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And The Waters Ran Red

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The question is "Will Eulalia and her band of Amazon warriors, the modern Border Rievers, be lying in wait, yew-tree bows in hand to turn the hunters into the hunted?"
Will she cunningly lead the hunt in the direction of the narrow pass between the hills? Will she let the fugitive girls run through, before she and her band rise from hiding to send a storm of cloth-yard arrows to strike down the hunters and their hounds? Do we see 50 wenches clad in tartan mini kilts and leather jerkins (the whip of bowstring in nipple is excruciating hence the jerkins) their faces and limbs streaked with mud and ocre to match the heather, appear, as if by magic, to wreak havoc? Yes Please, do I hear you cry (I know I do)?
 
Last edited:
cruxlover said:
The question is "Will Eulalia and her band of Amazon warriors, the modern Border Rievers, be lying in wait, yew-tree bows in hand to turn the hunters into the hunted?"
Will she cunningly lead the hunt in the direction of the narrow pass between the hills? Will she let the fugitive girls run through, before she and her band rise from hiding to send a storm of cloth-yard arrows to strike down the hunters and their hounds? Do we see 50 wenches clad in tartan mini kilts and leather jerkins (the whip of bowstring in nipple is excruciating hence the jerkins) their faces and limbs streaked with mud and ocre to match the heather, appear, as if by magic, to wreak havoc? Yes Please, do I hear you cry (I know I do)?
Click to expand...

An interesting variation!!! Thank god for jerkins!!! :rolleyes::p
 
Bigger the="Barbaria1, post: 207130, member: 13545"]An interesting variation!!! Thank god for jerkins!!! :rolleyes::p[/QUOTE]
Bugger the bows; think VICKERS GUNS!!!
 
10.
​
Scrambling over logs, wading knee-deep through tranquil pools, splashing and sliding through frothy waters rushing over slippery rocks, we flee downstream from the macabre sight of a woman's skeletal remains skewered by an arrow shaft.

Not until we have fled hundreds of yards downstream, do we finally pull up to rest, panting and shaking from exertion, bathed in sweat, hands on knees, bunched together in the middle of the stream.

I look up finally, arching my back, hands clasped behind my head, taking in a bright blue sky and wispy white clouds visible through a canopy of tree crowns. Cold water rushes and gurgles around the calves of my legs. Birds sing

My sisters cluster around me, sunlight reflecting off their naked wet bodies. The scene seems almost seems idyllic, like some kind of romanticist painting ... a far cry from the true peril of this day.

Tash laughs nervously, bending to playfully flick water at the rest of us. We all laugh. "Let"s take a little break," says Siss, "I think we kind of panicked back there."

"Yes," I chime in. "Messa was right. The hounds can't follow us in this stream and are probably far away chasing the others by now."

But the high spirits of our little self-congratulatory celebration are suddenly shattered by the yelping of the dog pack somewhere downstream. We freeze and listen as the yelping and baying is augmented by the sound of female voices yelling and cursing.

"Crap," says Blaire.

A moment later we see them ... coming around a bend ... a mass of naked girls ... dozens of them ... white skin framed against dark waters and foliage ... making their way frantically ... pushing and shoving ... splashing, falling, getting up again ... heading straight for us.

"Turn around. Run," yells Jane, her fat naked ass quivering as she clambers over a fallen log, plunges into a pool and wades to the other side. The rest of us follow, glancing over our shoulders as we fight our way upstream.

But after just a hundred yards we come to a sudden halt. A column of hunters on horseback is picking its way along the left bank of the stream.

"Crap, trapped," cries Blaire.

We reverse course, plunging back downstream toward the others. We meet in a broad fast-flowing stretch of water and everyone mills around in confusion, unsure of what to do next.

Messaline tries to rally our little group, jumping up and down and pointing towards the right bank and a narrow trail leading up and out of the steep-sided ravine.

A moment later the air is filled with volleys of arrow shafts, coming from two directions, that rain down on and rip into the mass of naked women. Screams and shrieks as the victims of these first fusillades throw up their hands, stagger about, and fall into the stream. I look in horror at a young redhead thrashing about in the water at my feet, a shaft stuck deep in her back. I retreat and fall backwards over a second body.

"Come on," yell Jane and Tash, leading the way out of the stream and up the slope. I rise to my feet and fight my way through the mass of terrified women milling about in the bloody waters of the stream just as another volley of shafts rain down.

The woman nearest me screams and spins around, a shaft through her throat. She grabs onto me as she goes down, warm blood spurting all over my chest. I shove her away and stumble over to the bank of the stream, and grasping a tree branch for support I begin scrambling up the slope.

