FSE

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All Characters and setting were inspired by the Out of Placers webcomic (OOPS) and world created by Valsalia

http://www.valsalia.com

http://www.furaffinity.net/user/valsalia/

https://www.patreon.com/valsalia

Yinglet Squire by Teether

Chapter 5

Cyrillah felt her face surrounded by the soft pillowy embrace of Anna’s voluptuous breasts, running her hands along the massive squishy bosoms, trying to feel them for every moment she had left with the curvy prostitute.

*”I want to stay like zhis forever. I don’t ever want to leave. Wedge between zhe breasts of a beautiful human” she thought dreamily as her eyes began to close and her nostrils flared at Anna’s sweet scent.

Cyrillah is ripped from her daydream as a rolled up piece of parchment whaps her over the top of the head.

“Ouch! Hey! Fucker!” Cyrillah yelps as she rubs the top of her head. The yinglet looks around as her eyes refocus, darting around the sunny open field she now occupied before refocusing her gaze on Vacar, standing in front of her with rolled up parchment map in hand.

“Get your hand outta your pants. The day is young and we still got some training to do” said Vacar folding the map and stuffing it into a side pocket.

Cyrillah looks down, seeing herself seated amongst their piled gear, her left hand planted firmly down the front of her pants. The embarrassed yinglet quickly pulls her hand free from her trousers, touching together the moist tips of her fingers before rubbing them through some dirt to dry them off. Cyrillah stands to her feet, brushing her hands off on the front of her dirty pants while Vacar waits patiently tapping his foot.

“So what’ll it be today? More tactics? More armor upkeep? More outdoor survival?” Cyrillah says sounding bored.

“Combat!” chirps Vacar joyfully as he pulls up at the handle of his long sword by his side before forcefully shoving it back down into the scabbard with a loud clack.

Cyrillah’s eyes widen, “Combat? But… You already taught me all zhe ins and outs of fighting. Are you just yanking my chain again?”

“No Cyrill, Combat! Live combat.” Said Vacar walking about ten feet back before turning back towards Cyrillah. Vacar pulls his sword completely from its scabbard before getting into a fighting stance.

Cyrillah stands dumbly for a couple seconds before eyeing up Vacar, “Your joking”

“Not one bit. What good is any of the knowledge I’ve given you if your not willing to put any of it into action? Killing a wolf and stabbing a drunkard is one thing but what will happen if a sober human comes seeking your head?” says Vacar motioning his blade over at Cyrillah’s long dagger lying on the ground next to her.

Cyrillah sighs, grabbing the long dagger and pulling the strap over her head and across her chest before walking up to Vacar. The yinglet pulls her long dagger from its scabbard and gets into her own fighting stance.

“I don’t know if you’re doing zhis for shits and giggles but zhis is not a fair fight. Your going to squash me like a bug” said Cyrillah, her heart beginning to race as she looks over the meancingly tall long sword in Vacar’s hand, comparing it to her own dagger.

“If you think like that then you’ve already lost to your opponent. Come on, where’s the fiery yinglet I ran into all those months ago?” Vacar said with a worried look

Cyrillah tighthens the grip on her long dagger, “She’s still here dammit! Iam still me and don’t you fucking forget zhat!”

Vacar grins, “Really? I think your getting a big head. Feeling like you can slay a human just as easily as some prostitutes pussy. Do you still have the balls to do what it really takes to be a soldier, Lah-Lah, or would you rather go back to daydreaming?”

Cyrillah grits her teeth, “I told you to stop calling me zhat!”

“Hmm, what’s wrong Lah-Lah? Does it eat at you to know that you’re a female? Does it scare you to think that deep down you may just be a small, fragile, egg layer?” says Vacar mockingly

“Shut up!” barks the little yinglet, aiming the tip of her blade at Vacar

“Make me, prove to me your not just some frilly egglayer. Show me that underneath all that fur is the true guts and iron of a soldier” says Vacar taking a step forward

Cyrillah remains silent as she violently huffs air in and out her nose, her face scrunched up with rage.

“Oh Lah-Lah, Valsalia to Lah-Lah, frilly little Lah-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Cyrillah screams out furiously as she lunges forward, swiping her blade at Vacar.

Vacar slashes his blade quickly, contacting Cyrillah’s with a sharp clang as the yinglet is thrown backward onto the ground, her long dagger clattering at her side. Cyrillah feels the rage pounding in her temples as she grabs her long dagger and charges once more.

