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Jungle Heat

• Chapter 3 of the Legends of the DragonRider

Blake's wings beat heavily as he sought to gain a bit more altitude. Normally, the thermal updrafts from the warm, moist jungle beneath would've been enough to carry him high, but he was more heavily-loaded than usual. Having three people on his back still wasn't something he was used to - and on this trip, his saddlebags were rather heavily loaded too. He halfway wanted to complain about the exertion he was being put through - he was hardly a packhorse, after all! - but he just KNEW that Anitra would have something pithy to say in response, probably about him getting out of shape since they settled down in the Utopia. And, well, maybe she'd have a point - it wasn't as if he didn't get quite a bit of exercise still (the dragonesses saw to that), but compared to before...

It had been hard days, back then. Living out of whatever caves could be found, or just camping in some forest clearing or on the leewards side of a hill whenever they needed a rest... and staying on the move the rest of the time, flying from place to place, looking for lost and hidden locations using a bunch of old maps sometimes gravely lacking in details... hard, yes, but such a thrill! Though, in a way, what he missed the most from those days was having such a clear_purpose_. Find a tablet-fragment, or find something they needed to get the next tablet-fragment... then on to the next one, and the next one, all with the final goal of reaching the Dragon Utopia.

And certainly, it had proved a worthy goal... but it had left him with little to aspire to. Despite his best efforts, he still couldn't quite grasp the great purpose that the elders of the Utopia were working towards, now that he and Anitra had thrown open the gates to their gilded prison. Inviting in lesser races, conferring with sages and wizards... well, sending secret emissaries to dragonhomes, he could understand. Trying to change their attitude towards Black Dragons, bit by bit, was a cause with clear and obvious advantages... it would stop others from ending up like him. From having their first memories be a look of horror on their parents' faces. From finding themselves alone in the wilderness before their wings had dried, forced to kill to survive. And he'd been lucky. He'd found Inferand, and felt... friendship, and kinship, if not the closeness of true family or society, the way he saw it on the hatchlings in the Dragon Utopia.

And of course, then there was Anitra... who'd taught him of love. There weren't many black dragons who got lucky enough to run across a DragonRider, either - as evidenced by the fact that there'd never been two in residence at the Utopia at any one time. There had, however, often been long periods where there weren't any So yes, anything that might help others avoid the hell that had been his childhood - as an outcast, hated and feared, forced to fight and kill from the moment he broke his shell just to survive - was something he could get entirely behind. But there was obviously a lot more going on, something to do with the ideas of that idealistic loon, Lutan, despite him apparently being dead for several thousand years... and he just couldn't wrap his head around it all. So he sat through the meetings, nodded his head and tried to look stern and thoughtful, and mostly just supported whatever ol' Elecrastor was supporting - _he_didn't seem to have any trouble keeping it all straight, after all.

Well, either way, the upshot of it all was that he didn't feel like he had much of a... purpose at the Utopia. Everyone still called him a hero, which was nice, but all he did was sit in those meetings and nod, and otherwise just... live the easy life. Eat and drink and mate, with Anitra or with Melora or with the many, many interested females of the Utopia. It never really got old, of course... there were always new things to try, new kinks to explore, especially with the treasure-trove of perverted spells they'd recovered from Drake the Obscene's library - not that there wasn't fun to be had of a more mundane sort, now and then.

The Utopia was, after all, seeing a steadily-increasing amount of immigration - dragons from conventional dragonhomes who agreed with the Utopia's philosophy (whatever that was) flocked to its sanctuary, and found themselves submerged in a rather different culture than what they were used to... particularly with regards to black dragons. Some adapted better than others. And of particular interest (at least to him) were the young female dragons who moved in, made friends with the local dragonesses, and then found themselves drawn into the habitual pass-time of their new friends... namely, wooing him. He'd found lots of enjoyment in taking mating-flights (and many, many other entertainments) with dragonesses who outright idolized him, but there was a whole 'nother thrill in doing it with someone who'd been brought up to think of black dragons as dangerous, corrupted abominations. The way shallowly-buried fear and hatred mingled with lust and desire - and perhaps just a shade of peer pressure - was an enticing cocktail... and they certainly seemed to get into it too, once things got underway. Apparently, the forbidden thrill of indulging in something 'taboo' was fairly universal.

Regardless, even the days and nights of hedonistic excess stated to get dull after a while. He didn't really share Anitra's burning curiosity about the origin of the black dragons, or of the DragonRiders - way he saw it, it really didn't matter much. He was who he was, and she was who she was, and he loved her. That was the important thing, and nothing they might discover about the dim past could change that. Still, the motivation of curiosity was one he could understand, and he was more than happy to go along with her quest - both because he knew it made her happy, and because it made him feel like he was_doing_ something. He had a target, a goal, a purpose!

All of which led back to him being unwilling to complain about his current workload. As Anitra had put it, bringing along a pair of servants would make them appear as important, even noble_individuals to the people of Ganarãjya, which should make it easier to deal with them. Same thing went for the saddlebags stuffed full of gold, gems, and other valuable gifts that they could use to grease palms as necessary. And, honestly, he didn't _really mind having Direza and Melora along for the ride - certainly, he couldn't argue that they hadn't splendidly managed the tasks he and Anitra had set before them during their trip to Mirage City... and thus earned the reward of being brought along on this one.

He hadn't exactly been holding back when he assigned Melora her task, either. The way she'd skated through her previous assignment had made him feel like he should turn it up a notch, and besides, he wouldn't mind a chance to 'punish' her creatively - especially after watching Anitra punish Direza for her failure back then. So after some thinking, he'd come up with something he'd figured would push even Melora's heavy-duty masochism to the limits, and commissioned a new version of the copper-inlaid 'lightning-harness' he'd often amused himself by making her wear, from one of the Utopia's craftsmen.

It largely resembled the old one - a leather harness holding three dildos of varying size in place, in her urethra, pussy and asshole. In this one, however, the fastenings had been made quite a bit bigger, ensuring that it could be mounted with a set of phallic intruders that would stretch even the highly-flexible horse-girl to the limit. In fact, he'd found it necessary to have the dildos themselves made with a wooden core rather than solid copper, just to prevent them from getting too heavy for the leather to handle. The key difference, however, was a small gap right above the smallest of the dildos - and required some real, fine-fingered craftsmanship. The tiny, copper-lined hole had an equally-tiny latch at the top, and once the harness had been strapped onto Melora, she - on his orders- pulled her clitoral hood back through the gap, letting the tiny, nerve-rich nub itself fall into the hole, whereafter she pushed down the latch and locked it into place. The hood was thus kept back, and her clit held tightly in the small hole, exposing it to the air.

That, by itself, was interesting enough - for starters, every shift of the tight leather harness, backed by the sheer inertia of the still-heavy copper dildos, would pull unpleasantly at her exposed clit, and the tight ring it was caught in would function as the feminine equivalent of a cock-ring, forcing it to stay erect and highly sensitive. Something she'd had plenty of opportunity to appreciate since, before they left for Mirage City, he had locked her into it - sealing both the harness itself and the tiny latch that held her clit tight, with his magic. Another change in this version of the harness, after all, was that any of the three dildos could be detached from the harness and pulled out, leaving behind a large gap in the leather framework, and thus allowing Melora to empty her belly and bladder alike without ever quite removing the harness.

All of which tied into the all-important, magical aspect of the construct... after all, without a spark of his lightning-magic, the whole thing was just an inert lump of leather and copper. And he had crafted a particularly intricate bit of spellwork for it on this occasion - his creativity on the subject having broadened significantly since he started learning spells from the Library of the Obscene. This particular lightning-spell was largely low-key - it would send painful shocks through one of the three dildos every few hours, with the exact interval being entirely chaotic, and thus would serve to keep her on her toes without disrupting her ability to, say, sleep or eat too much.

But if one of the three dildos were removed... it would go into overdrive, sending repeated bursts of lightning through the remaining two, while simultaneously arching electricity through the copper ring surrounding her clit. All by itself, he figured that would probably help encourage her to accelerate her visits to the toilet. But on top of that, he'd also left her with the same orders at last time - to service with her body any dragon that came to her door. He hadn't invited nearly as many male dragons to avail themselves to her services as last time, but she still had at least a couple of visitors every day, all of whom required her to remove one of the dildos for the duration.

In this case, however, he had apparently somewhat outsmarted himself. Upon returning from Mirage City, he'd gone to chat with the male dragons that had visited her in his absence - and found that not only did they report one-hundred-percent satisfaction, they also admitted that she'd brought them off faster than they'd ever experienced before... due to constant shuddering, moaning, and particularly the powerful muscular contractions that would constantly flash through whichever orifice they'd picked. Still, while he had hoped to trot out a few inventive punishments - and in that, been foiled - he had to admit that he'd rather enjoyed her wide-eyed delight - and the erotic shudder that went through her curvaceous body - when he complimented her on a job well done. Indeed, from the looks of it, she'd nearly cum outright when he ran a talon through her hair and said "Good girl!" Of course, she did cum several times afterwards, when he gave her the first part of her reward... despite the fact that she was still wearing the harness at that point. After all, having heard from the other guys, he just had to sample those electrically-induced contractions for himself...

Well, regardless, she'd earned this chance to go traveling with him and Anitra again. As had Direza, apparently, though he wasn't sure exactly what she'd been doing during their absence - just that she'd looked thoroughly bedraggled by the time they returned, and just as overjoyed as Melora upon being complimented (and rewarded) for her success at... whatever it was Anitra had ordered her to do while they were away. Hence why he now had THREE shapely women lined up on his back rather than the usual one. Anitra had talked about having his saddle modified to have proper seating for three - or even just getting a proper dragon-saddle custom-made from the ground up, seeing as the one he was wearing now really wasn't anything other than a half-professionally-modified, half-jury-rigged horse-saddle. Still, both of them were somewhat reluctant to do that - the old saddle had been worn smooth and comfortable by now, and carried many memories of their journeys... not to mention a faint, yet undeniable scent of female arousal, from all the time Anitra's juices had soaked into the leather.

Besides, the current arrangement worked well enough. Direza was nestled in Anitra's embrace, clearly overjoyed - and more than a bit aroused, as the pommel dug into her crotch. Meanwhile, Melora was riding behind them, clinging to Anitra's waist... and sitting behind the saddle, with his back-spines digging into her (naturally naked) pussy underneath the armored skirt she wore. Considering the wetness he could feel on his back-scales, she was clearly enjoying the ruthless ride in her own little masochistic way. He could feel her twitch every time he beat his wings, thus sending a ripple back along his spine...

Still, entertaining though that was, it was about time for everyone to put their game-faces on. He could see it in the distance - like a many-peaked mountain built from clay bricks, rising from the jungle... and behind it, an even greater peak that gleamed like polished marble. Akshardham - the political AND spiritual capital of Ganarãjya, and thus home to both the Maharajah of Ganarãjya and the High Priesthood of Sargonnas. His sharp ears were picking up the characteristic sounds of panic from that direction - shouting, running, doors being slammed - but it had an edge of discipline to it. He couldn't pick out the words at this distance, but many of the shouts had the authoritative timbre of command to them, and quite a bit of the running carried the rhythm of a double-time march. The Ganarãjyans were a warrior people, devoted to a god of fire, fury and vengeance. Hence why he had no plans to fly right into their capital, especially after they so clearly had received word of his impending arrival from outlying villages hidden beneath the jungle roof.

Giving the rising peaks of the city a wide berth, he swept around to the west of it, eyes peeled - there! A ribbon of more brown than blue, barely visible amidst the green. The river Mela, holy to the Ganarãjyans despite its rather muddy nature, and for good reason. Its steady flow of water (and quite a bit of rich silt) irrigated and fertilized their fields... which he could now begin to pick out of the surrounding greenery. Neat squares of brown and green, edged by swaying jungle-trees, and the occasional colorful, moving spot denoting a local peasant hard at work... with many of them suddenly moving a lot faster as he crested the treetops and came into their view, if only as a dark shape in the cloudless, sapphire-blue sky.

Far enough from the capital that there wouldn't be an immediate welcoming-committee from the Maharajah's elite guard - the Akharas - but still close enough to easily walk from there. More to the point, it was just about the only practical landing-site, unless he wanted to burn a new clearing in the forest somewhere. Granted, with how wet this jungle was, it was unlikely that he'd start a proper forest-fire even if he did so, but raining fire on their home would still make for 'a poor first impression', as Anitra had put it when they planned their trip. Especially since it was difficult even for his sharp senses to pick out some of the smaller villages hiding beneath the tall jungle-trees, ensuring that there always was a small risk that he'd wind up burning more than just trees. Which would make for a_really_ bad first impression.

A few minutes later, he backwinged to a halt and landed on a road that emerged from the nearby jungle to snake through the farmlands. Well, calling it a 'road' was, perhaps, overgenerous. It was mostly just a pair of wheel-ruts, presumably used to run the ox-carts that ferried the crops grown here back to the capital. There were no peasants in sight, all of them having fled into the jungle with remarkable speed, and combined with the hush that had fallen over the usually raucous jungle-birds with the appearance of a large predator such of himself, the area was almost spookily quiet, with only the buzzing of about ten billion mosquitoes breaking the silence.

Anitra slipped agilely down from his back, followed - somewhat more clumsily - by Direza and Melora... both of whom seemed to be standing a bit awkwardly as they returned to solid ground. He exchanged a smile with Anitra as she patted him on the neck - a loving gesture that had become a habit whenever she dismounted him, though he honestly couldn't remember when she'd started doing it - while the other two women saw to his saddlebags. Then Direza approached with a folded bundle of white fabric, prompting a slight grimace from Anitra as she started pulling on the garment. It was a dress she'd borrowed from the Utopia's collection of magically-fitted, timelessly fashionable clothes - made in a style called 'djellaba', apparently. Light and airy, with an attached hood that made it look somewhat like a robe, it was designed for hot environments - hence why she'd picked it out for the trip. Her normal outfit - the minimalistic suit of dragonscale armor - made her look dangerously voluptuous, while the dress instead gave her an aura of understated wealth and stylish beauty. Based on what their source back in the Utopia had said of Ganarãjyan social mores, it would go over a lot better than her leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination armor - which she would, of course, still be wearing underneath it.

Direza and Melora had dressed up from home, and thus didn't need to change. Direza was wearing one of her simple, midnight-black hooded robes, which fit just fine for her public persona as a lady-in-waiting for Anitra's 'wealthy noble'. It also made for a striking contrast with Anitra's white dress. Melora, meanwhile, was dressed to the nines in gleaming steel, sporting a custom-fitted breastplate with broad pauldrons, bracers, a skirt of flexible metal-plates reaching to her knees, full sabatons (specially designed to fit neatly around her hooves) and a sallet-style helmet with a chainmail collar covering the entirety of her neck and a colorful plume at the top. With, as previously noted, no underwear worn beneath the skirt. It was all brand-new, decorated with artistic crenelations and colorful accents, and largely bespoke - produced by the skilled craftsmen that had been adopted into the Dragon Utopia, and enchanted by a female Gold of his acquaintance, who had been... thoroughly compensated for her contribution.

Needless to say, it was of vastly higher quality than the simple, often inexpertly-modified gear Melora had used on her solo adventure to find him, as was the long, heavy glaive (razor-sharp and enchanted to boot) that went with it - and she'd just about exploded with delight when he presented it to her. Knowing her, though, it was probably not so much the joy of an adventurer being handed a superb set of gear, as the fact that it demonstrated his intention to bring her along on future adventures. In this case, it would do a fine job of making Melora look like a suitable bodyguard for a high-born lady - and hopefully distract any potential attackers from the fact that the body she was guarding was far more deadly than her own.