Behind me the baying dogs have jumped into the fray, circling and herding their prey into an ever tighter space and adding to the unholy din in the stream bed behind me. I am partway up the slope, breathlessly following my sisters when hunters suddenly appear above us.

"Crap," cries Blaire.

A moment later she is impaled against a tree, a shaft through her belly. I stop dead in my tracks, appalled at the sight of her hanging from the tree, her arms and legs thrashing wildly, blood spurting from her mouth and nose.

Jane has been hit too. She comes rolling back down the slope like a log, her fat body bowling me over and sending me back down, arms flailing, into the water. I land on my back, draped over the legs of a girl lying face down in the water, two shafts protruding from her back.

A jab of pain shoots through me as I struggle to my feet. A shaft has embedded itself in my right thigh. I fall back into the water screaming, clutching my thigh with blood-covered hands. Lying on my side in the water and summoning all my strength, I grasp the shaft and pull it from my thigh, nearly passing out from the pain.

Sitting up in the water, flowing swiftly by me, red with blood, I survey the carnage. Bodies everywhere. The stream bed is literally carpeted with the dead and dying, lying face down or face up ... in some some cases, piled in grotesque heaps. A few yet unscathed, wander around in a daze.

I pull myself up on hands and knees and begin crawling through the bloody water toward the nearest body, lying face down, half submerged, the rounded twin cheeks of her butt out of the water, blonde hair wrapped around her head and shoulders, arrow shaft in her back.

Reaching her, I roll her over. "Oh Siss," I gasp, cradling her head in my arms. Her blue eyes flicker and open. I am about to say something, but am distracted by movement on the stream bank. I look up. The hunters are closing in, crossbows at the ready.

The slaughter is almost over. A few girls are still on their feet, cowering together not far from where I kneel in the water. The line of hunters come closer, stepping into the stream. The dogs snarling at their sides.

I look to the closest of them. And freeze ... transfixed by the intense gaze of the same bearded, dapper man from before. He smiles, mouths the words "my trophy", raises his weapon and sends a bolt through my right shoulder just above my breast.

I scream, flop backwards in the water propelled by the power of the penetrating shaft, my head striking a rock, the waters red with blood flowing over my face.

TO BE CONTINUED
 
Last edited:
cruxlover said:
The question is "Will Eulalia and her band of Amazon warriors, the modern Border Rievers, be lying in wait, yew-tree bows in hand to turn the hunters into the hunted?"
...
Click to expand...

You're wrong, cruxlover, Eul is not an Amazon ! Messa is the CF'Amazon ;
about-us-1-1-2774.jpg

...alas, in these circumstances, she's not armed and I dont think that she could do anything ...:(
normal_IMG_1760_edit_demo.jpg

But, perhaps that Barb has a hidden idea ?:D

Rachel-Bilson-Computer.gif :devil:
 
[Qthink o"admihoek, post: 207202, member: 92"]of course.......................she is member of the cruxgirls crew[/QUOTE]
I think of Swiftys wolf pack with choppe r s
 
Barbaria1 said:
10.
​
Scrambling over logs, wading knee-deep through tranquil pools, splashing and sliding through frothy waters rushing over slippery rocks, we flee downstream from the macabre sight of a woman's skeletal remains skewered by an arrow shaft.

Not until we have fled hundreds of yards downstream, do we finally pull up to rest, panting and shaking from exertion, bathed in sweat, hands on knees, bunched together in the middle of the stream.

I look up finally, arching my back, hands clasped behind my head, taking in a bright blue sky and wispy white clouds visible through a canopy of tree crowns. Cold water rushes and gurgles around the calves of my legs. Birds sing

My sisters cluster around me, sunlight reflecting off their naked wet bodies. The scene seems almost seems idyllic, like some kind of romanticist painting ... a far cry from the true peril of this day.

Tash laughs nervously, bending to playfully flick water at the rest of us. We all laugh. "Let"s take a little break," says Siss, "I think we kind of panicked back there."

"Yes," I chime in. "Messa was right. The hounds can't follow us in this stream and are probably far away chasing the others by now."

But the high spirits of our little self-congratulatory celebration are suddenly shattered by the yelping of the dog pack somewhere downstream. We freeze and listen as the yelping and baying is augmented by the sound of female voices yelling and cursing.

"Crap," says Blaire.

A moment later we see them ... coming around a bend ... a mass of naked girls ... dozens of them ... white skin framed against dark waters and foliage ... making their way frantically ... pushing and shoving ... splashing, falling, getting up again ... heading straight for us.

"Turn around. Run," yells Jane, her fat naked ass quivering as she clambers over a fallen log, plunges into a pool and wades to the other side. The rest of us follow, glancing over our shoulders as we fight our way upstream.