Hours pass as the sunset falls upon the two clashing figures. Again and again, Cyrillah is stuck down by Vacar’s own skillful counterstrikes. Vacar stands, barely breaking a sweat in the evening sun as Cyrillah stands across from him, beaten, bruised, and fur disheveled. The yinglet’s chest raises and lowers heavily labored, her eyes squinted and tired as she uses all her strength to keep her stance straight. Vacar takes a couple steps forward as Cyrillah takes a couple paces back and stumbles. The yinglet catches herself from falling by planting her long dagger in the ground like a crutch. Cyrillah’s vision wavers as the figure of Vacar comes closer and closer.

Cyrillah closes her eyes and breaths a heavy sigh, “For fuckssake, just kill me already”

The yinglet waits for the strike of a blade or a punch to the chest but is only met with silence.

“Uhhhh….” Cyrillah mutters before a finger lightly boops her on the nose.

“Congrats! You’re dead!” says Vacar in his usual cheerful voice

Cyrillah opens her eyes to see Vacar’s joyfully squinted eyes and cheery smile.

The yinglet feels the anger from before course back into her as she snaps her jaws at Vacar, “You were making fun of me! I get it! I lost! I am just some frilly egglayer! You don’t have to rub it in my face! Just fuck off Vacar!”

Vacar stands up straight, holding up his palms, “Woah there Cyrill. I asked you to prove yourself. And I must say you quite exceeded my expectations. You know I did say ‘congrats’ afterall”

Cyrillah darts her eyes and twitches her ears in confusion, “Wait? What?....but I didn’t land a single blow on you. How does zhat get a ‘congrats’?”

Vacar sheaths his sword with a sigh, “I didn’t expect you to. What I wanted to see was your tenacity. Your willingness to get up and fight even when the odds are stacked against you. Every time I struck you down you immediately got back on your feet. And I have to say, I don’t even think most humans would put up to the barrage you did. You’re very strong-willed for a yinglet.”

“Strong-willed? Tenacity? What does zhat mean or even matter if I can’t land a blow?” says Cyrillah pushing herself back to her feet and resheathing her own blade.

“It means everything Cyrill. You should be proud” says Vacar putting a hand on Cyrillah’s shoulder before walking over to their pile of gear.

Cyrillah feels a welling of pride flush into her weary chest as she rubs a bruise on her shoulder, realizing just how much she hurt all over.

“Come on Cyrill, let’s make camp before the sun goes down completely. Can’t be a proper soldier without some grub and rest” said Vacar rummaging loudly through their gear.

*”A proper soldier, phhfftt” Cyrillah dismissively thinks as she shakes her head and limps over to Vacar. The two work together side by side getting ready for the long night ahead.

The two quickly make camp by the forest line on the cusp of the open field. After a quick unsatisfying dinner of jerky they sit by the dying campfire. Once the last of the embers go out they retire to their usual spots on either side of the campfire. Vacar seems to drift off immediately, bellowing out his usual snores and snorts. Cyrillah meanwhile, tosses and turns for hours, her aches and pains from the day’s earlier events keeping her up against her will along with the snoring.

Cyrillah flips onto her back and sighs loudly as the pangs from her bladder demand her attention aswell. The yinglet gets up and looks over at Vacar, his usual stupid smile adorning his resting mouth.

“Ass” Cyrillah mutters with a smile as she tiredly slings her dagger over her back, determined to not let any wolves take her off guard as she wanders into the forest.

Cyrillah goes a few trees into the dark forest before fumbling with her cumbersome pants. The yinglet leans back against a tree and lets out a sigh of relief as she lets nature take its course, only the sound being of her and the surrounding crickets in the brush.

“Hey! Get off m-!” comes Vacar’s shouts back at camp

Cyrillah’s blood runs cold as she quickly finishes and hikes up her pants, hoping deeply that Vacar was just talking in his sleep again. The yinglet tiptoes her way carefully from tree to tree, being extra careful not to step on any branches with her tiny feet. As she comes closer to the campsite she notices the dim glow from three lanterns swinging in the air. Cyrillah sneaks behind a tree closest to the camp and scurries quickly up to a high branch, perching on it. Looking down, she can make out three figures holding lamps. One is a bald giant of a man, grizzled with torn loose dirty clothing and wielding a large hammer over his shoulder. The second is a short man wearing ragged but once elegant looking clothing covered with mismatched leather armor over top. And the third looks like a lanky scarecrow with sickly yellow skin and a bandanna over his mouth, short sword at his waist as well. On the ground in the middle of them is Vacar with his arms and legs bound and sporting a large bruise over his right eye.