Direza, he knew, had gotten some gifts from Anitra, too - just less obvious, and less shiny. A light, well-oiled mithril mailshirt was flexing invisibly beneath her simple-yet-stylish cloak, which also hid the powerful magical foci hanging from a silver chain around her neck - bringing out and magnifying the remnants of the enormous, unholy might she once wielded as the High Priestess of Lolth. A pair of gem-inlaid bracelets were also concealed by the robe's long, voluminous sleeves - and charged with magic contributed by several of the Utopia's skilled Gold and Silver dragons. They would enable the slim Drow to unleash waves of destructive power at a moment's notice, without tapping into her own, limited supply of divine might.

Well, hopefully, it would all remain just a showpiece - this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission, not a fight. Never mind the fact that the Akharas stationed in Akshardham mostly likely would be more than a match for him in a straight-up fight, it was also notoriously difficult to extract holy secrets from the lips of _dead_priests. With that in mind, he nodded at the point where the path disappeared into the jungle's shade. "Best get going. I can hear soldiers approaching in the distance, and you'll have an easier time talking your way past them if I'm outta sight. I'll stay out of your way and inside telepathic range until you send the all-clear." Anitra nodded, smiles, and planted a quick kiss on his muzzle that sent a shiver running under his scales all the way back to the tip of his tail. Damned, but he loved her... and Akharas or no Akharas, if this 'diplomatic mission' went sour, he'd burn down the city of Akshardham and the entire goddamn jungle, whether to save her or avenge her...

Shaking off these dark thoughts, he gave a quick glance in Melora's direction, and she nodded sharply, understanding the wordless command in his gaze just fine. Even if her 'bodyguard' status was mostly for show, he still expected her to fight - to the death, if needs be - in order to protect Anitra. And she would do it, too - out of love for him, despite the fact that Anitra was the one who ensured that she could never hold the highest place in his heart. What tangled webs love weaves...

With that somewhat melancholic thought in mind, he spread his wings and leaped back into the air, clawing for altitude with far greater ease now. Not only did he have no passengers, the saddlebags loaded with gold, gems and other rich gifts were now slung over one of Melora's shoulders. Casting an eye around, he spotted some peaks - actual mountains, this time - rising out of the jungle some distance to the north. There, he figured, he should be able to land safely and wait for Anitra to charm the Maharajah into allowing him to land unmolested in the city. With luck, he might even find a cozy cave to nap in...

Anitra breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the jungle's shade. The path was narrow - clearly, some timing went into ensuring that no carts encountered one another going opposite ways - so the trees closed entirely above it, turning into more of a tunnel than a road. Around her, the jungle was starting to come alive again as Blake - and his predatory scent - drew further and further away. She shot a glance back at Direza, who was walking demurely two steps behind her and one to the side (with her other flank being guarded by Melora, who was putting on her best 'hard-bitten soldier' face, and showed no signs of being encumbered by her new armor or the large saddlebags slung over her shoulder.) Was the lithe elf in her black robe sweating as much as she was? If so, she gave no signs of it, even though - unlike Anitra - she was wearing a tunic underneath it.

The white dress she was wearing had been designed for the dry heat of the desert - it was supposed to be loose and airy, leaving space between the fabric and her skin for ventilation. In the humid heat of the jungle, it was less effective, and soon the fabric was clinging to her sweat-dewed curves. Fortunately, the fabric didn't seem to be the sort to go see-through when wet - not that she minded showing off, but she was supposed to keep the armor she was wearing underneath a secret. As it were, a keen eye could probably pick up the edges of the armor-plates, but she rather hoped that any such eyes would be distracted by other things.

Well, she'd find out soon enough. They'd walked for a while, by now, and even with the cawing of the jungle birds, she could pick up the tell-tale sounds of a military unit on the march. Clanking armor and jingling weapons, accompanied by rhythmic footfalls. Most likely, they'd been sent off from Akshardham when Blake descended towards the farmlands, and with the trees closing over their heads the whole way, they couldn't know for sure that he'd taken off again. She took another quick glance around at her two companions, reassuring herself that they were appropriately dressed and 'in character' for what came next.

The path was largely straight, curving slightly to the left as it headed towards the capital - which served their purpose in this case, ensuring that the squadron of heavily-armed soldiers now coming into view saw them well before they reached combat-range. Coming suddenly face-to-face with a group of jumpy elite soldiers when turning a sharp corner could have resulted in a bad response, but this way, the soldiers had plenty of time to ascertain that the three of them were alone, and carried no visible weapons other than Melora's glaive. The officer running at the front of the formation barked a quick order over his shoulder as the three of them continued to advance at an unchanged pace, as if the heavily-armed and battle-ready soldiers in front of them were of no consequence. At his command, half the squad stopped in their tracks, readying bows, while the rest continued to advance at a somewhat slower speed than before.

Anitra took her time studying the soldiers as she continued to walk steadily towards them, maintaining a haughty, slightly bored expression. All men, all tan-skinned, all heavily bearded, and all wearing orange turbans (albeit in a rather different style than the one popular in Mirage City). Gleaming scale-mail covered their chest, with light chainmail reaching down as sleeves and skirts, and curved swords belted at their waists. To her eyes, armor and weapons alike gleamed - but not with the lambent glow of magical enchantments. Rather, it was the clean light of divine blessing - the boon of Sargonnas, and solid proof that these were indeed the famous Akharas even before she spotted the steel bangles on the right wrist of each and every soldier, marks of their initiation and rank. As much warrior-monks as a conventional military force, their officers were usually outright Paladins of Sargonnas, wielding his divine might in addition to combat-skills earned through religious devotion to training and practice.

Finally, as they drew close, the officer - whose mail gleamed golden in the sunlight filtering down through the treetops - lifted a hand to signal the soldiers behind him to halt. Then, as Anitra and the other two continued to walk towards him, he called out brusquely: "This is the road to Akshardham, glorious capital of Ganarãjya , seat of the wise Maharajah Mãnava Dharmasãstra, holy city of the Divine Sargonnas! State your identities and your business." Giving him her best 'haughty' look - right down her nose - Anitra coldly replied. "I have no name to give a simple soldier - I have come here to bargain with the Maharajah, and carry priceless gifts for him." She gestured curtly in the direction of Melora, and the bulging saddlebags she carried. "Stand aside if you value your head."

As she had hoped, the combination of her fearless demeanor and the invocation of the Maharajah's name gave the officer pause. Taking such an aggressive tack with such a heavily-armed, well-trained band wouldn't have been her first choice, normally, but she'd seen enough nobles in action - both before and after her transformation into a DragonRider - to know that they tended to be rather dismissive of soldiers, considering political power and influence to be the paramount force in the world. Anitra knew better - lords and ladies, politicians and bureaucrats, they bled and died if they encountered the pointy end of a sword, same as anyone else. No titles, deeds, or immaculate family-trees could stop an arrow in flight. Right now, though, she needed to convince this officer that she was, indeed, a wealthy, foreign dignitary - and, by extension, that attacking her would draw the displeasure of his lord - and that meant walking the walk and talking the talk, however foolish it seemed to her.

Standing a bit straighter, the officer let his gaze wander across her two companions before answering. "I... see. And these... other individuals with you?" Having been prepared for this question, she quickly looked to both sides before staring at him with feigned surprise. "Individuals? These are my servants, of course. Direza, my lady-in-waiting, and Melora, my bodyguard. I could hardly be expected to travel to this godforsaken jungle alone, could I? Let alone carry all the gifts for the Maharajah!" The officer, unaware that he was closely following the script that she and Blake had hashed out in what-ifs and loose theory before they even left home, nodded with suddenly-sharp eyes as he spotted the 'hole' in her account.

"Indeed not, my lady... though, I would not have expected someone of your obvious stature to come here on foot, either." His tone was accusatory, and the soldiers behind him shifted slightly, hands close to the hilt of their swords. She, however, deliberately ignored his tone, and gave him a bemused glance as she delivered the finishing blow. "Hm? Well, of course I wouldn't! I just landed back there!" She waved casually back towards the open farmland that was, by now, invisible behind the curving wall of the jungle-tunnel. "I would, of course, have preferred to fly straight into Akshardham, but Shankara - that old dear - said that a dragon arriving unannounced there might not be well-received... so provincial!" The dramatic eye-roll at the end might have qualified as overplaying the role a bit, but it hardly mattered. In a single breath, she had explained the dragon-sighting that had sent them out this way in the first place, identified herself as someone powerful enough to compel a dragon to serve as her steed, and name-dropped one of the most respected individuals in all of Ganarãjya as if he was an old friend.

The officer, who had been leaning forwards a bit as if ready to pounce, suddenly stood parade-ground straight. "You... are referring to Guru Shankara?" She nodded curtly, pulling a wax-sealed scroll from the sash of her dress. "Well, yes of course! I'm carrying a letter from him to the Maharajah too, come to that. I'm not much for playing courier, really, but he is such a dear, so I couldn't really refuse when he asked me to bring it along for him." The officer swallowed, and behind him, the previously-antsy soldiers straightened too. No wonder, either - Guru Shankara was the most respected Sage in the entire kingdom, and had personally mediated a number of minor - but still potentially messy - disputes between the Maharajah's palace and the Grand Temple of Sargonnas. Since any conflict between the political and religious authorities of Ganarãjya would leave the Akharas unenviable caught in the middle, they were inordinately fond of the saintly old man.

And, fortunately, the letter was no bluff - Guru Shankara was currently visiting the Dragon Utopia, as Blake and Anitra had discovered when they returned from Mirage City, and started asking around to see if anyone knew much about Ganarãjya. And he was_really a dear - he'd happily told them everything they wanted to know about the current political, religious and military situation in Ganarãjya, as well as social mores (including warning Anitra that wearing her customary attire around there would cause... trouble), and had even been able to provide second-hand confirmation concerning the method the Priests of Sargonnas used to explore memories of past lives. (Which had prompted Blake to grumble that they could've saved a trip to Mirage City if they'd just asked him _first.)

He did not, however, know the secrets of the ritual, not being a part of the temple himself. But it was he who had suggested that they approach the Maharajah first, and sought to acquire his support, rather than try to deal with the temple directly. Based on what he'd told her about the Maharajah's personality - and the internal politics of the Holy City - it certainly seemed like the best option available, so here they were. The officer, meanwhile, had recovered from his momentary befuddlement, and now saluted smartly. "Welcome to Ganarãjya, my lady. Please, allow me and my men to escort you to Akshardham!" She nodded curtly, acting to the best of her ability as if his sudden politeness and helpfulness was no more than her due.

As the unit changed direction, the soldiers spread out on both sides of her in two straight files - a formation that very conveniently served to protect their very distinguished visitor from any jungle predators foolish enough to look to the convoy for a snack, as well as ensuring that there was nowhere for those very distinguished visitors to run off to in case they'd been bluffing. Well, she had been bluffing, of course, but not in the areas that the officer might have suspected, so that was fine by her. The archers that had been left a ways back on the path soon joined them as well, except for a couple who dashed on ahead of them - runners to warn the city (and, more importantly, the palace) of the impending arrival of a foreign dignitary.

The officer fell in beside her as they walked towards the city, and threw a veiled eye back towards Direza and Melora before restarting the conversation in hushed tones. "If you will pardon me, my lady, I must ask - those servants of yours..." She arched an eyebrow as arrogantly as she could manage as she fired back without waiting for him to continue. "Yes? What about them?" "Well, your lady-in-waiting... the one in the black robe... I've never seen one before myself, but... isn't she a Drow? One of those they call the Dark Elves?" She snorted mockingly and delivering her best save-me-from-these-ignorant-peasants eye-roll before she replied. "How perceptive of you - I can see how you made officer! She is indeed. And yes, I am aware of their reputation. However, my homeland is more... cosmopolitan than most, and there we recognize the folly of persecuting an individual for the sins of their nation. The Drow are, indeed, a rather barbarous bunch as a whole - but Direza here is a simple refugee, fleeing the sadistic excesses of her own people, and has proven a loyal and devoted subject of her new home. Isn't that right, my dear?" The last bit was spoken a tad louder, and behind her, Direza bowed gracefully without missing a step. "It is indeed, Mistress. I have found a home in your hall unlike any I knew in the dark depths of Commoragh, and would happily die for you if I thought it suitable repayment for your generosity." The timbre of complete earnestness in the elf-girl's clear voice was not at all faked, nor was Anitra's fond smile in reply.

The officer gazed back at her, his eyes quite different from when he'd looked at her before. As a member of a warrior order like the Akharas, he clearly recognized and applauded Direza's devotion, and some of the suspicion went out of his demeanor as he turned his eyes on Melora next. "So I see, my lady. And... what of your bodyguard? I must confess, I have never seen her like, nor even heard of such a... being." Anitra shrugged casually, and glanced incuriously over at Melora as if she'd never really bothered to look too closely at the horse-girl - who was currently maintaining a carefully neutral expression as she marched in lockstep with the surrounding soldiers. "Oh, her? She is of the horsefolk tribe, as should be... rather obvious. Strong backs, excellent workers, and fine soldiers - including the women. And since a high-born lady obviously can't have a male bodyguard follow her everywhere, the women of that clan are highly popular in that regard. I'm afraid I don't know much about her personally, if that's what you're asking, though. It was my husband who hired her. My safety is, of course, his paramount concern."

A classic bit of strategy on the esoteric battlefield of nobles - the old 'do you know who my husband is?!?' attack. No doubt, the officer had encountered any number of noble ladies in his career who had been happy to wield the authority and influence of their husbands or fathers as a blade against him, and the fact that said career had progressed as far as it had indicated that he'd learned to respect how potent - if cowardly - that weapon could be. And sure enough, as soon as she'd mentioned her husband, she could see him stiffen a bit more - contemplating, no doubt, what kind of power and influence the_husband_ of such an obviously wealthy and influential woman might wield.

"Well, I am sure he had the resource to ensure that you got only the best of protection..." he said cautiously, in a blatantly obvious attempt to fish for more information - and she was only too happy to acquiesce. "Oh, well, of course! He assured me that Melora here was the very best the clan had to offer, and with his training and experience, he would know! Of course, when he is by my side, I need fear neither man nor beast - but alas, however much I might wish differently, I can hardly expect him to stay with me at all times. His duties with the High Council keep him quite busy, unfortunately - those fools seem to do nothing but bicker and argue if he isn't there to pull them up short! Oh, but listen to me going on about local politics - I'm sure such matters are of little interest to a military man such as yourself..." She smiled unpleasantly, rolling her eyes again to make it clear that she'd just realized she was wasting her time explaining important matters to someone obviously unqualified to understand them. He, meanwhile, nodded stiffly while wearing a rather pasted-on smile of his own, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Despite whatever suspicions he might still harbor - nothing she said had actually been backed up with real proof yet, after all - he was clearly eating it all raw. And well he should - her experience had taught her by now that the best kind of lie was naught but the unvarnished truth, presented in such a way that the recipient's own assumptions and preconceptions did the rest.

About twenty minutes of brisk walking later, they reached the outskirts of Akshardham, and seeing it from the ground, Anitra realized that she'd vastly underestimated the size of the Ganarãjyan capital. The locals lived in close symbiosis with the jungle, and never cut down a tree unless it was genuinely necessary - so while the Great Temple of Sargonnas and the Maharajah's majestic palace, along with various other noble abodes, rose above the treeline, the vast majority of the city consisted of low buildings nestled between the trees, all but invisible from above. Several of the larger building were actually woven from the living woods themselves, with moss, jungle-trees and vines twisted by the Druidic arts into grandiose (and very nature-friendly) habitats.

It was nearly twenty more minutes of walking before they could even see the Royal Palace - mainly because Akshardham seemed to lack the broad, straight avenues that most capitals sported, being instead made up of a warren of twisting passages no wider than the wheel-ruts that had led them there, zig-zagging around large trees and small houses alike. The Akhara officer navigated this labyrinth with the casual sure-footedness of a local, but Anitra felt dimly certain that she'd get hopelessly lost in minutes if she tried to retrace her steps.