But after just a hundred yards we come to a sudden halt. A column of hunters on horseback is picking its way along the left bank of the stream.

"Crap, trapped," cries Blaire.

We reverse course, plunging back downstream toward the others. We meet in a broad fast-flowing stretch of water and everyone mills around in confusion, unsure of what to do next.

Messaline tries to rally our little group, jumping up and down and pointing towards the right bank and a narrow trail leading up and out of the steep-sided ravine.

A moment later the air is filled with volleys of arrow shafts, coming from two directions, that rain down on and rip into the mass of naked women. Screams and shrieks as the victims of these first fusillades throw up their hands, stagger about, and fall into the stream. I look in horror at a young redhead thrashing about in the water at my feet, a shaft stuck deep in her back. I retreat and fall backwards over a second body.

"Come on," yell Jane and Tash, leading the way out of the stream and up the slope. I rise to my feet and fight my way through the mass of terrified women milling about in the bloody waters of the stream just as another volley of shafts rain down.

The woman nearest me screams and spins around, a shaft through her throat. She grabs onto me as she goes down, warm blood spurting all over my chest. I shove her away and stumble over to the bank of the stream, and grasping a tree branch for support I begin scrambling up the slope.

Behind me the baying dogs have jumped into the fray, circling and herding their prey into an ever tighter space and adding to the unholy din in the stream bed behind me. I am partway up the slope, breathlessly following my sisters when hunters suddenly appear above us.

"Crap," cries Blaire.

A moment later she is impaled against a tree, a shaft through her belly. I stop dead in my tracks, appalled at the sight of her hanging from the tree, her arms and legs thrashing wildly, blood spurting from her mouth and nose.

Jane has been hit too. She comes rolling back down the slope like a log, her fat body bowling me over and sending me back down, arms flailing, into the water. I land on my back, draped over the legs of a girl lying face down in the water, two shafts protruding from her back.

A jab of pain shoots through me as I struggle to my feet. A shaft has embedded itself in my right thigh. I fall back into the water screaming, clutching my thigh with blood-covered hands. Lying on my side in the water and summoning all my strength, I grasp the shaft and pull it from my thigh, nearly passing out from the pain.

Sitting up in the water, flowing swiftly by me, red with blood, I survey the carnage. Bodies everywhere. The stream bed is literally carpeted with the dead and dying, lying face down or face up ... in some some cases, piled in grotesque heaps. A few yet unscathed, wander around in a daze.

I pull myself up on hands and knees and begin crawling through the bloody water toward the nearest body, lying face down, half submerged, the rounded twin cheeks of her butt out of the water, blonde hair wrapped around her head and shoulders, arrow shaft in her back.

Reaching her, I roll her over. "Oh Siss," I gasp, cradling her head in my arms. Her blue eyes flicker and open. I am about to say something, but am distracted by movement on the stream bank. I look up. The hunters are closing in, crossbows at the ready.

The slaughter is almost over. A few girls are still on their feet, cowering together not far from where I kneel in the water. The line of hunters come closer, stepping into the stream. The dogs snarling at their sides.

I look to the closest of them. And freeze ... transfixed by the intense gaze of the same bearded, dapper man from before. He smiles, mouths the words "my trophy", raises his weapon and sends a bolt through my right shoulder just above my breast.

I scream, flop backwards in the water propelled by the power of the penetrating shaft, my head striking a rock, the waters red with blood flowing over my face.

TO BE CONTINUED
Click to expand...

Oh Lord :eek:

That didn't go well :(

At least Barb's last words were "Oh Siss" rather than "Crap" ;)

But.....is she dead? :cool:

"TO BE CONTINUED" the Chronicler says....

:popcorn:
 
Barbaria1 said:
10.
​
Scrambling over logs, wading knee-deep through tranquil pools, splashing and sliding through frothy waters rushing over slippery rocks, we flee downstream from the macabre sight of a woman's skeletal remains skewered by an arrow shaft.

Not until we have fled hundreds of yards downstream, do we finally pull up to rest, panting and shaking from exertion, bathed in sweat, hands on knees, bunched together in the middle of the stream.

I look up finally, arching my back, hands clasped behind my head, taking in a bright blue sky and wispy white clouds visible through a canopy of tree crowns. Cold water rushes and gurgles around the calves of my legs. Birds sing

My sisters cluster around me, sunlight reflecting off their naked wet bodies. The scene seems almost seems idyllic, like some kind of romanticist painting ... a far cry from the true peril of this day.

Tash laughs nervously, bending to playfully flick water at the rest of us. We all laugh. "Let"s take a little break," says Siss, "I think we kind of panicked back there."

"Yes," I chime in. "Messa was right. The hounds can't follow us in this stream and are probably far away chasing the others by now."