*”Bandits” thinks Cyrillah as the back of her neck fur bristles

The short elegant man gets down on one knee by Vacar, throwing an empty coin bag onto Vacar’s chest, “Eh, now I am not going to ask your wise-cracking ass again, where are yer coppers?”

Vacar spits into the man’s face, “Don’t got none, I spent it all on whores. Guess you fucking cowards will have to kill me”

The short man wipes the spit from his eyes with disgust before pulling out his short sword, “Yeah, I guess we fucking will”

The short man goes to drive the sword down into Vacar’s chest before the large man holds a hand out to block the shortman’s thrust.

“Hold on Boss” says the large man in a deep voice, holding his lantern closer to Vacar’s face.

“What!? What the fuck is it this time Hue?” snaps the Boss angrily

“Dis guy looks familiar. Yeah Yeah, I think he’s wanted down south for working against one of the Fedar families. He could catch a pretty nice bag of coins” said Hue encouragingly

“Were not dragging some sorry ass all the way to the Fedars and besides you dumbass, were headed north. ‘Sides the unstable shitbag Fedars would be just as likely to slit our throats as his” spits the Boss annoyed with the interruption

“Oh yeah, huh, whoops” says Hue stupidly as the lanky man gives out a wheezy chuckle.

“Shut your fucking crusty lips Straw!” says the Boss pointing a finger at the lanky man, “We’ll just have to do this the old fashion way. Kill ‘em and sell the gear in the closest town. Now shut up you two and let me do all the work like always” said the Boss as he raises his sword once more above Vacar’s chest.

Cyrillah feels her muscles clench up before drawing her dagger and leaping off the tree branch towards the short man. The yinglet plunges the long dagger down through the Boss’ neck collar, immediately severing an artery as blood pours from his mouth. The Boss falls backward, twitching as his eyes roll into the back of his head. Straw and Hue drop their lanterns onto the ground and stare flabbergasted at the yinglet before looking around the tree canopy for anymore falling yinglets. Cyrillah quickly pulls the long dagger free from the man’s neck before taking a fighting stance, her blade dripping with gore.

“Who’s next?” she says panting before looking over at Vacar. Vacar mouths the words “run” as he stares back at her.

“You killed Boss, you stupid, squeaky, swamp scum. I’ll smash you like a fucking bug” roars out Hue as he charges towards Cyrillah with his hammer in hand.

Cyrillah turns and flees into the woods but not before catching the sight of Vacar jumping up and wrapping his wrist bindings around Straw’s throat. The yinglet smiles, diving deep into the brush of the forest, quickly distancing herself from Hue’s line of sight. She climbs another tree, perching on a branch to wait for the lumbering beast. The giant’s unceremonious stomping allows her to easily track his wanderings until eventually he comes right under her branch. Cyrillah leaps off the branch, driving her blade once more toward her foe’s neck. Hue looks up quickly and blocks the yinglet’s attack with the heavy staff of his hammer.

“That trick’s not gonna work twice, swamp scum” Hue angrily grumbles

Cyrillah falls to the ground as pain shoots through her back. Hue raises his hammer and strikes the ground as Cyrillah rolls out of the way. The giant strikes again and again with his slow, heavy blows as the yinglet scrambles from its destructive path.

“Stupid scav, stay still” pants out Hue as obvious sweat beads on his tiring face.

Cyrillah jumps back from another swing before running and sliding between the large man’s legs, slashing at them as she goes through. Hue yells out as he falls to his knees cursing. Cyrillah quickly rushes around the left side of Hue and stabs her blade cleanly into his kidney. Hue roars, grabbing her with his left hand and throwing her against a nearby tree. The yinglet collapses onto the ground, her head ringing and body jolted with pain once more. Her eyes focus just in time to see Hue charging at her. Cyrillah dodges the blow, rolling through Hue’s legs and slashing at the giant’s crotch as the hammer embeds itself firmly into the rotted tree.

Hue lets go of the hammer, rolling onto his back as he screams out in blood curdling pain. Cyrillah leaps onto his stomach as she brings her long dagger down towards his chest. Hue punches Cyrillah in the right side of her torso with a massive fist, knocking her sideways and scattering her to the ground once more. The lumbering beast staggers to his feet as he pulls a small dagger from a side sheath. Cyrillah gets to her feet, feeling the right side of her body reeling in sharp pain from fractured ribs. Hue stammers towards her with a dark menacing grin as Cyrillah turns to run. She can feel her speed is now significantly labored, cradling her side as the large human slowly gains on her. The loud stomping footsteps in the brush get louder and louder as the last bit of energy is drained from the limping yinglet.

“I got you now swamp scum” cackles Hue as he slashes the blade down towards the yinglet’s back.