Finally, they emerged into what seemed to be the only proper road in the city - a wide avenue, straight as a ruler with a narrow, sapphire band of visible sky above it, cutting through city and jungle alike from the foot of the small hill that housed the most important buildings in the city: The Grand Temple of Sargonnas, the Akharas Barracks, and of course, the Maharajah's Palace. This administrative and religious complex was, unlike the city proper, surrounded by a tall, sturdy-looking stone wall, and Anitra had a brief vision of how a theoretical invader would find the city: Entirely abandoned, save for a heavily-defended enclave in the center manned by elite Akharas... with virtually the entire population of the city having melted into the jungles, ready to act as guerrillas and make life miserable for anyone foolish enough to attempt a siege. Food and water would be poisoned, siege-engines sabotaged, sentinels disappear, and officers assassinated... until they had been weakened enough to find themselves suddenly caught between a surge of Akharas emerging from the wide gates of the central complex, and a huge army of irregulars materializing out of the jungle behind them.

Fortunately, she was there as a diplomatic visitor, not an invader - and could thus walk up the central avenue alongside her military escort while the surrounding citizens stared in naked curiosity. They were a rather colorful lot, with the men dressed in simple, loose garments of tunic, hose and turban, while the women wore dresses in an odd style that rather looked like it was just a single length of fabric strategically draped around them. They were all tan-skinned, and the women sported red dots in the middle of their foreheads, just like Sarya back in Mirage City. The people, however, did not let their curiosity keep them from their work - the city was bustling with activity, particularly around the central avenue. Stalls lined the broad road, filled with merchants nosily hawking their wares, while women walked to and fro, often carrying heavy loads upon their heads. Meanwhile, the road itself was heavily trafficked, with ox-carts and elephants alike making their way back or forth carrying various packages and bundles. Indeed, she suspected that taking advantage of the elephants' vast carrying-capacity was the main reason the main road even existed - the huge beasts could never hope to fit into the warren of side-streets and alleyways that made up the rest of the city.

The road sloped upwards through the wide gates of the inner walls, with steps lining the sides and a flat surface of flagstones in the middle - room for both pedestrians, elephants and carts to come and go. As they approached the gate, the crowds thinned, and the buildings lining the road became bigger and more grandiose. Many were still storefronts, but the merchants manning those stores were richly-dressed and did not bother to shout - instead sitting comfortably in the shade, simply letting the valuable treasures on display draw the attention of anyone wealthy enough to be their customers. The gate itself was manned by more Akharas, and their keen eyes scanned everyone going in or out. They stood at attention and saluted as Anitra and her escort approached, clearly having been warned of their impending arrival by the runners sent ahead by the officer.

The massive gate was wide and tall enough to let two elephants pass one another beneath it, and had more in common with a portcullis than anything else. Rather than opening in or out, a thick slab of metal was held suspended above it by a combination of a mechanical counterweight-system and some heavy-duty enchantments - ensuring that it could be slammed shut in a split second, should the occasion demand it. She had to forcibly restrain herself from glancing nervously up at it as they passed below - such a heavy mass descending on her, while her movement was encumbered by the long dress she wore... no amount of draconic strength or unbreakable armor could stop her from getting squashed like an ant. The locals, of course, seemed to give it no mind - too used to it to consider it a danger.

Inside, a large plaza opened up before her, entirely bereft of trees, and currently occupied by a solid regiment of Akharas and a squad of war-elephants, chain-mail hanging off their sides like cobwebs, archers lining the armored howdahs on their backs. Apparently, the plaza served as a parade-ground for the nearby Akharas barracks, and there just happened to be an exercise in progress right now, showing off the skills of the elite warriors and their carefully-controlled war-beasts. And however staged, she had to admit, they were impressive - particularly the elephants. She'd thought 'Abu' back at Mirage City was a tremendous beast, but these specimens - bred for war, heavily armored, and with tusks gleaming with golden engravings that imbued them with potent enchantments - were in a whole other league.

Trying not to look too interested, she peered to the right, looking over the impressive mud-brick structures and soaring spires of the Grand Temple of Sargonnas - her true target. Ponds and parks surrounded the buildings, and numerous priests with shaven heads (though notably_unshaven_ beards) and deep orange garments wandered amongst them, talking or working in the gardens. A small wall surrounded the temple - more symbolic than anything else, seeing as it was made from baked mud-bricks like the rest of the complex, and low enough that any reasonably fit person could easily climb over it. Several priests had stopped near the gate - guarded by a pair of severe-looking Akharas, of course - and were glaring at her with poorly-hidden distaste. According to Guru Shankara, the Temple of Sargonnas had long been suspicious of the 'corruption' that trade with the world outside their jungle home would bring to their culture, this being the main source of friction between them and the Maharajahs, who had largely been in favor of international trade and the wealth that it brought with it.

This also created the main visual distinction between the Grand Temple - built from the clay of the Holy River, Mela - and the Maharajah's Palace, which was sheathed with expensive, imported marble. It was towards the steps of this majestic building that she was now being guided, and she once again had to struggle not to stare like a wide-eyed tourist. Her travels and adventures had taken her far and wide, but this was perhaps the most magnificent edifice she'd ever seen - matching even the Sultan's Palace of Mirage City for architectural splendor. The main door - brilliantly decorated with gold-inlaid artwork - was wide-open, and guarded by yet another pair of Akharas. Her own military escort, meanwhile, had peeled off and was now marching towards their barracks, with only the officer continuing to act as her guide right up until he could hand her over to the palace-guards and breathe a sigh of relief that she was no longer his responsibility.

However, as soon as they approached the door, the stern-faced sentinels crossed their spears, barring their way. "Apologies, my lady." One of them spoke up. "But weapons are not allowed within the Maharajah's Palace. Your bodyguard will have to leave hers here, and you will all be searched for concealed weapons." Anitra didn't need to act in order to pull a horrified face. She'd expected the first part, and was ready to concede it, but had relied on her 'high status' and gender to avoid a pat-down. "This is outrageous!" she sputtered. "I have not come this far to have some filthy doorman lay his hands on my body! I am sure you are eager to justify your own barbaric existence, but common decency should at least prevent you from deliberately instigating a war by molesting the wife of..."

That was as far as she got before a man dressed in a brilliantly-colored robe and sporting a jeweled turban appeared in the door and put his hand on the crossed spears, looking sternly at the two guards. Immediately, they stood at attention and lifted their spears, making it abundantly clear who she was facing. She allowed her tirade to trail into a relieved smile as the Maharajah of Akshardham spoke to the sentinels. "Your dedication to my safety does you credits, men of the Akhara. However, I hardly think someone who carries a letter from Guru Shankara would be an assassin out for my life." Anitra, meanwhile, quickly glared at them both - right down her nose, in the proper, noble fashion - before smiling beatifically at the Maharajah. "Finally, a civilized man! It is my pleasure to meet you, Lord Dharmasãstra. I am Anitra, and hold the rank of DragonRider within the Utopia."

She bowed, rather than curtsying, as Guru Shankara had told her was the custom for both genders in Ganarãjya, and the Maharajah returned the gesture rather gracefully for someone who had so few people to bow to. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Anitra. I had consigned myself to a rather boring afternoon, and your unexpected arrival is a most pleasant surprise. Especially if you truly carry a missive from my old friend, Guru Shankara - I have longed for his company since he left on his secretive trip." Anitra wrinkled her brow, as if trying to recall something that wasn't terribly important. "Oh, the letter! Yes, I suppose I'd best hand it to you now, before I forget again." Pulling the sealed scroll from her sash, she handed it over to the still-smiling Maharajah with a casual smile of her own - but as he carefully studied the wax seal before breaking it and unrolling the scroll, she found herself momentarily apprehensive. She didn't know what, exactly, Guru Shankara had written in the scroll - only that it hadn't contained any of the key secrets concerning the nature and location of the Dragon Utopia that all visitors had to swear to keep secret. (Said oaths being enforced by powerful magics, of course.)

However, as he read, the Maharaja's face brightened into a genuinely pleased smile - noticeably different from the politically polite expression he'd worn before - and then quickly nodded. "Ah, good old Guru Shankara... sounds like he's having the time of his life in your homeland! Please, do come inside - my home is your home, for as long as you may wish to stay." He then quickly looked at the two sentinels. "Lady Anitra is my guest - as are her servants - and they will be free to come and go as they please, with or without weapons. Am I understood?" The guards dutifully stood at attention and barked out a "Yes, Your Majesty!" - but to Anitra's keen eyes, their demeanor somehow seemed to lack the contrition one would expect to see in a soldier who had displeased his king. Had the whole affair, including the Maharajah's timely arrival, been staged for her benefit? If so, the man clearly knew how to pull a convincing play together in a hurry. All the more reason not to underestimate the handsome, pleasantly-smiling young man with the extravagant clothes and the curved dagger belted at his waist who now guided her inside the huge, well-appointed palace.

The palace proved to be as opulent on the inside as it was on the outside. Broad corridors of marble, tastefully lined with artwork and cultural artifacts. Well-kept enclosed gardens, often featuring extravagant fountains. Thick rugs that would probably be sinfully pleasant to walk on barefooted. Arched windows and wide balconies, providing splendid views across the city and the surrounding jungle. And of course, her host was the very soul of conviviality, pointing out and explaining the various vases, tapestries and paintings that lined the hallways as he led her towards the palace's seemingly-extensive guest-wing. Only when she brought up her winged steed did he pause, the smile on his face freezing slightly.

"The title of Dragon-Rider is not entirely ceremonial, you see..." she explained, in the patient voice of a noble eager to expound on her own paramount importance. "I have a duty to look after my steed, which is no simple matter. Dragons do not grow on trees, after all! And I rather doubt your stableboys - however skilled they no doubt are - are prepared to look after a full-grown dragon. So ideally, I would have quarters with direct access to somewhere spacious enough to house him. Perhaps something near one of these lovely little gardens?" The Maharajah seemed to chew on that for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "Ah! I know. I will put you _and_your magnificent steed up in my grandfather's old bedroom! It's got more than enough space, as well as a rather large balcony that should allow for... airborne access. It has stood disused for a while, though..." He beckoned to one of the half-dozen servants who were following them at a distance, and a young woman sprang eagerly forwards to receive his order. Then she dashed off to, apparently, air out and prepare these old bedchambers for Anitra and Blake's use.

The Maharajah then changed direction, leading her towards a small dining-room while suggesting that they have a quick snack as they waited for her chambers to be prepared, and then launching into an amused-sounding explanation when she curiously asked why his palace had a bedchamber big enough to support a small dragon, currently standing unused. "Well, you see..." he said, sounding mock-conspiratorial. "By long-standing custom, the Maharajah is entitled to a harem of concubines, to help him unwind from the stresses of managing this great nation - as well as ensure the succession, should his wife fail to produce a suitable heir."

He paused in his tracks, and nodded at a large portrait of a tall, heavily-mustachioed man standing with one foot on a freshly-slain tiger. "My grandfather. A man of many passions, including hunting and... taking full advantage of that particular tradition. And rather than just invite a concubine to bed each night, he preferred to invite all of them - usually having most perform various... acts for his amusement while he entertained himself with two or three of them directly." He grinned somewhat naughtily at her as he started walking again. "Ah, as a foreigner, you might not realize... to outsiders, we seem rather conservative and proper, I suppose. But while we have strict rules of propriety, particularly in terms of how you should dress in public, we also believe that what transpires between consenting adults in the privacy of their own home is no business of anyone but them. That goes for the meanest burgher as well as the Maharajah himself."

He shrugged as he kept walking. "Hence, no-one particularly objected to his amusements, and he provided gainful employment for any number of nubile young women. But then he started complaining that there wasn't room in his bedchamber for his ever-growing harem, and had the architects build him a new, bigger one by remodeling one of the smaller ballrooms. The bed he had specially constructed for the premises could hold no fewer than a dozen girls, in addition to his own majestic personage." His steps then slowed, just a tad, and he sighed heavily. "I hear he enjoyed his new quarters immensely, for half a year or so. Then he was assassinated by one of his concubines during his nightly frolicking. Turned out, she was the daughter of a merchant who had gone bankrupt due to some of my grandfather's trade-policies, and subsequently hanged himself.

Shaking his head as if to chase off dark memories, he stepped briskly forwards again, opening a door decorated with silver inlays and showing her into an airy dining-room with a marvelous view. "Ah, right in here. Allow me to draw out a chair for you, my lady - the servants will be along with snacks and drinks shortly. Now, where was I... right, after my father ascended the throne, he decided to break from tradition, and refused to take any concubines - for no-doubt obvious reasons. So he moved back to the original Royal Bedchambers. I, myself, have elected to follow his example - one wife is quite enough for me, thank-you. If my beloved should fail to produce an heir in a timely fashion, I may have to take a concubine for that purpose, but we are both still young, and despite some worrying from some of the courtiers, there is plenty of time for us to ensure the stability of the succession."

As several servants filed in carrying trays of tiny, creamy cakes, cold cuts of meat mounted on fresh-baked bread, pitchers of wine and other delectables, Anitra politely enquired after the Maharani, and wondered aloud whether she would get to see the famous beauty her host had married? Alas, the Maharajah regretfully informed her that his wife was currently away visiting her parents, the royal couple of a neighboring kingdom, and would not be due back for some weeks yet. "Perils of arriving unannounced, I suppose!" Anitra declared philosophically, taking it as spoken that the Maharani would have delayed her trip had she known she would come to visit. She was honestly starting to get a bit worried at how easy she was finding it to act with such noble arrogance.

The light chatter went on for some time, as Anitra daintily ate a few of the light snacks before her, and drank a small cup of wine (taking care, of course, to compliment the fine vintage. She didn't know the first thing about wine, but knew that the Maharajah would be bound to bring out some of his finer vintages for such a mysterious guest.) Meanwhile, Direza and Melora stood silently and unobtrusively behind her - the very image of the conscientious bodyguard and obedient lady-in-waiting. Still, Anitra was quite relieved when a vaguely-familiar girl appeared in the door and bowed in the direction of the Maharajah, who smiled broadly and rose from his seat. "Ah, it seems the room has been prepared for you! My staff, as ever, are the very picture of efficiency."

Politely accepting the Maharajah's arm as she rose from the table, she did her best not to show her aforementioned relief as he - with exquisite courtesy - suggested that she retreat to her chambers and recover after her long journey. Declaring that he needed to start planning a suitable welcome-banquet for tonight, he bid her farewell for now, assuring her that the girl - named Manushya, apparently - would guide her and her servants safely to the room that had been prepared for her. Certainly, the palace was expansive enough that she could easily have gotten lost without a local guide - not least because of all the shiny, distracting objects that lined the hallways - but the girl navigated the twists, turns and staircases with practiced ease.

Something about the girl bugged her. At first she'd seemed entirely unimportant and beneath her notice, but then something started niggling in the back of her head. The whole 'ignore the servants, they're just part of the furniture' attitude wasn't really her, but just part of the 'arrogant noblewoman' act she was putting on. She wouldn't normally think like that. And yet, the feeling that the girl wasn't worth thinking about remained - as did the completely unremarkable way she looked. Pretty enough to not look out of place in the opulent palace, but no eye-catching beauty. Regular, symmetrical facial traits. Smooth, ordinary voice. She was so normal it was _ab_normal, so unnoticeable that Anitra couldn't help but notice it. Could the girl be some kind of covert agent? An assassin or spy tasked with keeping an eye on the mysterious visitor? If so, she had to be careful - it wasn't as if she didn't have anything to hide.

