Early evening was about to fall and despite the bloody reasons for all three troll tribes to be here, it was still business as usual as Majanie hurriedly walked through the camp of the Riverfangs.
Large tepees were the exception and formed the core of the campsites, which were arranged in circles or semi-circles. Many of the sleeping places were at best just sticks rammed into the ground with leather tied over them or even open at the front and closed at the back. Small campfires crackled and killed animals of all kinds roasted over them or a soup bubbled away. The captured fur and leather of the prey was stretched on homemade frames and bloody weapons were cleaned and freshly sharpened. Females talked to each other or cared for their smallest pups, while older pups hastily ran to play tag or boys tussled with each other to earn or defend their place.
Shortly before the tepee Majanie was heading for, which was surrounded by a self-made, ritually painted stone circle, she also passed a very active troll couple. Shame was pretty much a foreign concept for trolls anyway, although the two were trying to keep to themselves a little. Their sounds were less discreet, however, as were the movements of the male. He stood over the female, who pampered him with her lips on his testicles and the lower shaft of his glans. He massaged his best piece, the tip of which was already full of pre-cum and was spread uncontrollably over his partner’s face in his lust.
In her excitement and haste, however, this was only a side note for Majanie, like the sign at the entrance to the teepee. She could only just make out the wooden wind chimes that told her that someone was being consulted in the tent, which was why she did not enter. She tried not to let her unease show and looked impatiently past the leather curtain covering the slit. She couldn’t see much, however, as the tepee was quite dark and only lit by a handful of candles. As two trolls approached the curtain, she stepped a little more to the side and feigned disinterest.
“Thank you so much, great witch,” said a female troll. She held a metal bronze cartouche clutched tightly to her bare chest and she wore only a short skirt over her hips.
A slightly taller, matured troll female followed her. “No, I thank you for turning to me and thus the all-seeing serpent,” the much older witch replied. Her ears, nose and mouth were also pierced with small bones and her face was painted similarly to Majanie’s, only her colors were richer, the areas wider and the markings more. She placed her hand familiarly on her guest’s shoulder. “May he satisfy your desire for revenge. Nothing escapes her gaze.”
“Blessed be the all-seeing serpent,” the female said and went down on her knees to put her arms around the witch’s waist and humbly press her head against her lap.
The witch left the female on her knees for a moment until she allowed her to stand up again and her guest left. “You’re early,” she said, returning to her tent. “I thought the La’Jatal wanted to see the spoils of trade with her entourage. Was it that disappointing?”
Majanie had regained her composure after seeing Bood Tusk, but in the tepee she saw the golden idol of the all-seeing serpent after entering. Her faith, her conviction, immediately made her prostrate herself before the tiki and keep her gaze as flat as possible. She was not worthy of the sight of the tiki. “All-seeing serpent, Haruk’Zil,” she worshipped the image, murmuring sacred mantras too quietly to be heard before speaking normally again. “Today you have truly blessed us, for I have seen it.”
The older witch of over 50 years radiated considerable self-confidence and she watched the tribute with satisfaction. However, thanks to their regenerative nature, old was an elastic term for trolls. They usually had more of a mature appearance, like the witch, and hardly had any wrinkles, gray hair or similar signs of a long life. “It seems to be the opposite,” the witch guessed. Her name was Zu’ji and she wore a tasteful coverlet that did not hide her breasts from underneath. “What did you see?”
Majanie rose slowly and bit her finger to drop a few drops of her blood into an already filled offering bowl in front of the serpent idol. “A sign,” she said meaningfully. “It must be a sign, my mistress.”
“Your penchant for drama is why I accepted you as my apprentice,” Zu’ji said with delight. She was the herb witch of the Riverfangs and could create all sorts of things from plants and other ingredients. “But now talk - what sign did you see?”
Majanie served the La’Jatal first and foremost, but she wanted to be more in her life. That was why she had become the herb witch’s apprentice and her true loyalty was secretly to Zu’ji. “The pucks, their camp,” she swallowed again, as if she still couldn’t believe it. “One of the purchased fighters is a, he’s an ancestor.”
Zu’ji remained steely, her ears twitching. “An ... ancestor?” she asked, moving closer to her student. “With the pucks? How could these gold-blinded creepers call something of inestimable value their own? Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely,” Majanie nodded decisively. She was an inquisitive and good student, in her own opinion. “Just as you described it to me and showed me in the pictures. I’ve never seen a troll like this before.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Describe it to me,” Zu’ji demanded softly and she paced thoughtfully around her tepee. She listened intently to her student’s words as she opened her personal, well-locked chest. Hidden in a secret bottom, she pulled out an ancient book. The cover was made of darker troll skin, but the engravings, edges and double flap were pure gold. She opened it and leafed through to a vague, primitive drawing, which Bluthauer found extremely familiar. “Yes, yes, that sounds very familiar.”
“It must be an answer to our prayers,” Majanie said with conviction. She and her mistress had been asking the all-seeing serpent for changes within the tribe for a long time.
“Tiki give us signs, but only we can create certainty,” Zu’ji replied respectfully and gently closed the book to put it away again. She had long wanted to be the high priestess of the tribe and focus more on her Tiki. “You must go to this troll and bring me something from him.”
