Most stories begin with the heroes due to quest off and fight the demon lord, his lieutenants, and whatever unwitting minions of his that he roped into assisting him. There are magical artifacts, daring fights, and many haphazard developments on the way, chronicling the heroes' ascent from the bottom to the top. The movement of these gradually more and more powerful heroes toward the evil lord in the frigid north, defeating him, and then happily ever after.
This story more or less really begins with the heroes having already defeated the Demon Lord in the frigid north. The Wastelands of Azla'kar in the north were tundras that only achieved a semblance of value when the industrious Demon Lord Belthelar set to work on introducing the fires of industry. It turned out that deep within the icy shelves of the wastes, there were apt minerals and valuable rocks that could be used to purchase goods and weapons from the Free Cities of the Southern Sea - always eager as they were to play both sides.
The middle Kingdoms, between the South Sea and the Northern Wastes, were as always politically controlled by the Holy Kingdom of Astraval, ruled by the Cardinal Wallace. The rest of the kingdoms, consisting of Seiren, Vaulduke, Leiraje, Brinstone and Halforth-Dumorne were petty kingdoms mostly intertwined with one another - Seiren being the largest and the hub of most trade in the area, as well as home of the largest illicit districts.
Such is the setting we see as the heroes return from their journey.
The formerly junior Paladin Bryndon Thwaine, having grown from a boy into a man over the course of the adventure. Now at about 29, Bryndon is stringent with the rules of being a paladin despite his own tempted nature. Standing at 6 foot 4 and weighing roughly 230 lbs, the handsome, blond haired and amber eyed Paladin would never allow anyone to know about how much he struggles with his insurgent sexuality. Much as he tries to be pure and serve the Light, Bryndon's body yearns for the touch of others. It is a desire that existed before the curse, but which will be exacerbated by it. Clad in his bright and shining armor at most times, Bryndon never gives any hint of the struggle that exists within him.
The Warrior Landon Luthain - already a man grown when the adventure began, now that it is over, he is at the age of 42, and adjusts poorly to his age and the way he is regarded. His black hair slightly receding, his good looks remaining even in the face of slight wrinkles, a scar over his right eye, discoloring it slightly from its normal green coloration. Clad in a set of leather armor and simple clothes, Landon wields a pair of swords. Eager to return to his ways as a womanizer, the curse might well find an easy home in Landon Luthain.
The Mage Dev Montryse came from royalty - and is used to a certain kind of treatment. 27 years old, thinner and more lean than the first two, Dev is used to using his magical knowledge and royal favors to get himself through problems. His mage's attire covers most of his body, allaying but not assuaging his grievance that the other men are more physically stunning than him. Somewhat prone to selfishness and already known as a wanton with the maids in his family castle back home, the auburn haired, maroon eyed Dev is prone to indulging himself as he wants already - though with his magical knowledge, he's more wary when something seems to be amiss. A more challenging target than what one might assume.
The Cleric Lissa Fierre was sheltered for most of her life, all the pity for the fact is she grew into a gorgeous figure and lush strawberry blond hair, her blue eyes glimmering. The team's healer, Lissa is the most conflicted and may well be the easiest target of the curse or the most difficult. Dressed in a body covering habit from her convent, Lissa is a committed healer but a frustrated woman - she yearns for Bryndon, but he seems constantly distant and dismissive of her desire for him...
The Rogue Anson Dubois was already the most morally dubious of the heroes, using his cunning and underhanded techniques to get them ahead. 28 years old, dashing and charming despite his nature, Anson has black hair, deep set dark eyes that give a sense of danger, and a lean but very muscular build - more suited for gymnastics than displays of strength. Dressed in a hood, light armor, and wielding an arsenal of smaller weapons, Anson is not the most famous of the heroes - a situation that aggrieves him, as he was wont to use his status to acquire copious enjoyment at the Seiren night clubs.
The Squire Asher Balric grew up amidst these people, serving them from the age of 13 to now 24. Eager to make a name for himself separate from his traveling companions, Asher is always eager to show his new abilities with the bow and arrow. Well muscled and strong, he nevertheless constantly compares himself with the physically larger and stronger Bryndon. But is that all there is between the two? Asher seems to view the team leader in both an envious and erotic light even as Asher tries to pursue women...
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"Alright everyone," Bryndon stood in the front of the Grand Central Inn as his party gathered before him. The inn was nothing if not luxurious - one of the larger ones in Seiren, walls of oak and fine magic shaped stone, three or four stories, and large rooms with bathing systems built in. The beds were large, and made it seemed for lovers rather than single people.
Asher eager to get moving, Landon and Anson likewise. Bryndon himself had hoped to just get back to the Holy Kingdom. Being in Seiren...tempted him. In ways he was not very comfortable with. His body shivered, and all too often during their stay at the Grand Central Inn he would wake to hear a couple, amorous and loud, the very next room over... "Much as I'd prefer moving on, it was voted that we stop in Seiren. The Seirenese people welcomed us with open arms, and we cannot in good conscience say no."
"Don't be so high strung, Bryndon." Luthain responded, crossing his arms and chuckling, "The light is not going to abandon you over one good fuck with a wanton lass in Seiren."
"You...cannot know that, Landon." That was all Bryndon was willing to say on the subject. "I will stay at the Grand Central Inn. Going to the Red Districts - full of their licentiousness - would---"
"Would be a bit more fun than a paladin's allowed to have." Anson remarked.
"My duty is not about enjoyment. It is about what I am required to do." Bryndon icily responded, and turned to look at Lissa, feeling more comfortable and at home with her. She had indicated she would be staying at this home base with him, in the generous and large suite they were allowed to use in gratitude for saving the city multiple times.
Bryndon felt comfortable with her - aside from some odd incidents early on, she seemed to have her desires under control. As would be expected of someone in her position.
"Alright, so we'll all try and be back here by midnight. Just to be careful, so we don't get separated." Dev clarified, crossing his arms. To tell the truth he was eager to separate from the muscleheads here and evade the capacity for comparison. Comparison he seemed to always end up on the poor end of. Even Asher, the fucking squire, had a better muscled build than him. Well, he had his magic. So there was that.
"Alright, alright," Anson said, "I'll try and find you guys before the midnight hours. Guide you back to the Inn. Don't get too wrapped up in your pleasures, in other words~"
Before long, Anson, Landon, Asher and Dev all left for the Red Districts of the City of Seiren. They were large pleasant hubs of activity and desire, bath houses next to whore houses, and none empty of lures for those seeking pleasure. None of the heroes knew as they departed that there was something hanging over all of their heads. A slow burning transfiguration that would make Seiren's temptations exceedingly effective on them.
As Bryndon and Lissa returned to the room, Lissa looked at Bryndon's broad back. She rarely got to see Bryndon outside his armor except when he bathed. And that was sure as can be a heavenly experience. She yearned for him, but knew by now he would probably never reciprocate...