Finally, they arrived at the 'bedroom', which was every bit as big as she'd been led to expect. Certainly, there was enough floor-space to fit a major orgy or a mid-sized dragon - and Blake was, after all, a fairly small dragon, so there was room to spare. The balcony was fully to scale - with the doorway leading out to it easily big enough that Blake would be able to fit through it when he folded his wings - presumably being designed to support a small party with a great view. She'd sent Blake the first update as soon as the Sultan agreed to lend her a dragon-sized space - and had gotten a vaguely-annoyed grumble about how he'd just settled down on a nice roost at a nearby mountain back. Right now, she could sense him high above, hiding himself from view by sticking between the sun and the city, and she sent him the final go-ahead.

The girl - Manushya - was still busy showing her around the huge room and telling her about the various amenities (the Maharajah's grandfather had, somewhat unsurprisingly, also installed an extensive bathing-suite in the adjoining room) when Blake descended from the sky with blinding speed. A little shriek escaped her lips as the huge, black beast air-braked with widely-spread wings, then landed on the balcony with feather-light agility. From outside, she could hear a babble of half-panicked shouting and sharp roars that carried the timbre of command - soldiers on the surrounding battlements reacting to the suddenly-appearing dragon, and their officers reminding them that the Maharajah had told them not to shoot it.

As Blake looked around at the huge, luxuriously-appointed room with obvious approval, his eyes fixed on the servant-girl and narrowed. She, meanwhile, stammered out an apology and a note that she should 'just call' if they required anything, before beating a hasty retreat and finally leaving Anitra alone with Direza, Melora and Blake. As soon as the door had closed behind her, everyone but Blake breathed a nigh-simultaneous tired sigh and sank down on the various comfy pillows and chairs scattered around the huge room, with Melora dropping the jangling saddlebags full of priceless jewelry on the floor. Meanwhile, Blake carefully tucked his wings closed and walked inside the richly-appointed chambers, spending some more time admiring its sheer opulence before breaking the silence.

"That servant-girl... did you notice?" He was keeping his voice low, so as not to let it carry. Anitra looked up at him for a moment, then sighed and got to her feet, stripping off the sweat-soaked dress before answering. The windows all looked out over the jungle with nowhere for inquisitive eyes to hide, and any attempts at magical espionage would've been instantly spotted by Blake, if not herself. "Well, I definitely noticed that there was something off about her..." her voice was muffled by the dense fabric bunched about her head, but Blake's keen ears easily picked it up anyway. With a gasp, her head emerged from the dress, and she carelessly threw it on a chair while shaking out her hair and enjoying the feeling of the air against her half-naked body again. "I figured she might be some kind of palace spy, keeping an eye on me for the Maharajah."

Blake scratched one of his scaly brow-ridges thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Not impossible. But I doubt it. She's... not human. Had the scent of a beast about her." Anitra's eyes narrowed. "Really? If that's so... hm. Well, people hiring suitable non-humans for covert tasks isn't unheard of, but Guru Shankara didn't mention anything of the sort when he told us about the palace politics. Of course, I suppose it could just be a really good_covert unit." Then her eyebrows rose higher. "Wait a minute... I felt like there was something subtly _off about the way she looked, but overall, she does look human. If she's actually some kind of bestial monster in disguise, shouldn't I be able to pick up the magical... 'glow' of the disguise itself?" Blake clicked his tongue in reply, and looked thoughtfully at the door the girl had left through. "Ah... yes, I suppose you wouldn't really be able to perceive it. She did have a magical glow to her, indicating an illusion being used to disguise her true nature, but it was extremely subtle. Even I might not have noticed if the scent hadn't drawn my attention first, and my eyes are sharper than yours."

Anitra licked her lips, suddenly feeling nervous. "And... what would that indicate?" she asked cautiously. Blake shrugged his huge shoulders, his expression edging into uncertainty. "Well, mostly, it would indicate an extreme level of mastery. As in, it wasn't magic in the traditional sense. I can create simple illusions myself, as you well know - inanimate matter is easy. An illusion overlapping your entire body, moving, breathing, talking and meshing perfectly with your actions is orders of magnitude more complex. I certainly can't do it. More practiced mages can, but doing so would burn a lot of magic, creating a very noticeable glow for people like us. Hence... whatever she is underneath that illusion is something with an intrinsic, natural affinity for illusions."

"And before you ask..." he continued, before she could ask, "I don't know what that might be. The only such creatures I know of are certain orders of demons - succubi and incubi, in particular. They use such powers to infiltrate the mortal realm, blend in wherever they go, and of course, for seduction. But I don't think that's what she was. Infernal creatures have a rather... characteristic scent to them." Anitra winced slightly at the mention of demons. She'd tangled with a few such creatures in her time, and it hadn't always gone well. Actually, it had never really gone 'well'. Best that could be said for those instances was that she'd survived. So if this innocent-seeming servant-girl was - if not an actual demon, then something with powers on par with them... she was worth keeping an eye on. And if the Maharajah commanded the loyalty of such beings...

"Of course... we don't actually know if she's working for the Maharajah..." she said, mostly to herself - but Blake quickly nodded. "Indeed. For that matter, he might be her target_for all we know. Infiltrating the palace disguised as a servant, waiting for a chance to be alone with the Maharajah... stuff like that has happened before. Actually, based on what you said about this room, it's not too far from the way his grandfather died." Silence fell over the room for a bit, as everyone contemplated the implications of that. Finally, Direza piped up. "Well, if she _is_spying on us, telling the Maharajah we've spotted her won't do any good. He'd probably just deny everything, switch her out for some_other spy we may or may not be able to spot, and punish her for failing to stay covert. If anything, embarrassing him like that is only going to make him more negatively disposed towards us..."

Melora, meanwhile, had pulled her helmet off and was now airing out her sweaty mane. "That's probably true... but on the other hand, if she offs him while we're here, we'll automatically become suspects on account of being mysterious strangers, letter from the Guru or not. Heck, we've even been alone with her - so for all anyone else would know, we might've come here to slip her some hidden weapon and give her the final go-ahead order." Anitra couldn't resist smiling as the two of them bounced ideas and possibilities back and forth. While they were both utterly devoted and deliciously submissive to her and Blake, respectively, they were far from the silent, obedient servants they were playing in today's performance. The atmosphere between the four of them was often playful, and neither of them were afraid to speak their minds. Which certainly made for far more vigorous brainstorming-sessions than she and Blake could've managed on their own.

Still, by the time a polite knock on the door made everyone jump up and get back in character, no clear conclusion had been reached - beyond "We need to figure out what side that girl is on." Slipping her dress back on in a hurry, Anitra quickly straightened her hair and answered the door, where a demure servant - not Manushya, but another who lacked the same sense of vague wrongness, and thus probably wasn't anything more than she appeared - informed her that the Sultan was awaiting her in one of the main banquet-halls. The fact that her voice only just barely trembled as she beheld Blake's watchful form curled on the chamber floor was a credit to her dedication, and Anitra favored her with a suitably haughty smile as she nodded and gestured for Direza and Melora to follow her. Direza, this time, was carrying a small box of scented wood, exquisitely crafted by the Utopia's best woodworker, and plucked from the heavy saddlebags as a suitable first overture during a break in the earlier debates.

The banquet-hall was suitably magnificent, and other than the Sultan seemingly contained a veritable Who's Who of Akshardham. Colorfully-clad nobles, wealthy merchants decked out in tasteless amounts of heavy jewelry, the commander of the Akharas and a couple of his aides in stiff parade-ground uniforms, and even a handful of conservatively-clad, shaven-headed priests. Although, based on the description she'd received from Guru Shankara, not the High Priest of Sargonnas himself. Counterfeit noble or not, she could easily guess that he'd been invited by the Maharajah as a matter of course, and refused the invitation in a calculated insult to the 'bearer of foreign corruption' that she was in his eyes.

The Maharajah himself eagerly waved her towards the seat on his left hand - the one to his right having been left conspicuously empty out of respect for his currently-absent wife - and she gracefully sank down in this seat of honor. As soon as she was seated, he rose to his feet and clapped his hands for silence, before launching into a suitably effusive welcome-speech, making sure that everyone in the room understood that she was a Very Important Visiting Dignitary... from the remote, enigmatic nation that Guru Shankara was currently visiting. The unspoken message underneath was no doubt lost on absolutely no-one, despite there being no hint in word-choice or tone towards it: "Be polite to her, 'cuz otherwise her countrymen might just stop being polite to the Guru."

As soon as he'd finished his speech and sat down, she quickly rose herself and delivered one of her own - albeit a bit shorter, and heavier on basic platitudes about 'great hospitality' and 'great opportunities for trade and the exchange of ideas'. Which fit her assumed persona as a 'woman of the world' currently slumming it with provincial barbarians. Then she waved Direza forwards. "As a token of my esteem - and of my gratitude for the fine welcome I have received - I have prepared a small gift for His Majesty, Maharajah Dharmasãstra." Direza - with her eyes suitably downcast - handed the small box to the Maharajah, who took it with a polite smile despite the sudden twitchiness and rapidly-exchanged glances of several nearby palace-guards. Well, they were paid to be paranoid, while the Maharajah was paid - after a fashion - to be diplomatic, so of course he gave no show of sharing their sudden worries that the box might contain a weapon or explosive. He merely spent a few minutes loudly admiring the intricate carvings, then opened it.

The expression of political politeness slid from his face like a dropped mask, and was replaced with an expression of utter, gobsmacked disbelief for several seconds before he managed to get himself back under control, and lifted the contents up into the lights for everyone to admire. A blue diamond, fully as large as his fist, and carved into a multifaceted prism that seemed to catch and magnify the light of the evening sun as it flowed from the wide, arched windows of the banquet-hall's western wall. It was one of the biggest ever found in the bottomless mines of the Utopia, and carefully carved by dragon-claw many years before Blake and Anitra had arrived there. Few dragons had the patience for gemcraft, but those who did regularly produced stones that surpassed anything a mortal craftsman could realistically provide - such as this. Getting their hands on it hadn't been easy, but between trading on their heroic reputation (and some judiciously-applied seduction) they'd managed it. And the look on the faces of the wealthy and powerful attending the banquet made it more than worth the hassle.

Merchants found themselves glancing down at their own jewelry, suddenly feeling under-dressed and quietly calculating the possible value of a trading-partner capable of handing out such extravagant gifts. Nobles mentally adjusted the presumed rank of the mysterious visitor several notches up, as they pondered what kind of influence and lineage it would take to obtain such a stone. The General of the Akharas, meanwhile, seemed marginally terrified, no doubt wondering what kind of military someone able to hand out such stones as gifts were able to finance. In truth, of course, the Dragon Utopia didn't have anything that could be even loosely defined as a 'standing army'. It was, however, full of dragons, so one could argue that they didn't_need_ one - and that the reality was significantly worse than even the most pessimistic theories the general was now forming.

Once the Maharajah had finished showing off his 'gift', and had carefully returned it to its box and sent said box off with a _very_nervous-looking servant to be placed in the highly-secured Palace Treasury, the actual banquet finally got started, with no-one seeming inclined to make a speech after Anitra had finished hers with such a gleaming period. (In truth, she'd managed to deter several who'd otherwise have been inclined to delay the arrival of the food by at least another half-hour.) Now, extravagant dishes and ornate glass goblets appeared, carried by sure-footed servants, and soon covered the tables. Anitra, who'd managed to work up quite a hunger, dug in as eagerly as she dared - keeping, as always, her image as a delicate noblewoman in mind. Meanwhile, the Maharajah fulfilled his duty as host magnificently, quietly pointing out various interesting people at the other tables, while simultaneously confirming her earlier suspicion about the High Priest of Sargonnas.

Evidently eager to demonstrate his thoughtfulness, he also asked if her 'steed' would require feeding tonight, and if so what he required? Seeing an opportunity to make some progress on the subject that had occupied her - and the rest of them - since shortly after their arrival, she replied with a thoughtful nod. "Oh, I fed him before I left the Utopia, so he wouldn't really be hungry, but I'm sure he'd appreciate a snack. Just to show him that I haven't forgotten my duty. Perhaps you could send someone up there with some nice cuts of meat... oh, like that servant from before, what was her name... Manushya, or something? She was there when he arrived, so he saw her with me and knows her scent. Probably best to use her whenever possible - too many unfamiliar faces and scents can make him a tad antsy, you know." The Maharajah nodded, a vaguely nervous twitch at the corners of his mouth as he contemplated the undesirability of a Black Dragon getting 'a tad antsy' inside his palace, and calling over a servant hovering nearby to deliver a few quick orders. Hopefully, thought Anitra, another chance to see that strange 'servant' up close would give Blake a better idea of what, exactly, she was.

No business was discussed at the banquet - doing so would have been quite rude, as Guru Shankara had made sure to inform her - so Anitra merely focused on trying to remember the more potentially-important faces in the crowd as the Maharajah pointed them out to her, and on enjoying the excellent food. Several of the dishes strategically placed near her had obviously been designed to appeal to a 'foreign' palate, but after sampling those, she'd wasted no time reaching further down the table despite the Maharajah's carefully-worded warnings. Several of the dishes - often some combination of rice, sauce and meat - could be found somewhere on the color-spectrum between 'dark orange' and 'fiery red', and proved to be just as eye-wateringly spicy as a certain merchant had warned her about, back in the sands beyond Mirage City, when she had first heard of the lands of Ganarãjya. Of course, to her, the sensation of a bonfire having been lit inside her mouth seemed remarkably pleasant - as did the gazes of grudging respect that the rest of the dinner-guests threw her way as she chowed down without signs of discomfort. Most likely, they were quite used to foreigners finding their local cuisine unpalatable, and impressed at her apparent tolerance.

After the banquet, the crowd left the hall to 'mingle' in a nearby enclosed garden, even as the sun sank beneath the edge of the palace walls, leaving a dozen servants to compensate for the lost light by running around and lighting the exquisitely-sculpted oil-lamps that were spaced evenly around the garden. This, she knew, was where business got done - and meanwhile, the servants - including Direza and Melora - would be able to sup on the leftovers of the nobles' feast. A tradition both benevolent and practical, she realized - after all, if there was one thing calculated to draw a servant away from the opportunity to pick up some juicy gossip from the conversation of their esteemed masters, it was free food. Thus, the assembled nobles and merchants could conduct their business in the garden, with at least a heavily reduced chance of their low-pitched discussions making it beyond the walls.

As she admired a sculpted marble fountain - featuring a rather obscene centerpiece that made her reflect that while she knew little of art, she could readily appreciate at least some of its forms - the Maharajah appeared quietly at her side, a last goblet of fine wine in his hand, and finally addressed the proverbial elephant in the room. "So, my dear Anitra... now that you have wowed both me and my government with the power and wealth at your disposal, will you tell me what it is you seek to accomplish here? I find it unlikely, at least, that this is merely a courtesy-visit..." Nodding, she casually looked around to see if anyone was standing suspiciously close, but apparently the rest of the guest knew better than to crowd the Maharajah. "I'm here to trade for something." She said finally. "Something very valuable, which I'm willing to pay quite a bit for..."

"We are always happy to open new avenues of international trade..." he remarked, taking another sip of his wine. "But I'm not sure what our humble jungle has to offer that might hold such great value. Our exports, at the moment, consists chiefly of various kinds of wood and some herbs of alchemical and medical value... along with certain gemstones, but I daresay those won't be likely to interest you." She laughed obligingly at his little joke, and nodded. "Indeed - what I am after is no mere trade-good, but the most priceless thing of all: Knowledge. The Utopia values knowledge above all else - hence why we sometimes invite sages and wisemen of renown to visit us and peruse our extensive libraries, like your own Guru Shankara. Indeed, it was from him that we heard mention of a particular secret that he knew of but was not party to - and it is to obtain this secret that I have come here."

