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Harem Ethics 101 147. Bloody Mess
After climbing through the window into the temple, the soles of my boots sank into the carpet when I lowered myself into the dimly lit chamber. I unsheathed the breacher, its blade whispering against the leather as I drew it. Creeping through the weak, flickering light of the sun shards hanging from the temple’s vaulted ceiling, I approached a flame kroll passed out on a nearby couch. The goblin-lookin’ monster lay on its back. Curled in its arm, it affectionately held a club almost as big as it was against its side. Snoring, its breath wafted up to me in deep, snorting exhalations. Scowling at the stench of what I could only describe as ‘a burning pile of hair and tires’, my gloved hand clamped over its mouth and drove the dagger through its heart. “Mph–!” The monster stiffened, eyes bulging as the knife impaled it. Seconds later its body went slack, dying with only a muffled gasp of pain against my palm. I pulled the breacher free and moved to a nearby armchair. In it, anot
Harem Ethics 101 148. Damn... How Many Are Left?
Hiding in the treeline, I peeked around a tree next to the road leading to the temple and peered into the village that’d been overtaken by flame krolls. In the fading light of twilight, the bonfire at the center of the ransacked town burned brightly. Around it, about twenty flame krolls and their chief impatiently waited. Snapping and snarling at one another, they gnashed their jagged, pointed teeth. Their blood-red faces were etched with savage expressions of ravenous hunger. Each in various thread-bare clothing ranging from large tunics to poorly-sewn animal skins, their small bodies shifted restlessly as their impatience grew. From the double doors of a squat, wooden building about the size of a three-bedroom house, a flame kroll wearing a blood-stained potato sack as a dress emerged. It dragged behind it a cart piled high with arms, legs, and meat. The wooden wheels of its wagon squealed and groaned as the goblinoid creature hurriedly pulled the gory load to its chief. My s
Harem Ethics 101 149. Outworlder
Pushing aside the red tapestry, I crouch walked out of the hole in the waist-high stone wall and into the temple’s main chamber. Saelia waited a few feet from where I emerged and grinned at me as I straightened. “Your plan appears to be working out quite well.” “Yeah…” I said, catching my breath and unholstering my gun. With a flick of my wrist, the cylinder snapped open. I fished out my last remaining bullets and reloaded all six chambers. From the busted down door leading to the other wing of the temple, howls of fury and terror echoed out, followed by another explosion. “Guess they got into the rooms I wasn’t hiding in.” “It seems so,” she said with an amused giggle. “So, assuming some have also fallen into the spike pit in the other room, what do you plan on doing now?” “Now, my dear shadow primal, all that’s left to do is mop up the rest.” I drew the breacher in my free hand and proceeded with Saelia to the doorway leading to the temple’s other wing. Both mine and
Harem Ethics 101 150. The Six of Iron
In the cold moonlight, the plundered village looked desaturated. With the embers of the bonfire out, the glowing forest around the settlement was the only source of warm color. Lysandra and Saelia stood back to back, their eyes darting between the six figures emerging from the surrounding buildings. I glanced nervously to my left and saw a smirking orc built like a bulldozer come to a stop about twenty feet away. Muscles bulging beneath his clay-gray skin, he held a double-sided ax, casually resting the haft against his broad shoulder. A few feet from him stood a petite woman with violet skin and reverse jointed legs. Clad in leather armor and with a quiver of arrows slung between her delicate dragonfly wings, she wielded a bow almost as tall as she was. To my right about half a basketball court away was a narrow-shouldered human with a pretty face and long, glossy hair. Not a thread of the crimson cloak covering her body moved as she stared at me through flat, glassy eyes the
Harem Ethics 101 151. I'm Fine Where I Am...
Surrounded by Mark and the eight members of his harem, I stood next to Lysandra and Saelia in the center of the dilapidated, moonlit village. The steady glow of the forest seeped into the outskirts of the former settlement but wasn’t strong enough to reach further. The warden was back-to-back with Lysandra between her scarlet wings. With grim determination etched into their faces, they were in fighting stances. Fists up, both women kept their eyes moving to keep the ring of likely enemies in sight. The answer to Mark’s question of whether or not I wanted to go with him came effortlessly. However, my uncertainty at how he’d react to this answer made my core flutter with nerves. I smiled nervously at him. “Thanks, but I’m fine where I am…” He let out a deep sigh but ended up nodding. “Alright, if that’s what you really want.” My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?” “What?” he said, chuckling at my expression. “Did you think we’d drag you away kicking and screaming?” “Uhh… No…?”
Harem Ethics 101 152. Kill Them!
Alea and the elf lay dead, the top halves of their heads blown off by fist-sized stones Saelia had launched in a surprise attack. Chunks of skull and globs of brain were strewn out behind them in the dirt of the rundown town, appearing almost colorless in the cold light of the moon above. Lysandra, Saelia, and I were surrounded by Mark and the remaining members of his harem. They stared at the corpses, momentarily stunned by the sudden, horrible ends of the demi-aviatin and the mysterious elf in the luxurious gray robes. “Bryan, get down!” Saelia shouted from behind me. Her command shook me free from the shock that’d rooted me in place. I ducked, and just as I did a round stone as large as a grapefruit shot over my head towards Mark’s face. His shadow lifted free from the ground and whipped forward like an inky tendril. It slapped the projectile from the air and into the ground. “Kill them!” Mark roared, his rage-filled face specked with the blood of Alea and the elf. “Leave
Harem Ethics 101 153. 'Serve Under Him,' Huh?
Faelius stood about half a head shorter than me, yet I still felt as though the pale ice primal towered over me as he came to a stop half a dozen feet away. In each hand, he held a rapier and a dagger made from ice. His gloved fingers clenched around his weapons as his annoyed expression chilled into an angry glare. “So… You’re an ice primal then?” I said, forcing a grin onto my face in an attempt to hide my growing fear. He nodded. “Yes…” Saelia had told me not to fight this man, but I’d not technically said I wouldn’t. What I’d said was for her not to worry about me, which wasn’t actually a promise to not scrap with this asshole. Had I been a bit sneaky in my wording? Maybe… But I wasn’t content to just preoccupy Faelius by forcing him to babysit me to keep me from running away. I intended to take him down so the warden didn’t have someone to deal with when she was done with Mark and his creepy, yellow-eyed… whatever. That said… while the guy wasn’t as strong as Saelia, he was
Harem Ethics 101 154. Awful Fate
Falius and I faced one another at the center of the dilapidated town, our fists raised. The moon shone above us, bathing us in cold light as we faced off as though it were a cold sun presiding over a duel at high noon. Alright, let’s make it look good. My boot ground through the warm, red dirt as I slid forward and fired off a quick series of jabs at Faelius. Sounds of leather against leather thudded as his gloved hands smacked away mine with practiced ease. After slapping my last blow away, he threw a lazy right hook. Knowing I didn’t have a chance at blocking it, I ducked it and rammed a fist into his gut. He barely budged, and pain surged through my hand as if I’d punched a leather-covered wall. “So weak…” His palm hit my chest like a battering ram Gritting my teeth against the shock of pain from his one-handed shove, my boots created shallow four-foot-long trenches in the dirt as I slid back. Through the fear and adrenaline rushing through my veins, a twinge of annoy
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