavy with insincere concern. I imagined that he expected me to desperately plead for his protection? Try to earn it with my body? He smelled of deception and deceit. His protection would only last until he finished having his fun. It was worthless, even for those who are weak enough to actually need it.

I imagined some pretty young thing trying desperately to earn my protection. I keep my word, and I protect what's mine, but making her earn that protection would be a lot of fun. Just thinking about it leaves me dripping.

I locked gazes with the foxkin, reached down between my legs, and gently slid my fingers back and forth along my l.a.b.i.a. I imagined the foxkins head buried between my legs, desperate eyes staring into mine, knowing her life depended on how well she preformed. After all, she planned on selling me into slavery, and has already tried to kill me with her crossbow.

Suddenly, she turned and ran.

Finishing without her seemed like a waste, so I licked my own tangy-sweet honey from my fingers. I couldn't help but wonder what she would taste like.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, bringing my thoughts back to the present, and the bandits that surrounded me. I opened my eyes to see the bandit leader grinning eagerly. He unbuckled his pants with one hand, while holding me in place with the other. The scent of l.u.s.t is hardly surprising, but they also smell confused, especially the few women in the group. It wasn't like I did much before deciding to wait on my little foxkin. I guessed they really were that repressed.

I didn't realize I had been ignoring the bandit leader until he hauled back and punched me in the face. Just like he punched the foxkin. I guess he didn't like being ignored. It was time to show them just what they were up against anyway. I didn't bother dodging. My [Dragon Armor] is interesting. I feel the impact, but it's easy to resist, and no damage makes it through. While they stared at my undamaged face in shock, I grabbed the wrist he believed had me trapped with one hand and slowly tightened my grip.

I almost heard his understanding of the true power dynamic suddenly snap into place. He struggled uselessly. First he punched me repeatedly. I ignored it, and continued to slowly grind down. He tried to peel my fingers off his wrist, but I just kept slowly tightening until I shattered bone. He screamed and begged for mercy, so I slid off the wagon to put him out of his misery. I punched him in the face. Putting my back into it was a mistake. His head practically exploded under the impact. Blood, bone, and brains splattered everyone nearby.

They scattered.

Perhaps I shouldn't have done that until I killed more of them. Hunting them down wasn't going to be fun, but everyone that tried to make me a slave will die. With one possible exception. I unsheathed my talons and slashed, leaving two dying men, both clutching at the bloody ruin of their throats. So annoying. It would have just taken a couple minutes to finish them all if I had just stopped them from running. I'm not a tracker, but with my sense of smell, and the overpowering stench of their fear, I was sure I could find all of them.

It took several frustrating hours, but in the end I tracked down, killed, and ate all the bandits. Leaving one foxkin as the lone surviver. Unlike the others, I looked forward to hunting her down.

You have gained the skill [Tracking]

You have gained the skill [Unarmed Combat]

You have gained a level. (Note: Experience limitation of one level per event triggered.)