The Maharajah nodded, his attention rapt as she explained. "What I desire is a formula for a herbal mixture used by the Priests of Sargonnas to induce visions of past lives." At this, he blinked in evident confusion. "What, that's all? I'm familiar with that ritual, of course, though I can't claim to know the formula, as such... is that truly a secret of such value?" She shrugged, as if having no personal interest. "So I am told. I am no sage myself, but according to those I have consulted with, every other known method for inducing such visions relies on direct application of magic. And supposedly, being able to do so through alchemical means would open up new avenues of study... ultimately, all I know is that the sages of my homeland consider it an extremely valuable addition to the Utopia's libraries, and that as a DragonRider it is my duty to do everything I can to see that they receive the information they require. Knowledge is our shield and sword as well as our treasury, as the saying goes." Actually, there was no such saying, or at least hadn't been 'till she'd just made it up, but it fit nicely with the image of the Utopia she'd been building up.

The Maharajah nodded again, a look of some trepidation on his face. "I see... well, best to leave such matters to the sages, I suppose. As for obtaining what you seek, I fear it will be an uphill battle. The Priests of Sargonnas have a rather... conservative bend, I'm afraid. Their High Priest more than most. We've had occasional disagreements on the subject of foreign trade in general, so convincing him to hand a temple secret over to a foreigner, whatever the circumstances and details, will be... difficult." Anitra returned the nod, and sighed. "That is what Guru Shankara said as well. But he had faith in your diplomatic skill, and so do I. I have many more gifts on hand, suitable for... motivating whatever esteemed personages you feel might benefit from such. And I can offer more than mere gold - magical and metallurgical secrets that might strengthen your military, for example. Surely, that would please Sargonnas - and by extension, his priests. No?"

Perking up a bit at that, the Maharajah emptied his goblet before answering. "Indeed. That is a tack I could take, certainly. It won't be easy or quick - that old bastard is going to stonewall me every step of the way - but he's not operating in a vacuum, as I occasionally have to remind him." Already, his eyes were narrowing as he mentally ran through the political calculus of the situation, considering how best to deploy his influence in much the same way a military strategist might consider the best disposition of his troops. Hiding a smile behind her own goblet, Anitra drank deeply, satisfied that the first day had been a resounding success. The Maharajah was in her corner, and in this situation, there were few she'd rather have there.

When she returned to her chamber an hour or so later, Direza and Melora in tow, there was more good news. The servant-girl Manushya had delivered several large platefuls of choice meat as a 'snack' for Blake, and had thus been forced to get close enough to him for him to get a better look - and sniff - at her. "Definitely not demonic..." he commented. "Animalistic. Definitely carnivorous. Feline, would be my best bet. Maybe some kind of nature-spirit. If it wasn't for the fact that she's disguised by an illusion rather than shape-shifting, I'd have guessed at a were-cat of some sort." He then scratched his chin thoughtfully with a razor-sharp talon before continuing. "Also... I don't think she's working for the Maharajah. Her fear was... wrong. I'm used to terrifying people, but with her, the fear felt more... generalized, rather than specifically targeted at me, if you catch my drift. I suspect she'd afraid of having her cover blown, and has at least some reason to suspect that I could see through her." Melora, who had begun to strip off her heavy armor now that they were safely sequestered in their chambers (Direza having already cast a Ward on the door which would prevent anyone from barging in unannounced, or for that matter hear anything if they listened at the door) nodded at this. "That seems to support the theory that she's an assassin, undercover and likely targeting the Maharajah himself..."

They spent some time turning over the theory between them after that, but ultimately concluded that while it seemed increasingly probable, it was still a bit too thin. Then they settled down, tired after a long, hot day. Anitra, in particular, felt exhausted - not so much physically as mentally. Keeping up the 'Noblewoman' act was growing somewhat tiresome, especially when coupled with the knowledge that she'd have to keep doing it for days yet. Based on the Maharajah's words earlier in the night, it certainly didn't seem likely that he'd be able to present her with the formula she sought at breakfast tomorrow. Blake, seemingly sensing her fatigue - through general perceptiveness, the psychic bond between them, or possibly both - quietly called Melora over to his side, where she hungrily started to lick and kiss at his bright-red cock as it slowly emerged from its sheath.

Grinning, Anitra - who had stripped off her own dress and armor by then too - laid back on the chamber's huge bed and spread her legs as she gestured for Direza to join her. Tired though she was, the sight of Blake getting ready to screw Melora silly once more was rousing some residual horniness in her, and the drow elf's practiced tongue seemed just the thing for it. Leaning back her head with a sigh, one hand casually tangled in Direza's long, ivory-white locks, she listened with half an ear as Blake mounted Melora nearby, the mare moaning lustily in response, and sent a quick warning over their mental links as she began to drift towards sleep. Blake, she knew, wouldn't need to sleep tonight - dragons requiring sleep only every 48 hours or so - so under the circumstances, he'd be stuck in this chamber all night with nothing to do... other than Melora. The horse-girl, however, would require at least a couple of hours of sleep if she was to look suitably bodyguard-ish the next day, as Anitra reminded him pointedly. The reply was the mental equivalent of a noncommittal grunt, but she knew he'd gotten the message, and that her heavily-armored bodyguard would be fit for duty tomorrow... if, perhaps, walking a bit delicately. And with that thought, she drifted off to sleep, her dreams made vivid by first waves of the gentle orgasm Direza's tongue was teasing out of her...

The next day started off well enough. Anitra was invited to an intimate breakfast with the Maharajah, and elected to leave Direza and Melora behind as a show of trust - after all, he presumably didn't know that she was quite capable of defending herself. Of course, that also gave Melora a chance to sleep in and generally recover after last night - despite her warning, Blake had spent hours pounding her various holes before letting her get any rest, and what sleep she'd gotten had been somewhat fitful... largely due to being thoroughly impaled by Blake's huge cock for the duration. Regardless, her solitary attendance seemed to go over well with the Maharajah, who seemed genuinely unhappy to have no good news to present. He'd sent a message to the High Priest the previous evening, after the banquet, but had received no answer as of yet, despite the designated recipient being a well-known early riser. "Not a big deal by itself..." the Maharajah commented with a weary sigh, "But sadly likely to set the tone for future debate."

After breakfast - which had, true to form, been delicious - they walked through the halls of the palace as he detailed the political situation in the country for her edification, with particular focus on the divide between the Palace and the Temple. Deadly dull stuff, as far as she was concerned, but something her assumed persona would obviously be far more keen on, so she had to fake interest as best she could while idly wondering if Direza might have been able to absorb that stuff more readily - or been just as lost as herself, what with being the former head of an outright theocracy and thus lacking any familiarity with a divide between church and state. Then she paused her step, catching sight of something out the corner of her eye which seemed to set off sparks in her mind.

It was a very impressive - and obviously quite old - tapestry, covering a significant portion of the corridor's wall. It showed a battle-scene in impressive detail - human warriors, with armor and equipment not terribly unlike what she'd seen on the Akharas, fighting strange, feline creatures. Like tigers walking erect. Around them, strange horrors floated, and the paws of the feline beings often glowed with arcane might. The Maharajah, noticing her hesitation, stopped as well and broke off the political lecture to once again play the perfect host. "Ah, you have a good eye... the Arjuna Tapestry! One of the great heirlooms of my family, depicting a great battle during the founding days of our kingdom."

Anitra nodded, puzzle-pieces beginning to come together in her head. "I see... excellent craftsmanship, certainly. So there used to be a lot of trouble with Weretigers around here, then?" The Maharajah laughed politely, shaking his head. "Ah, no - a common misconception. The creatures depicted there are not Weretigers, despite a certain surface resemblance, but a far more dangerous breed: Rakshasa! According to the legends, they were terrible monsters - cannibals, who derived vast power by feeding on human flesh and blood. They were not shapeshifters, like Werebeasts, but instead powerful illusionists... in addition to possessing several other arcane abilities such as flight and invisibility. Once, this whole jungle was theirs, and they hunted humans like prey animals!"

With growing certainty, Anitra nodded and leaned in as if to study the tapestry closer - though, mostly to deny the Maharajah a chance to read her face. "Not for long, I assume?" She asked lightly and glanced sideways to see him grin. "Indeed. My great-great-great-great... well, several generations removed grandfather, he rallied the human tribes and formed a coherent army with which to challenge the Rakshasa for dominion over these lands. Apparently, for all their powers, the Rakshasa proved to be poor soldiers, unable to fight in disciplined formations as we do. They were also outnumbered, though none of that should be taken as an aspersion upon the valor of the brave warriors who fought them back then - for truly, they were horrifying monsters, who wielded their mastery over illusion, as well as razor-sharp claws and fangs, with deadly efficiency. Their powers of invisibility alone made them terrifying predators! And yet, my ancestor persevered, and in the conclusive battle here depicted, defeated them."

"All of them?" Anitra asked, carefully keeping her voice light, as if she was speaking from idle curiosity. "I would think that beings possessing such mastery of illusion would be hard to nail down. Surely, many would run when the battle turned against them." The Maharajah shrugged, briefly scratching at his well-kept beard. "Oh yes, certainly. Many escaped, but as you might recall, their powers derive from the consumption of human flesh. Without such dread sustenance, those powers faded... and they became the prey. Others, of course, sought to keep preying on us in order to maintain their powers, only to find out the hard way that we were no longer inclined to play that role. According to records, individual Rakshasa were gradually picked off for decades after the battle. But this is where their back was broken, and the foundation of Ganarãjya was laid."

His voice lightened with amusement as he continued. "Of course, people being people, 'sightings' have continued to crop up to this day. Every so often, someone will claim that their neighbor, or a particularly skilled hunter, or some widely-hated merchant, is a secret Rakshasa hiding beneath a veil of illusion. And sometimes, the Akharas will investigate, and inevitably find nothing but the usual undercurrents of jealousy and mistrust that seem to crop up whenever enough people are pushed together. The last confirmed Rakshasa was found - and killed - some 500 years ago. And based on what we know of their lifespan, any other survivors of the old Rakshasa Empire would have simply died from old age by now if they somehow managed to escape our notice."

Straightening, Anitra nodded and flashed a dazzling smile at him. "Fascinating! Truly, there is much history in this place. Oh, I must mention it when I send a message on our progress back to my husband... which I suppose I really should get done, actually. I'm sure we can continue this discussion later, yes?" The Maharajah reassured her that of course, and perhaps she would grace him with her presence at dinner later? A rather less crowded affair this time, he promised. His smile was only ever-so-slightly fixed, barely-perceptible evidence that the implication that her (lack of) progress would be passed on to her presumably-influential husband had hit home. Then, as she started to walk away, she paused and turned back towards him "Ah, I almost forgot! My servants have not had breakfast yet - could you send the usual servant up with something for them? And perhaps a plate of those 'chilies' that were served last night for me - they were quite delicious!" The Maharajah quickly nodded, and gestured to call over one of the servants who had been discreetly hovering just out of earshot. "Oh, but of course. It was... Manushya, yes? The one whom your steed is already comfortable with." She shrugged casually as she started walking again. "Oh, probably... I'm sure you've got a better handle on your servants than I do."

Anitra only just barely had time to return to her chambers, and fill in the rest of the merry band on her recently-acquired intel before a hesitant knock on the door announced Manushya's arrival. On a suitably imperious "Enter!" the door opened, and the girl staggered in while balancing two large trays - one bedecked by freshly-made breakfast-foods that looked only a shade less luxurious than what she had shared with the Maharajah, while the other was loaded up with significantly more chilies than Anitra was likely to eat today... or this week, for that matter. Clearly, the Maharajah - or, more precisely, his kitchen-staff - were going to some pains to ensure they did not come up short.

The serving-girl glanced nervously up at Blake as she deposited the trays on a table, and now that he had mentioned it, Anitra could see it too - it was the wrong sort of fear, more nervousness than primal terror. She then mumbled something along the lines of 'by your leave' under her breath and darted towards the door again, only to be stopped in her tracks by Anitra's voice. "Just a minute, there! Before you go, there's one other thing I would have you do for me." Eyes darting, the girl turned around again and bowed. "What do you require, your ladyship?" An unpleasant smile creased Anitra's lips as she replied. "I want you to show me your true form... Rakshasa."

Gasping, eyes wide with terror, Manushya backed away - a babble of protestations and declarations of innocence on her lips. She stopped only when she realized that Melora - fully-armored and armed at this point - had moved in front of the door and was now standing ready there, glaive lowered. She froze there on the floor, then - eyes darting around in search of an escape-route, but the only other exit was the balcony... the route to which was currently blocked by the vast bulk of Blake's scaly body. Snorting, he rose to his feet and stretched out his long, snakelike neck while lowering his head to her level, glaring directly at her. "Enough. Do not think you can deceive my eyes, or my nose, creature. I can see the glow of the illusion that conceals your true nature - and smell the beast hiding beneath."

Faced with an obviously-annoyed dragon, she finally stopped. Her arms dropped limply to her side, and she dropped to the floor with a resigned sigh, her eyes unfocused with sudden hopelessness. "Fine. I'm not actually a Rakshasa, though. I'm a Raksha_si_, 'cuz I'm a woman and all... not that humans have ever bothered with _that_distinction..." her voice trailed off in a mumble, even as her human features began to waver and fade. The painfully-ordinary servant-girl before them disappeared, leaving in her place something decidedly inhuman. Anitra found herself momentarily reminded of the Valley of Wonder, and Lupus, the wolfen hunter she'd met there. She'd thought him a werewolf at first, but been wrong - a werewolf was the form of the wolf, overlaid on top of a human being. Lupus, however, had been a full-blooded wolf, who had learned to walk upright, talk and think like a human being. This was the same - not merely a human mixed with tiger-blood, but a tiger with the knowledge and skill of a human.

Her features were delicate and feminine - and far more striking than her deliberately-average human appearance. Orange fur with black stripes covered her body, except for the area reaching from her (wet, pink) nose down across her jaw, chest and belly to her crotch, where the orange faded into white. Notably, she was naked but for her fur - the simple dress she had worn as a servant having been, apparently, just as much a part of the illusion as the rest of that form. Blake's eyes almost automatically focused on her newly-revealed semi-nudity, noting both the fact that she had a rather nice, moderately-sized set of breasts (somewhere between Direza's perky pair and Melora's generous endowment), with fleshy nipples peeking out from the fur that covered them. A second, smaller set could be vaguely seen beneath.

The misery was obvious even on her now-feline face as she looked around at them all. "So? You wanted to see me. You have. Now what? Are you going to kill me and take my pelt to his majesty, or would you rather turn me over alive for execution?" Rubbing her face thoughtfully, Anitra looked down at her while exchanging rapid thoughts with Blake, then shrugged. "It's a thought. I'm sure it could buy me some favor with the Maharajah - and, more importantly, with the temple. I bet they'd be very impressed with me for spotting and delivering an ancestral enemy of theirs. And that would help my cause..."

Crouching down in front of Manushya - assuming that was actually her real name - Anitra did her best to look confidently at ease, while simultaneously keeping her muscles bunched for a quick jump back, should this supposedly-deadly creature make a sudden lunge for her. "So... the question, my pet, is whether the services of a Rakshasa - sorry, Rakshasi, wasn't it? - might be _more_useful to my cause, hmm?" A faint glimmer of hope appeared in the girl's amber eyes as she looked up - but then it rapidly disappeared as she barked out a laugh. "Ah! I get it now. You've been listening to his majesty's old war-stories. About the fierce and terrifying Rakshasa, wielders of enormous magical powers... and you think I could use that power in your service? Well, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you on that score. If I had that kind of power, I'd have already turned myself invisible, or distracted you all with an illusion of the palace collapsing, and then flown out the window."

Keeping a straight face as she carefully hid her disappointment, Anitra shrugged. "Well, I doubt you could've gotten past my big, black friend here regardless... but are you saying that the powers of the Rakshasa are nothing more than myth?" The girl shrugged, her shoulder-fur rippling as the sleek, predatory muscles beneath moved. "Well... yes and no. My ancestors really did have powers like that, supposedly, but... only those high-ranking enough to regularly dine on the flesh of sapients. And if you've been listening to the stories, you can no doubt guess how long anyone trying to maintain that sort of cannibalistic diet would last these days."