“What do you want me to bring you?” Majanie asked and she knelt devotedly before the witch.
“Something we can sacrifice to the all-seeing serpent,” Zu’ji explained wisely and she stroked her pupil’s short hair. “I will perform a ritual for it and if our sacrifice really comes from an ancestor, the snake will respond with more than signs - I am absolutely certain of that.”
“His blood, then?”
“That would be best,” Zu’ji smirked sinfully. “Or you could mate with him and bring me his seed. Perhaps that will reward you in many ways, with an ancestor of your own.”
“I can do that,” Majanie nodded without hesitation, and she rubbed her belly. “Only ... the camp is being watched by scouts. Curious eyes could become questioning mouths.”
“Because a young female like you desires to be taken by a strong warrior? Hardly.”
“Not that, no,” Majanie shook her head. In her devotion, she had skimmed over a point. “You know I also want the all-seeing snake to be more respected in our tribe. I want that more than anything, just...”
Zu’ji was strict but not stupid and she knew that if her student had any doubts, there was a reason for it. “Speak.”
“This warrior, he’s ... he knows nothing about us, nothing at all,” Majanie reported and she bowed her head in shame at her mistress for only now giving her this important information. “He doesn’t even know the tiki and only grew up in the puck Arena. The La’Jatal even said she wasn’t sure if we should allow such an outrage onto the ritual grounds.”
“I understand,” Zu’ji nodded conscientiously and she kept her student on her knees. It was time for her to light the offerings in front of the idol that her previous guest had brought her. There were a few juicy fruits, teeth from king alligators and a self-carved image of Haruk’zil. “We must be all the more certain that it is a sign. Sacrilege or not. Ancestors are the origin of us all, yes ... even those of the tiki. When we know he is one, we can worry about this outrages part. Until then, you have a task.”
“Of course, my mistress,” Majanie said. She trusted the herb witch’s knowledge and intuition without question. As she tried to rise, however, one of the witch’s hands held her down. “Mistress?”
“Stay a little longer,” Zu’ji commanded gently. Her mature words were a whisper, made to drip into ears like sweet poison “You’ve been too busy with the La’Jatal duties the last few days and have neglected me greatly.”
Majanie was young, if not totally na?ve. However, she adored the witch and her knowledge, though the physical also played a part. “Please forgive me,” she pleaded softly, pressing her head against her mistress’s leg, “I’ve missed your scent, so intense and close to me.”
“I want more than just your nose,” Zu’ji breathed more expectantly. She really craved the young troll female, but it was also a method of control and she reached out with both hands to guide her student’s head between her legs. “I want you to show me how much you desire me, that I am everything to you, as your mistress and your lover.”
Majanie longingly pushed aside Zu’ji’s open leg dress and she lavished kisses on the smooth lips of her forecourt. As she did so, she literally clung to the witch, gripping both her ass and the back of her thigh.
“Yes, just like that,” Zu’ji whispered before pulling in her lower lip. She was older, but more than limber, and she placed one of her legs over her student’s shoulder. Her hands let go of her head and she propped herself up on the altar behind her instead as her firm mounds of chest heaved up and down in rising expectation. “Don’t hold back.”
Majanie truly had no intention of doing so. Like her mistress, the La’Jatal servant needed to release her stress and let it flow into her lust. Wide open, she closed her entire mouth around the starving part of the mature witch and sucked hard. Majanie’s tongue darted forward again and again from the inside and pressed itself neatly between her wetting labia.
It was a much-needed pleasure for Zu’ji. She was in charge and possessed a much sought-after talent. With the relaxation setting in, surrounded by the thin threads of smoke rising from the offerings, she moaned uninhibitedly to herself and at the same time was able to sink into her thoughts. If we really have found an ancestor, then my time has finally come, she was overcome with delight. With his power, I will be High Priestess and with the help of Haruk’Zil and the ancestor, the Riverfa will secure their place in the Diamond Jungle!
Unaware that her mistress was also getting heated about the joyful prospects for the future, Majanie only became more meticulous. She focused her tongue specifically on the witch’s swollen mound of Venus and soon she was making her mouth smaller in order to pounce completely on that small but irritable nerve.
Zu’ji looked up at the ceiling of her teepee and sounds escaped her throat that were a mixture of pleasure and laughter. She ran a hand over her own chest, pushing up her throw as she did so. It became more difficult for her to stand, as her student was very aggressive and literally pushed her butt onto the altar. “We’ll take what’s ours!” she said, spurred on by this covetous approach and removed her throw.
The altar was a table made of wooden stumps and stones, improvised but sturdy. Nevertheless, the movements of both troll females rattled the idol, the bowls, every little thing on the altar. Likewise, the bone rings of both rattled halfway rhythmically and Majanie scratched bloody streaks along the witch’s thighs.
“Blood for Harukh’Zil!” Zu’ji exulted as her precious red ran down the edges of the stone and wood. She hastily wiped one of the wounds to smear her chest and let a few drops drip into one of the flickering bowls. The same hand went to the back of Majanie’s head again, so that Zu’ji could make her feel who was really in control. She was the mistress and the young female was her pupil.