Before completing the strike, Hue’s large foot catches a gnarled root and he falls to all fours. The giant’s blade falls free from his hand, sinking tip first into the soil only a couple inches from Cyrillah’s right side. She looks back to see the coughing human slowly trying to get back on his feet. The yinglet turns back towards the human and runs with every ounce of spirit holding back the pain and exhaustion as she plunges her long dagger upward and through the giant’s throat. Hue smacks her aside as blood pours from the wound. Cyrillah slams back against a mound of dirt as Hue rips the dagger from his throat, trying to fruitlessly hold back the blood with his hands. But the damage is already done as he soon collapses over onto his side, coughing and hacking.

“Swamp scum…..” Hue wheezes out one last time before becoming still on the forest floor.

Cyrillah breathes an unsure sigh of relief at the messy sight before feeling her exhaustion and pain finally overtake her. The yinglet’s eyes fall heavy, their last sight being the slaughtered monster in front of her.

A mixture of pain and dark fog swirl through Cyrillah’s mind. The fog slowly swirls into humanoid shadows. The shadows become demonic and twisted in form, all with their own featureless weapons covered in blood. Cyrillah tries to fight back with her own weapons but quickly realizes she’s defenseless and naked. Nothing more than a simple scav. She tries to bite and claw but wave after wave of apparitions overwhelm her, stabbing at her ribs and head. Before her vision is completely crowded out by the menacing forms, a pair of strong arms scoops her onto her back and lifts her up into a calming white light.

Cyrillah wakes up abruptly gasping for air the next morning. Her eyes dart around expecting to still see the pitchblack forest and the large dead man lying at her feet. Instead she sees that she is back at the campsite on her sleeping blanket, her chest and ribs wrapped in bandaging and her cuts treated. Cyrillah flinches as she looks over to her right, seeing the pale faces of the Boss and Straw lying in a pile on the ground. The familiar smell of roasting salted meat fills her nostrils as she looks over to see Vacar cooking their breakfast.

Vacar looks at Cyrillah with surprise on his still bruised face, “Huh, didn’t expect you to be up so soon”

“Yeah, well, I guess I am tenacious-somezhing or whatever you said” said Cyrillah wincing as she touched her bandaged ribs.

Vacar responded with a smile as he pulls two sticks of meat from the fire and plucks a bottle off the ground. He walks over and sits down next to Cyrillah and hands her a stick of meat. She takes the stick in her hands while Vacar pops the top off the bottle and takes a swig before handing it to Cyrillah. The yinglet takes a deep swig of the pungent liquor, warming her entire body before handing it back to Vacar. The two sit for a while, just staring into the crackling fire as the morning songbirds sing their hearts out.

“You know if you weren’t here last night I would have been dead” said Vacar breaking the silence, taking a swig from the bottle and handing it to Cyrillah

“I am sure you would’ve figured someway out. You’re zhe big strong merc. I am just some scav wizh a blade” said Cyrillah taking another swig from the bottle and leaving her untouched meat on the ground beside her.

“Soldier, not scav” said Vacar sternly

Cyrillah gives Vacar a side eye before taking another swig, “Har har, funny Vacar”

“I am serious Cyrill. You killed two bandits last night and saved my sorry ass. You showed bravery and tenacity in the face of overwhelming odds. If that doesn’t make you a soldier than nothing does.” Said Vacar looking at her

Cyrillah looks at Vacar before taking another swig from the bottle as she feels her head begin to go fuzzy, “Yeah…I guess I did”

“You put down a brick-wall of a man that would’ve even make me take a second guess” said Vacar proudly

Cyrillah feels a flutter in her chest as she takes another swig, “Fuck yeah I did, bastard was hard to put down”

Vacar takes the bottle back from the woozy yinglet, putting the cap back on it before pointing to Cyrillah’s chest and putting a hand on her shoulder, “From this moment forward I declare you as an official soldier. From this moment on you carry the title of Cyrill the soldier. Wear it with pride and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Cyrillah’s face glowed as the weight of her teacher’s words flowed over her.

“Cyrill the soldier” she says through a drunken smile.

“Cyrill the soldier” Vacar assuringly repeats before standing back up

Cyrillah winces in pain as Vacar gives her some reassuring pats on the back, “Now, Get some rest Cyrill, I’ll take care of gearing up camp. We don’t have too much further to travel soldier”

Vacar gets up, putting out the fire and packing gear for the road ahead. Cyrillah quickly finishes her meat before laying her head back down on her blanket, still buzzing with her new title and veins filled with liquor.

*”Soldier”

*”I am a real soldier”