"But you do seem to have enough power to conceal your true nature behind an illusion..." Anitra pointed out, and Manushya grinned unamusedly in response. "Well, yeah. But for us, that requires only a bare minimum of power. A bit of blood, every week or so, is enough to maintain that. I tend to sneak out of the palace at night once in a while, and find some drunkard asleep in a back alley. A few mouthfuls is all it takes - if they feel weak the next morning, they'll just put it down to the hangover, and the scar down to the results of drunken stumbling. I even bring healing herbs to make sure they don't keep bleeding once I've had my fill. I've never killed anyone, let alone eaten them. Not that anyone would care, if I'm found out. I am Rakshasi, and that alone is a death-sentence."

Anitra hesitated. The bitterness and fatalism in Manushya's voice was enough to make her revise several assumptions. "So... I take it you aren't here to assassinate the Maharajah or anything like that?" she asked bluntly, and the Rakshasi looked up with a bewildered expression. "Assassinate... no! Why would I do that? He's the wisest, kindest ruler this land has seen in a long time! He's even nice to his servants..." her voice trailed off, and then she barked out a laugh. "Oh! I see what you're getting at. Revenge against the remote descendant of the man who destroyed the empire of my remote descendants? Yeah, that'd go over well. He's got no heirs, so the kingdom would be thrown into chaos, then the Temple of Sargonnas would probably seize control, and wouldn't that be grand... oh, and I doubt it would be possible to disguise the fact that a Rakshasi was involved. So there'd be hunts, both official and unofficial, across the kingdom. Probably wipe out what few of us are left."

Sighing, she leaned back against the low table she'd left the food-trays on and looked pleadingly up at Anitra and Blake. "Please... I'm just trying to survive. We all are. Hiding within the human population, sneaking in just enough draughts of blood to maintain our cover... I'm not in the Palace to assassinate, or even spy! It's just a well-paid job, enough so to help support my family." Anitra stroked her chin and flashed a glance over at Blake. She didn't actually need to read his expression, though, since their telepathic bond had already told her that like herself, he saw no signs of duplicity in the girl. Then she sighed and shook her head. "That's all well and good, but hardly any of my business. The question I started out with stands - can you make yourself more useful to me alive rather than dead?"

"But... I told you! I don't have any of those awesome powers you've heard about!" She exclaimed in a high-pitched, increasingly-desperate voice, but Anitra just shook her head. "So? You can still conceal yourself behind illusions. Presumably, you can take whatever form you like, even, and get in just about anywhere. So... if you haven't been spying? Maybe it's time you begun." Manushya hesitated at that, then slowly nodded. "Well... I guess so... I mean, if it'll buy my life, I'll certainly tell you whatever I can find out. But it's mostly just going to be palace gossip. Or... wait, I heard you were here for some secret the Temple's keeping, right?" She shook her head rapidly. "If you were hoping I could just walk right in there and get it for you, forget it! I can take a variety of forms, sure, but I can't disguise the fact that I'm a woman - not without a lot more power than I have right now. And the only women allowed in the temple are young girls being sacrificed to the White Bull... a role that I couldn't play even if I was willing to!"

Anitra sighed, rolling her eyes. "Right, I guess that would be too easy... why would you be unable to play that role, though?" The tiger-girl blinked in surprise, then shrugged. "Oh right, I forgot you're a foreigner... the sacrifices for the White Bull are taken while quite young. Prepubescent. I couldn't change my apparent age that much." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged again. "Well, a while back, there was a girl who actually survived being sacrificed... stayed in the temple 'till she was well into her teens. But stuff like that happens maybe once every few centuries... and the last girl isn't around anymore. She was moved to some secret temple deep in the jungle 'cuz they were afraid all the foreign trade in this city would taint her holiness... then the temple got raided by bandits and she disappeared. Heh. So much for the Blessing of Sargonnas."

Hiding a grin, Anitra casually nodded. She knew exactly what had happened to that particular girl, after all. Then she straightened up, and glanced over at Melora - who was still guarding the door - and remembered the state she'd been in that morning. A smile she couldn't quite hide crept across her lips. She didn't really want to throw this girl to the proverbial lions, especially since she had some empathy with the idea of being a hunted outcast solely by virtue of your birth. But she also wasn't going to let her off cheaply - considering the amount of political capital she could be traded in for, that would just be irresponsible. So she'd spare the girl... and make sure it was worth it.

"Very well, then..." she declared. "We'll keep your secret. In return, you're MINE until we leave. You'll report anything relevant to my quest that reaches your ears, and go wherever I tell you." The girl looked up, hopefulness finally spreading across her feline face. Anitra, though, narrowed her eyes. "Do not think you have gotten off easily, though. Some of your new-found duties, you may find... unpleasant. I'll be dining with the Maharajah again tonight, and at that time I will request that you be assigned to me full-time, to assist my 'lady-in-waiting'. Including sleeping here in my chambers - there is plenty of room, after all - so that I might send you off on nighttime errands if the whim strikes me. Fetching a midnight snack, or whatnot. I'm sure the Maharajah will happily agree - he's eager to please me, after all."

A certain wariness had crept back into the Rakshasi's face by now, and she looked nervously around at the room's four residents. "Right... so you can send me out spying for you at night, or something?" Anitra grinned. "Or something. Now, you'd best slip back into your disguise and be on your way before you're missed. I'll see you tonight - and in the meantime, you should think carefully about everything you know about the Temple and the High Priest. I'll be expecting you to give me every scrap of information that might aid my cause, however tangentially." Getting unsteadily to her feet - well, paws, for the moment - Manushya nodded, and then began to blur. Seconds later, an unassuming servant had taken her place once more, and with a quick, respectful bow, she made rapidly for the door - which Melora was now politely holding open.

Once she was gone, Melora and Direza settled down to eat the breakfast that had served to well as an excuse to get Manushya up there, while Anitra snacked on the chilies and chatted with Blake about how to best take advantage of their new 'ally'... beyond the obvious. As she enjoyed the feeling of intense heat spreading through her mouth, she glanced down at the huge tray of the bright-red things, and on a whim, offered a handful to Blake. Sniffing interestedly at them, he shrugged. "Hmph. I don't usually eat vegetables, but these have an intriguing scent... and I suppose just a few wouldn't hurt." The chilies quickly disappeared into his maw, where his large fangs turned them to mush, and he nodded appreciatively. "I see, I see! Their touch feels like fire, but there is no actual heat... very pleasant! I can see why you like them."

A glimmer of mischief appeared in his eyes, and he lifted his head to call Melora - who had just emptied the breakfast-tray's fruit-bowl - over to his side. As she obediently stood before him, he grinned down at her and swallowed the mouthful of chilies he'd just been chewing on. "Ah, my dear... lift your skirt for me. I want to taste you." A slight blush of arousal peeked through the short coat covering her cheeks, and she swiftly obeyed, lifting the heavy, metal-plated skirt to reveal that she was still following Blake's standing orders and avoiding any sort of underwear. Lowering his head, Blake paused briefly to sniff at her labia - which were already becoming dewed with swift-flowing juices - before lashing out his tongue to lick the length of her slit.

She smiled widely at this loving caress... for all of half a second. Then her eyes widened and her legs shook, her hands nearly letting go of the heavy skirt. Blake chuckled and licked again, his chili-coated tongue tracing the outline of her labia and slithering across her clit. The mare's shuddering redoubled as the false heat of the spices assailed her most sensitive parts, though considering her well-trained masochism, it wasn't entirely clear how much of that shuddering was from the pain, and how much from the associated pleasure...

"Oh, I like these things! So much potential!" Blake laughed, reaching for the tray and swiftly impaling four chilies on his talons. Anitra nodded, gazing from the tray to the shuddering Melora with growing arousal. Why hadn't she seen those possibilities for herself? Too busy playing politics, probably. Reminded of this, and despite really wanting nothing more than to join in with these experiments, she quickly interjected "Don't forget that I'll be needing my 'bodyguard' in one piece today, please!" Blake nodded, a bit too casually if she had to say, his face screwed up with concentration as he used another one of his claws to bisect each of the chilies he'd collected right down the middle. "I know, I know... I just thought I'd give her something to remember me by during the day..."

Later on, during dinner, things proceeded pretty much as planned with the Maharajah. She'd barely started complaining about how hard it was for her lone lady-in-waiting to see to her needs by herself - getting around by dragon certainly had its upsides, but it did limit how much staff you could bring - before he offered to 'lend' her Manushya full-time. The rest of the dinner passed with good food - much of it quite spicy, the Maharajah's chefs having apparently taken their guest's love of chilies as a challenge - along with some basic plans for the ongoing campaign. By his suggestion, she would shortly be sending some very nice presents to a handful of wealthy merchants in the city who generally donated very generously to the Temple of Sargonnas. The gifts would include some carefully-worded missives, and with any luck, the Temple would shortly afterwards find that donations had dropped off steeply. "Even the most spiritually-inclined must eat..." the Maharajah commented as he gazed thoughtfully at a chunk of stir-fried chicken impaled on his fork.

Then, his eyebrows creased, and he leaned conspiratorially across the table. "By the way, do you have some concerns about security here? Your bodyguard seems... jumpy today." Anitra glanced over at Melora, who was shifting her weight constantly from one hoof to another, the glaive in her hand weaving slightly as she tightened and relaxed her grip on its haft every few seconds. Affecting an incurious expression, she then shrugged and waved around at the enclosed garden where they were dining - filled with exquisitely-maintained bushes and flowerbeds, as well as several highly decorative songbirds. "Oh, she always gets a bit twitchy when I spend too long in open spaces like this. Worrying about all the places a prospective assassin with a crossbow could shoot me from. I'm sure she knows perfectly well that your security is rock-solid, but being paranoid is what she's paid for, so I can hardly blame her for doing her job..."

Needless to say, she did not think it wise to tell the Maharajah that Melora's twitchiness was largely down to the handful of carved-open chili-peppers stuffed deep inside her pussy, spreading a false sensation of nerve-rending heat throughout the sensitive tissue. Not to mention the carefully-cut slice of the same affixed to her clit like a ring, and a slender pepper (with several holes jabbed in it to let the juices seep out) jammed clean up her urethra so that only the stalk poked out. Her entire groin-area had to feel like it was on fire - only her asshole had been left untouched by the spicy vegetables, and even that was largely just because of Blake's stated intention of bending her over and pounding that particular orifice as soon as she returned to their shared chambers.

The dinner ended otherwise uneventfully, if deliciously. The Maharajah reassured her that he was doing everything he could to get through to the recalcitrant High Priest, she handed over another small trinket for him (or rather, Direza did, at her direction) - a nice little ruby-and-pearl brooch - to make her 'money is no object' point afresh, and they briefly discussed what other palms might need to be greased. Though, when she mentioned - in passing - that her 'steed' had taken a surprising liking to the native chili-peppers of Ganarãjya, he did seem inordinarily pleased, whether out of national pride or because he saw a (quite real) potential for a new export-business. He then declared that he'd ensure that Blake was kept supplied with as many chilies as he could possibly desire (which made Melora twitch a little bit more energetically), calling over a nearby servant to command that a hefty amount of the spicy vegetable should be added to the cartload of fine meats that was about to be sent up to their chambers for the dragon's dinner.

After that, there was little left but to exchange a few polite platitudes with the Maharajah and return to their temporary den, hoping that the information Manushya was supposed to bring later would prove to bear more fruit than the ongoing political campaign. Fortunately, she did not have to wait long, since it was, of course, Manushya who was bringing the heavily-loaded cart of meat, chilies and dinner for Melora and Direza. The disguised Rakshasi looked obviously nervous and ill at ease as she was let into the chambers by Direza, and even more so when the doors closed behind her. At that point, however, her nervousness turned into something else, as she saw what was going on at the huge bed.

Melora was bent over the edge of it, her armored skirt bunched around her hooves and her armor otherwise untouched. Her muscular buttocks and thighs were twitching powerfully as Blake mercilessly pounded her ass, and strange grimaces of mixed agony and ecstasy chased each other across her equine face. Normally, it would take something a lot bigger and a lot rougher going up her ass to even raise an eyebrow - but then, normally, the entry wasn't being eased by an improvised lubricant made up of chewed chilies mixed with dragon-spit. A fair layer of the red mush was caked around her sphincter, and an even redder color could be seen through her brown coat, spreading like an angry rash out from it. Considering the way the rough granules of the 'lubricant' would be tearing microscopic rends in her insides, ensuring that the unnatural heat got the best possible chances of affecting her fully, Blake's cock had to feel like a pillar of molten steel right now.

Manushya gaped as she beheld this spectacle, and Anitra grinned as she shucked off her fancy dress to reveal the skimpy armor underneath. "Surprised, are you? You're not the only one in this palace who is more than she appears. Since I know I can count on your... discretion at this point, I see no reason to hide these matters from you. My steed and I have a very close relationship... and my 'bodyguard' also provides him with an outlet for his desires. As my 'maidservant' provides for me..." By way of demonstration, she casually pulled Direza into a sudden embrace and planted a deep, intense kiss on the Drow's dark lips, delighting in the way the lithe, subtle body clung to her own - so eager and pliable...

Once she broke the kiss, however, she saw something that made her lift an eyebrow. While the girl stared wide-eyed a the other four residents of the room, her disguise faded - revealing the tigress underneath, who looked no less dumbstruck. Indeed, she was blushing fiercely enough for it to be visible through her fur - at least, the white parts. A sneaking suspicion appeared in her head. "You don't have much experience with this, do you?" she asked, drawing the obviously-embarrassed girl's attention back to herself. "Because if your concentration slips... your disguise does too." Blinking, the Rakshasi looked down at herself and winced, before slowly nodding. "Yeah... we... well, can't risk being with humans, because of that. And the only Rakshasa I've ever known have all been members of my immediate family."

An ever-so-slightly nasty smile spread across Anitra's face. "So you're a virgin. Never been kissed, even. Am I wrong?" Manushya had barely managed to mumble out a "Well, no..." before Anitra was on her, pulling her in close and pressing her lips against the feline muzzle. Parted as it was in the midst of now-muffled words, her tongue easily darted inside to caress the sharp fangs that lined it, even as her hands reached down to cup the muscular pair of buttocks the tigress had been hiding under her unassuming disguise. Her fingertips caressed the base of the girl's tail, while the heavy rings in her pierced nipples dug into the thin fur covering the upper set of the feline breasts now squeezed tightly against them.

She held the girl just long enough to determine that she wasn't struggling - beyond an early, purely instinctive attempt to pull away form her sudden (and no-doubt unexpectedly swift) advance - nor making any attempt to put her predatory fangs to use against Anitra's defenseless tongue, then let her go and stepped back, breaking contact. Manushya swayed slightly on her paws, her blush taking on different connotations all of a sudden, and her eyes seemed unfocused. Apparently, getting a sampling of Anitra's extensive kissing-experience for her first taste had left her somewhat frazzled. "There - that takes care of that bit, at least..." she said, winking at the girl who responded by rapidly blinking and shaking her head to clear it. Her mouth then opened and closed a few times, as if she searched for a suitable reply and came up empty.

Laughing, Anitra swept a hand towards a couple of comfy chairs positioned around a snack-tray. "Well, now that that's out of the way... have a seat, and tell me what you know about the temple, the High Priest, and anything else relevant to my quest here. Don't mind the lovebirds on the bed, they'll be a while longer, I suspect." Manushya nodded automatically, clearly still trying to refocus her mind, and followed the gesture. Anitra, meanwhile, paused briefly to flash a grin over at Blake, who had lifted his head to glance at Manushya's back - and the swaying ass beneath it - with a hungry look in his eyes. Clearly, he was not so occupied with tortuously ass-fucking Melora that he hadn't picked up the bit about the girl's lack of experience...

What _is _ it about virgins that gets you so excited?_she asked him over their telepathic link as she sat down in front of Manushya and told her to start talking. _I remember it from back in the Utopia too - the other dragonesses had to fight for your favor, but the virgins got a free pass. It didn't take long for his reply to come in, largely unmuddled by his current activities. Heh. I don't rightly know, myself. Not like it _ feels__ any different, really - tight, usually, sure, but it's not like tightness is in short supply for a creature my size who isn't too bothered about crossing the species-barrier. I think it might just be the... rarity. A girl's only got one 'first time' to give, and that alone makes it a valuable resource. Maybe that's just how my draconic greed expresses itself, 'stead of being a thirst for gold and gems!_Anitra replied with a mental laugh, even as she started to shift her attention to Manushya, who was providing the 'servant's perspective' on the High Priest of Sargonnas - understandably rather different from the perspective of a sage or a Maharajah.

Sadly, her accounts revealed no key weaknesses or secret indiscretions that could've been used to apply pressure to the High Priest... indeed, by all accounts, he was a saintly old man. Well, 'saintly' in the sense of someone leading the worship of a god of blood, fire and vengeance, who enjoys the perverted sacrifice of young girls to his glory. Which wasn't very saintly at all by the standards of large reams of the world, but that didn't really help any in this case. At best, Manushya's various anecdotes supplied a couple of promising leads in terms of merchants and nobles who were closely - if subtly - connected to the Temple. So applying pressure to them would apply pressure to the temple by extension. But it was hardly the wallbreaker Anitra had been hoping for.

She'd kept half an eye on the ongoing scene on the bed during the conversation - and wasn't the only one, either. She'd had to refocus Manushya's attention on her a few times. It had been over an hour by now, but Blake was still going strong - well, he'd ended the chili-hot ass-reaming, after depositing a couple of loads deep in Melora's belly, but then things had escalated further. After all, Melora's usual next duty would be to clean his cock. The scent and taste of her own freshly-fucked ass never seemed to bother her much, but in this case, his cock was still caked with a smeared-on layer of chili-mush. Apparently, that had a much more severe impact on her tongue. So she'd failed to lick her Master's cock clean like she was supposed to, and after a few abortive attempts, Blake had relented and let her clean him off with a wet towel... before settling down to punish her suitably for her failure. It was at this point that the action had moved away from the bed.

Several large candles had been collected from wall-sconces around the room, and lined up on the floor before being collectively lit by a well-aimed breath from Blake. Melora was standing over the row, her hands tied behind her back, and as penalty for her failure had been ordered to put out the candles... using her pussy. Thus, said Blake, would she learn greater heat-tolerance. As the conversation at the snack-table petered out, Anitra half-turned in her seat to watch Melora take a shaky step forwards, positioning her already wax-spattered cunt above the next candle in line, and with a sharp intake of breath, squatted down. The tip of the candle disappeared between the folds of her labia with a slight sizzle, and a line of white smoke rose to hug her curves on its way to the ceiling.

Now, unlike the half-horrified, half-fascinated Manushya, Anitra knew enough about how fire behaved to realize that Melora wasn't in nearly as much pain as the dramatic display would seem to suggest. Her wet labia would be just as efficient as a pair of wet fingers at snuffing out the small candle-flames, and she wasn't likely to suffer any kind of actual burns. Which was not to say that she wasn't in a rather nasty predicament - heat does, after all, rise. So every time she had to position herself above a candle and squat down on it, her groin had to handle the column of heat rising from the flame during the entire process... and if she took too long, the candles would start burning low enough that she wouldn't be able to extinguish them with a squat. She'd have to get all the way down on her knees to accomplish it, which would be a difficult maneuver with her hands tied behind her back, and thus expose her to the heat for even longer. Add to that the fact that the candles were closely enough spaced that her clit was getting significant convection-heat off of the next flame in line whenever she was squatting over a candle, and Melora was in a very good position indeed to intimately learn the difference in sensation between the false-heat of the chilies, and the genuine heat of the candle-flames...

Noticing that Manushya was looking increasingly panicky, she put a firm hand on the girl's shoulder - which made her jump noticeably. "Easy there, girl. Don't get the wrong idea. It might look scary, but Blake is only doing it because she actually enjoys it. Heck, I can't say it doesn't hold some... appeal to me, too. Might seem strange, but... there are all kinds of people in this world." She winked at the young Rakshasi, who looked back at her with an expression of mild disbelief. "So don't worry..." she continued. "He won't do something like that to you." Manushya's feline face fell at this, and she stared at Anitra with horror in her eyes. "To me... what... what do you mean?!? You can't really suggest..." Anitra, however, just shrugged, maintaining her grip on the other girl's shoulder. "Sure I can. Blake here, he's pretty insatiable. And he's also bored, being cooped up like this all day and all night. Being a dragon, he doesn't need much sleep, you see. Now, Melora is doing her best to keep him sated, but she does need her sleep, especially if she is to maintain her role as a dedicated, hard-assed bodyguard."

The last bit she directed towards Blake, accompanied by a sharp glare, and he rolled his eyes and nodded before delivering a rumbling reply. "Yes, yes, I know... I'll let her rest after this, promise. Seems like I'll have... other things to do, anyway." He briefly affixed Manushya with a lusty gaze, licking his lips, before returning to keeping a close eye on Melora's progress along the line of candles, clearly enjoying the perverted display. "But... but... there's no way that'll work! I'm not a mare, I'm just... my powers are purely illusional, you know that, right? I can't actually shape-shift, I've still got the same body underneath..." Manushya was rambling now, her body shaking, but she hadn't actually tried to bolt yet, which was an optimistic detail. Anitra, meanwhile, just lifted an eyebrow and gestured to Direza. "Oh, don't you worry about that. I've got you covered..."

A small bottle of dark glass appeared from a pocket of Direza's robes. It was mostly on a whim Anitra had decided to bring it - she'd put in an order with a visiting Alchemist, and received it just before they were due to leave. Unwilling to wait 'till they got home to try it out, she'd decided to bring it and look for an opportunity to put it to the test... which had presented itself very conveniently indeed. The recipe she'd handed the Alchemist was, of course, from the Library of the Obscene... a somewhat specialized variant of the already-rather-obscure Potion of Elasticity. While the effects were still inferior to her own inherent powers, it could induce superhuman elasticity in and around the genitals. Enough so to allow a (sort of) ordinary girl to handle something the size and girth of Blake's cock without tearing...

Explaining this, Anitra shook the bottle in front of Manushya, listening to the thick fluid within slosh about. "It only takes a small sip, and the effects last for at least eight hours. Should be enough in this bottle for four, five nights' worth. Beyond that, well... perhaps you should take it as an added motivation for helping us achieve our goal here as soon as possible." Manushya looked at the bottle and slowly nodded, swallowing hard. Then a groan caught both their attentions, and they turned, as one, to watch Melora complete her punishment. The last candle had, indeed, managed to burn down too far for her to squat over it, so she had dropped fully down to her knees - with legs well-spread, at that - in one smooth movement. The candle was thus not merely extinguished, but buried deep in her pussy - where the molten wax of the tip clearly created some interesting sensations for the dedicated masochist.

Blake nodded down at her with a possessive grin, and ran two talons through her mane. "Well done, my sweet... you have handled your punishment with aplomb, and redeemed yourself. Rise, and let Direza see to what injuries you have sustained - then rest well, that you may serve me again tomorrow." A whispered, arcane word from him undid the magical bindings that had held her hands behind her back, even as she beamed up at him with the simple joy of a submissive who has been acknowledged by her master. Direza then lent her an arm as she staggered to her feet - or rather, hooves - even as she subvocalized a prayer to Lolth, which was answered (albeit weakly) despite her apostasy. Channeled and magnified through the holy foci hanging around her neck, the simple healing-spell she produced was enough to wipe away the aftereffects of chili-induced chemical burn and close contact with candles alike, leaving Melora as if untouched by her harsh master's perversions... save for, perhaps, the coating of now-dried wax around her labia, and deeper inside. She'd have some fun getting that off, Anitra suspected - but not tonight.

The horse-girl had gotten little sleep the previous night, and spent most of the day walking around in heavy armor playing bodyguard... only the desire that Blake had inspired in her had kept her going, and now that the night's entertainment was over, she basically just staggered over to the bed and keeled over, snoring almost before she hit the sheets. Smiling tolerantly down at the sleeping mare, Blake carefully lifted a blanket over her - cutting only one or two tiny holes in it in the process, as the fabric failed to stand up to his razor-sharp talons - and nodded. "Well, she's certainly earned her rest... quite a show she put on. Now, then..." His reptilian eyes panned to Manushya, who stiffened under his gaze. "...perhaps it is time to induct the newest - if temporary - member of our traveling orgy."

Anitra wondered what was going through Manushya's head as the young Rakshasi sat frozen in her seat for several long seconds, then reluctantly reached for the proffered bottle. She was obviously caught between a rock and a hard place - literally, seeing as Blake's cock was visibly hardening at the prospect of taking her virginity - but Anitra had a feeling there was something else underneath. It was clear to her by now that the Ganarãjyans were far less uptight than she'd first assumed - they had strict rules of proper dress, but those only applied in public. In private, as the Maharajah himself had mentioned, there were few rules and fewer taboos. Indeed, her tours of the palace artwork had included a number of rather explicit pieces, including an extensive bas-relief featuring what could only be described as a seven-story orgy. Which, she'd noticed, had included a handful of farm-animals.

So clearly, they were a vivacious, sex-positive people. For a young woman like Manushya to live amongst them in enforced celibacy, unable to take the risk of accepting any 'invitation', even if she really wanted to, had to have built up a certain amount of... pressure. So she was not all that surprised when the girl took a swig of the potion-bottle without further objections, beyond grimacing slightly at the taste. Her breathing was rapid, her pupils dilated, and the blush that had become visible even through her fur when she'd first entered was as strong as ever, making her chest seem vaguely pink. While the circumstances were, perhaps, rather less than ideal... it was clear that the prospect of losing her virginity excited her almost as much as it did Blake.

Nodding at Manushya's sudden pliability, Blake then glanced over at Anitra with an inquisitively-raised eyebrow. "Now, if memory serves... it'll take a few minutes to take effect, no?" Already seeing where he was going with it - and not because they'd planned it out telepathically, either - Anitra grinned and nodded. Her big, scaly lover returned the grin, and shifted his huge body to make more room on the oversized bed. "Well, then, how about you and Direza spend that time getting her... warmed up for me, hmm?" Nodding eagerly, she grabbed the still-hesitant Rakshasi by the shoulder again and half-pulled, half-guided her over to the bed, while Direza quickly stoppered the potion-bottle and stashed it in her robes... before shrugging them off altogether, leaving them bunched on the floor. Back in the Dragon Utopia, doing so would have left her gloriously naked, but now, instead, it revealed a mithril mail-shirt reaching down to mid-thigh, and the two jewel-inlaid bracers she wore, thrumming with magical energy.

Direza eagerly started pulling off her armor - which would, admittedly, be likely to get in the way - but Anitra was already good for action, her armor being essentially designed to be unencumbering in bed as on the battlefield. So without waiting for the eager Drow, she pulled Manushya the rest of the way to the bedside, spun her around and gave her a quick shove so that she stumbled back until her shins hit the edge of the bed and collapsed backwards onto the sheets. Before she could recover her equilibrium, Anitra was between her legs, battle-hardened hands gripping her thighs tightly and pushing them apart to reveal the virgin honeypot hiding between them, peeking out from the downy white fur.

Needless to say, Anitra had never gone down on a Rakshasi before... but if there were any real differences from the pussies she'd closely examined before, they clearly weren't big enough to render her extensive experience in the art of cunnilingus moot. Then again, Manushya obviously didn't have much (or any) prior experience from which to critique the oral symphony that was now being unleashed on her unprepared genitals. Anitra's tongue dug greedily into the folds, pushing past the thin labia and into the orifice beyond, getting her first taste of Rakshasi pussy-juice - it was almost savory, with some bitter undertones. Perhaps not surprising, seeing as the Rakshasa in general obviously were exclusively carnivorous...

Manushya was already moaning and arching her back by the time Direza joined them, now perfectly naked, her ebony-black skin gleaming in the candlelight (Blake having fortunately left most of the ensconced illumination alone). Seeing that her Mistress had already laid claim to the most important part of their target, she wasted no time diving for the secondary objectives. Her delicate lips encircled one of the tiger-girl's nipples, sucking gently as she teased it with her tongue, and at the same time her fingers fluttered around to rub, pinch and generally stimulate the other three - indeed, even the fact that she had twice the number of targets from what she was used to didn't make her miss a beat. Her naked body moved sinuously against the overwhelmed Rakshasi, smooth skin rubbing against soft fur...

The combined assault was definitely having an impact - Manushya's juices were beginning to flow steadily, moistening her increasingly-engorged labia, and wetting Anitra's tongue. Already, the first vague, tingling vestiges of a Quickening were beginning to creep up her spine - she knew from experience that she wouldn't get much more than that from a plain pussy-licking session, and found herself wondering what kind of power she might've derived from a full-on Rakshasa-induced Quickening. And whether they had the same sort of delightfully stimulating 'barbs' on their cocks as the tiger she'd made the acquaintance of back in Mirage City. Perhaps there'd be a chance to Manushya to introduce her to some of those male family-members she'd mentioned earlier at some point...

For now, though, her prodding fingers were telling her that the 'warm-up' had served its purpose. Manushya's tight, taut labia were becoming unnaturally elastic, stretching easily as Anitra pulled at them, and she easily pushed several fingers inside, making the tiger-girl moan. Eager to test the limits of the potion, she moved her juice-covered fingers a notch further down, while continuing her oral assault at the same time. The girl's virgin sphincter opened with remarkable ease before the well-lubricated digits, and one or two soon turned to four or five. Then the hilt of her hand followed, and despite rather rudimentary lubrication at that joint, it slipped smoothly inside. Manushya's sleek body jumped on the sheets as she felt the unfamiliar stretching, and a drawn-out groan escaped her lips.

Delighted to see that the potion was, if anything, working even _better_than expected, she started to slowly pump her hand, moving her fingers around inside. The utter lack of lubrication around her wrist prevented her from pushing any deeper, but she was still generating a lot of stimulation, and only Direza's recent move from nipple to lips was preventing the girl's groans and moans from rising steadily in volume. The lithe Drow was basically lying across the tiger-girl's prone body by now, rubbing her crotch against a fur-covered arm as she passionately kissed her inexperienced partner, her hands roaming around to touch, tickle, rub, pinch, squeeze and generally stimulate every interesting bit of vibrant flesh she could reach. Encouraged by this display, Anitra redoubled her own oral effort, drilling her tongue into the increasingly-loose pussy, being rewarded by a gush of savory juices...

A rumbling throat-clearing from behind interrupted her, and she lifted her face - warm juices dripping from her chin - to see Blake's narrow, reptilian head hovering by her shoulder with one scaly eyebrow lifted. Grinning, she wiped her face with the back of her hand, and nodded. "Ah, yes. I suppose she's... suitably warmed up for you at this point. Direza, you'd best untangle yourself too..." The Drow elf was clearly just as reluctant as herself to interrupt the heated session, but obediently followed her mistress' command and rolled off the bed. Manushya remained where she was, draped across the edge of the bed with her legs spread wide, breathing heavily and twitching slightly, her clawed fingers digging rhythmically into the sheets.

As Anitra and Direza scrambled aside, Blake took their place, his massive frame covering the tiger-girl completely. Between his hind legs, his cock was dangling thick and hard, thanks in no small part to the lesbian threesome he'd just been watching. His talons pierced the sheets and the mattress beneath as he sought a good grip, and his tail lifted for balance. He paused, then, and beneath his groin, his prehensile cock swung back and forth to touch both of Maushya's thighs, brushing lightly across her soft fur as he got his bearings. Once he was sure of her position, the conical tip of his tool lowered itself and centered unerringly on the warm, moist, by-now-quite-flexible orifice between her legs.

A muffled, drawn-out moan could be heard from beneath him as he pushed steadily forwards, entering her. Despite the vast lubrication and magically-enhanced elasticity, his sheer girth still made for rough going, and her ass began to slide slowly back across the smooth sheets. Blake, however, noticed this, and carefully bent his forelegs, closing the last bit of distance between their bodies. He wasn't resting his full weight on her, of course, but just enough of his mass to trap her body between him and the bed, holding her in place as he flexed his hips and thrust deeper. A strangled groan escaped his scaly lips as the extreme tightness embraced more and more of his cock, and he had to forcibly remind himself to take it easy - despite the potion, his partner's body still had some very real limits, and he didn't want to break her the first time he played with her...

Meanwhile, Anitra had divested herself of her armor and retreated with Direza to an opulently-upholstered couch, which had been turned to provide audience seating for the show. Sitting close together, their fingers were buried in one another's hot snatches and their lips frequently came together in intense, tongue-wrestling kisses. Their eyes, however, were glued to the bed, where they could look between Blake's strong hind-legs to see the lower half of Manushya as she lost her virginity in magnificent style. Her legs were trembling and jerking randomly, her tail lashing around like a whip, and the fur at its base was matted by a steady stream of pussy-juice. Her obscenely-stretched pussy-lips were bulging around Blake's huge erection, but there was no sign of tearing, nor a drop of blood in appearance. The potion had done its job. As they watched, the sight was eclipsed by the scaly bulge of Blake's ballsack, and they knew that her lithe body had somehow managed to absorb his huge tool right to the root.

Underneath the mass of black scales and violent, barely-constrained lust, Manushya was going crazy. She'd longed to rid herself of her virginity for years, her body straining for release every time she had to turn down the propositions of some handsome young human. She'd learned how to please herself with her fingers, of course, but it was a shallow sort of pleasure, a vague climax that only served to remind her of what she could not have. She'd frequently thought of going a bit deeper... certainly, there were any number of discreet shops off the main market-street where various 'bedroom aids' could be purchased at very reasonable prices. (And slightly-less-discreet shops off the upper end of the main market-street where toys of ivory or gold, encrusted with smooth, semi-precious gemstones, could be bought at far less reasonable prices.) But her virginity was proof that she had not given in to temptation and risked the lives of her entire family for a quick lay - as it was, she'd have a lot of explaining to do, but at least she had a proper excuse.

But now, the pleasure she had longed for for so long was there. The sensation of her pussy being filled, stretched, entered... her physical maidenhead being torn apart by the widening even before her lover's immense tool actually reached it. She'd barely even noticed the vague, momentary sting as it happened. The whole lower half of her body was singing with unfamiliar sensations, and her pleasure-starved mind was eagerly lapping it up, getting used to the feeling of being thoroughly and properly fucked. Which was where the 'going crazy' bit came in, unfortunately...

The Potion of Sexual Flexibility, as described in a book about sexual alchemy from the Library of the Obscene, was vastly superior to a normal (and still fairly obscure) Potion of Elasticity for its purpose. A Potion of Elasticity could allow for otherwise-impossible levels of stretching for the orifices, but the effects were largely limited to the surface, which had a number of unfortunate implications when it came to sexual intercourse with a serious size-difference. For starters, the internal organs would be likely to get bruised and shoved around, which would be excruciatingly painful, and various internal bits would be more liable to break than to stretch. The Potion of Sexual Flexibility resolved this by essentially allowing for the internal organs to be safely and painlessly 'rearranged' by a suitably oversized intruder, but as the recipe warned, 'painless' is not the same thing as 'without sensation'.

So what Manushya was currently experiencing was not just her pussy being invaded and stimulated, but her whole body being reshaped and rearranged to make room for the invader. And unlike Anitra, she didn't have a brain and a nervous-system designed to handle something like that. So even as she was experiencing her first proper screwing, she was also absorbing the impossible sensation of having something improbably huge inside her. She could feel it all - her stomach and intestines being pushed down towards her spine, her uterus and ovaries drifting higher and higher, eventually resting between her lungs... the skin on her stomach deforming in the shape of a draconic cock... sensations that should not be possible, let alone pleasurable. If anything, the closest approximation should be tearing, life-threatening agony.

The book had warned that it was inadvisable for someone without decent sexual experience to use the potion for its designed purpose, since doing so could imbue them with 'a skewered impression of sexuality'. Anitra thought that sounded like splendid sport indeed, and had consequently ignored it. So as Blake - having achieved full penetration and rested there for a half-minute to let his partner adjust to him - began to pound her properly, and the first orgasm rolled through her overwhelmed mind like a platoon of elephant-cavalry, she was marked for life. Ever after, she would be unable to achieve a vaginal orgasm without being impaled on an inhumanly huge, limit-of-her-body's-capacity cock. Her body simply did not respond to the sensation of a normal penetration, despite its physical dimensions snapping back to normal as soon as the potion wore off. A normal dick filling her pussy - even what most would call a 'big one' - could not induce all of the sensations that she had now come to associate with 'sex'.

Of course, considering the general Ganarãjyan attitude towards sex - which basically boiled down to 'you can do whatever you like, so long as you don't do it in the streets and scare the elephants' - that might not have been as much of a problem as it would have elsewhere. The jungle nation was short on horses (and elephants were definitely a step too far, at least without easy access to the Potion of Sexual Flexibility), but due to the worship of Sargonnas, bulls were in plentiful supply. She could easily have found an array of bovine lovers with suitable equipment, and a combination of determination and youthful vigor would have made her capable of handling their girth as well as their vast, physical strength even without any magical aid. She could even have passed it off as an expression of faith if anyone noticed. Though, of course, the precarious conditions of her race - with the resulting expectations of bearing as many kittens as possible, once a suitable husband could be found - would have been a complication... but as it happened, later events would render the entire issue moot, and turn her newfound propensity for extremely well-equipped lovers into a notable boon. Which is not to say that she never wound up getting banged by a bull, just that it would be significantly later, and not for lack of numerous alternatives.

For now, though, all that was still in the future. The present consisted of her being immobilized by the vast mass of a black-scaled dragon as he mercilessly pounded her pussy, all thoughts of restraint disappearing as he ascended towards his own climax. She, meanwhile, was too hypnotized by the steady string of orgasms rattling through her body to notice or care about his roughness - not that she would have had any way to stop him if she did. She did, however, notice when he came - a torrent of thick, hot dragon-cum blasting into her, filling her displaced womb like a fleshy balloon before running out of space there and beginning to run back along the sides of the still-thrusting cock. The pressure of this flow forced her belabored pussy to stretch just a little bit more in circumference, sending fresh shocks of unnatural pleasure through her, even as the goopy liquid began to leak out between her taut labia, staining the fur on her tail and running down it to pool on the floor.

As Blake continued to thrust, the sound thereof became obscenely slimy and quite noisy - which suited Anitra and Direza well, since they'd given up on watching and had to satisfy themselves with just the sound-effects. They were busily sixty-nineing on the couch, heads buried between one another's thighs, licking and sucking with frenzied desire. Anitra was, of course, on top, and enjoyed pushing her wet snatch into Direza's face with enough force to leave the elf-girl lightheaded with lack of oxygen, while occasionally lifting her own head from between her partner's eagerly-spread legs to take a quick glance at the ongoing jackhammer-pounding Blake was dishing out to his helpless lover.

They were still going at it half an hour later, when Blake (who had been pacing himself with practiced ease) shot his second load and decided it was time to switch holes. Manushya was, by then, practically catatonic - twitching and gasping beneath him in a pleasure-induced trance. She barely reacted when he pulled out, releasing a torrent of freshly-deposited sperm from her well-fucked pussy - so many orgasms had washed over her during the pounding she'd received that she'd need ten minutes just to catch up on the backlog. Her puffy, bright-red labia - quite different from the thin, taut pair she'd been sporting before tonight - pulled themselves back into shape with supernatural speed, slowing the flow of escaping cum. Enough had already escape to pool in significant quantity around her tailhole, though, so lubricant was far from in shortage as Blake directed his still-hard cock an inch or so lower than before and began to push forwards again.

Her ass - as magically flexible as her pussy - expanded easily as Blake's conical cockhead pushed inside it, and barely a twitch went through her as her sphincter expanded to a circumference equal to her upper arms. The intestines beyond put up a bit more resistance, but only a bit, and Blake grunted in surprise as he felt himself slide deeper and deeper, her colon rearranging itself in a straight line to accommodate him. Even through the fog of lust and desire, he could tell that it was going surprisingly easily - heck, _Melora's_ass didn't swallow him up so eagerly, though of course, she didn't have the benefit of a certain potion, either. Maybe that potion just hadn't quite reached its full effectiveness when he took her first virginity? He stashed away the question-mark for later, and focused instead on enjoying the hot tightness enclosing his wet cock. Then he started to thrust, sending new surges of orgasmic twitching through the overwhelmed tiger-girl.

This, Anitra couldn't resist watching. Confident that she'd already doled out a fair share of orgasms to her eager partner, she shifted her stance, pushing herself up so that she was sitting astride Direza's head. The elf-girl didn't miss a beat - with the changed angle, her tongue merely started digging into Anitra's sphincter instead of her pussy, eager as always to taste her Mistress' asshole. Anitra, meanwhile, let her fingers tickle and tease the Drow-elf's black skin, caressing her stomach, ribs and pert little breasts, while staying clear of the almost-visibly-throbbing gap between her legs. She'd really been too generous with the orgasms of late - it was time to tease her submissive servant a bit again. And meanwhile, her new vantage let her watch with rapt attention as Blake drilled into the Rakshasi's once-tiny asshole with brutal strength...

It was nearly six hours later before Blake's virility and raw stamina finally ran out. By then, Anitra and Direza were asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms - and Melora had managed to sleep through the whole thing, and was still snoring quietly right next to the tireless couple. Though, really, the only reason Manushya was still awake was a combination of having been halfway unconscious for much of the session, and the sheer amount of hormonal energy that the endless succession of orgasms had imbued her with. Her pussy, ass and even her throat had all been fucked raw by then - the potion's effect covered the throat and neck as well, as it turned out. It did not, however, give her the ability to breathe with two feet of arm-thick cock lodged down her gullet, though, so she'd been forced to rapidly learn the art of breathing in time with her partner's thrusts.

She'd also gotten a crash course in ass-to-mouth, helped along by the fact that she was barely conscious of what she was doing the first time. Or, for that matter, the next couple of times. Towards the end, as Blake's ardor cooled and the pace of the lovemaking began to slow, she'd been fucked into a sort of half-awake state - conscious, despite her heavy-lidded eyes, but not thinking too clearly, and easily overwhelmed by Blake's sheer force of personality. She was lazily licking his softening cock, now, fresh from yet another fierce ass-fucking - not that it tasted like much other than his strong cum. Whatever flavorful bits her intestines had once contained had been washed out during earlier sessions, and wound up either in the puddle on the floor or in her belly. Said belly was also still bulging out as if she was mildly pregnant, being another beneficiary of the flexibility-potion, and currently containing several gallons of thick, juicy cum - deposited liberally from both ends of her digestive system.

As she licked, her rough tongue sending little shudders of pleasure through Blake despite his exhaustion, he ran a careful talon through her head-fur and grinned down at her. He recognized her current state of mind - or lack of same - and knew that she'd be unlikely to be able to lie effectively. "Little one... when I entered your ass the first time, I noticed that it went rather easily..." he growled down at her, and she looked up with a semi-aware expression on her face. "Tell me - did you have prior experience there?" He was only halfway surprised when she nodded once, then went back to licking his sensitive cockmeat. "Tell me about it..." he implored.

Her voice was muffled, both from fatigue and the fact that she was basically talking between licks, but the night was quiet and his ears were sharp. "Oh... well, I have an older brother... he's in the same situation I was. Couldn't get any release. I wanted to help him, but couldn't risk getting pregnant. Inbreeding is a real concern for us. So I let him... use my ass, when he needed to. I'd heard about it before - it's a common way for us common folks to avoid unwanted pregnancies. Contraceptive herbs are expensive. When I was still living at home, he'd sneak into my bedroom every other night. He still does every time I go home to visit. It wasn't like this, though. I usually just laid there on my belly and lifted my tail, and he'd get on top of me for a few minutes... hurt a bit the first time, but I got used to it quickly. I never came from it... not like I've done with you, tonight. He'd just... fill me with a bit of spunk, then disappear without a word. But 's fine, I was doing it to help him, anyway."

Blake grinned and nodded. That would explain it, alright. Even though her brother's cock didn't have a fraction of his own size, just the fact that her asshole had a fair amount of practice would translate into significantly greater elasticity once the potion was added to the equation. Lowering his head to her level, he whispered in her ear - knowing that in her current state, she would not really remember his words, but that they would stick in the back of her mind nonetheless... particularly when events said mind would now associate with him occurred. "Well, now that you know how good it can be, you shouldn't be satisfied with that. Next time you're home, and he sneaks into your room, you should throw him down on your bed and ride his cock with your ass 'till you cum from it. Kiss him with your tongue, the way Anitra showed you. Tell him how you love being fucked by your big brother. Tell him you love feeling his cock deep in your ass. Clean him with your mouth when you're done, just to show him all you've learned." She nodded absentmindedly as she licked a few stray droplets of cum from his cockhead. "Mmm... I should do that... maybe I will..."

(Indeed, during her next return to her family home, she would do pretty much as Blake had announced, much to her brother's surprise and, shortly after, arousal. It would not, however, be even close to the most significant thing she did during that particular visit.)

A handful of minutes later, she was snoring on the bed, right alongside the rest of the women. With a sigh and a headshake, Blake walked away from the bed to lie down halfway unto the balcony so that he could look at the stars as he rested. He wasn't really sleepy yet - he'd sleep through the day, probably - but he enjoyed a spot of stargazing while he was relaxing in the post-orgasmic glow. He'd give Manushya an hour or two to nap - then he'd wake her up and put her to work. Their nightly activities had left a significant puddle next to the bed (which was, perhaps through an act of foresight, placed cleanly on the marble floor - with none of those super-absorbent rugs nearby), and soaked a heavily-scented mix of sweat, cum and pussy-juices into the sheets. As the servant in residence, cleaning that up was her job, after all! She could get some proper sleep the next day, while he himself was resting, and Anitra was busy running around playing noblewoman along with the other two.

He chuckled to himself as he rested his head on his crossed forelegs. Should he tell Anitra about his little 'conversation' with Manushya once she woke up, or wait 'till she was out and about and tell her about it over their telepathic link? As much as the matter amused him, he knew she would find it far more arousing. She had a bit of a thing for the incest-angle, he knew. Well, of course, recounting the story at a time when she had to maintain her prim-and-proper-noblewoman disguise would be rather mean, not to mention irresponsible. But he'd do it anyway - it would be like training for keeping a straight face, yes? And worst came to worst, she could just excuse herself by claiming she'd come down with a fever or something - probably happened to travelers a lot in this fetid jungle, and it wasn't as if the Maharajah would know that her draconic constitution protected her from such things.

Chuckling under his breath, he started making plans for how best to broach the subject, and threw a casual glance into the main chamber, where four naked, sexually-exhausted women were slumbering. Truly, it was great to be traveling again! To see the world, meet interesting people, and then fuck their brains out. Hah! He wasn't sure how much longer it would take Anitra to squeeze the secret of the hypnotic herb-mix out of the local priesthood, but really, he didn't mind if it would take a while. He'd be able to keep himself entertained, of that he felt sure...

THE END

Anitra and Blake's adventures in the jungles of Ganarãjya continue in Chapter 4 of the DragonRider Legends: The Bull-Headed God!