But the high spirits of our little self-congratulatory celebration are suddenly shattered by the yelping of the dog pack somewhere downstream. We freeze and listen as the yelping and baying is augmented by the sound of female voices yelling and cursing.

"Crap," says Blaire.

A moment later we see them ... coming around a bend ... a mass of naked girls ... dozens of them ... white skin framed against dark waters and foliage ... making their way frantically ... pushing and shoving ... splashing, falling, getting up again ... heading straight for us.

"Turn around. Run," yells Jane, her fat naked ass quivering as she clambers over a fallen log, plunges into a pool and wades to the other side. The rest of us follow, glancing over our shoulders as we fight our way upstream.

But after just a hundred yards we come to a sudden halt. A column of hunters on horseback is picking its way along the left bank of the stream.

"Crap, trapped," cries Blaire.

We reverse course, plunging back downstream toward the others. We meet in a broad fast-flowing stretch of water and everyone mills around in confusion, unsure of what to do next.

Messaline tries to rally our little group, jumping up and down and pointing towards the right bank and a narrow trail leading up and out of the steep-sided ravine.

A moment later the air is filled with volleys of arrow shafts, coming from two directions, that rain down on and rip into the mass of naked women. Screams and shrieks as the victims of these first fusillades throw up their hands, stagger about, and fall into the stream. I look in horror at a young redhead thrashing about in the water at my feet, a shaft stuck deep in her back. I retreat and fall backwards over a second body.

"Come on," yell Jane and Tash, leading the way out of the stream and up the slope. I rise to my feet and fight my way through the mass of terrified women milling about in the bloody waters of the stream just as another volley of shafts rain down.

The woman nearest me screams and spins around, a shaft through her throat. She grabs onto me as she goes down, warm blood spurting all over my chest. I shove her away and stumble over to the bank of the stream, and grasping a tree branch for support I begin scrambling up the slope.

Behind me the baying dogs have jumped into the fray, circling and herding their prey into an ever tighter space and adding to the unholy din in the stream bed behind me. I am partway up the slope, breathlessly following my sisters when hunters suddenly appear above us.

"Crap," cries Blaire.

A moment later she is impaled against a tree, a shaft through her belly. I stop dead in my tracks, appalled at the sight of her hanging from the tree, her arms and legs thrashing wildly, blood spurting from her mouth and nose.

Jane has been hit too. She comes rolling back down the slope like a log, her fat body bowling me over and sending me back down, arms flailing, into the water. I land on my back, draped over the legs of a girl lying face down in the water, two shafts protruding from her back.

A jab of pain shoots through me as I struggle to my feet. A shaft has embedded itself in my right thigh. I fall back into the water screaming, clutching my thigh with blood-covered hands. Lying on my side in the water and summoning all my strength, I grasp the shaft and pull it from my thigh, nearly passing out from the pain.

Sitting up in the water, flowing swiftly by me, red with blood, I survey the carnage. Bodies everywhere. The stream bed is literally carpeted with the dead and dying, lying face down or face up ... in some some cases, piled in grotesque heaps. A few yet unscathed, wander around in a daze.

I pull myself up on hands and knees and begin crawling through the bloody water toward the nearest body, lying face down, half submerged, the rounded twin cheeks of her butt out of the water, blonde hair wrapped around her head and shoulders, arrow shaft in her back.

Reaching her, I roll her over. "Oh Siss," I gasp, cradling her head in my arms. Her blue eyes flicker and open. I am about to say something, but am distracted by movement on the stream bank. I look up. The hunters are closing in, crossbows at the ready.

The slaughter is almost over. A few girls are still on their feet, cowering together not far from where I kneel in the water. The line of hunters come closer, stepping into the stream. The dogs snarling at their sides.

I look to the closest of them. And freeze ... transfixed by the intense gaze of the same bearded, dapper man from before. He smiles, mouths the words "my trophy", raises his weapon and sends a bolt through my right shoulder just above my breast.

I scream, flop backwards in the water propelled by the power of the penetrating shaft, my head striking a rock, the waters red with blood flowing over my face.

TO BE CONTINUED
Click to expand...
Really gets me into the moment. Super stuff. Love it. Terrified and excited in equal measure!
 
Fantastic, Barb. So hopeful at the beginning and now all but over. I found myself getting quite angry at the massed pack of other quarry-women all clumping together up the stream. :doh::mad: They rather spoiled your day.:eek::D
I can't imagine the hunters found that as satisfying either. :rolleyes::p:cool:
 
Jollyrei said:
Fantastic, Barb. So hopeful at the beginning and now all but over. I found myself getting quite angry at the massed pack of other quarry-women all clumping together up the stream. :doh::mad: They rather spoiled your day.:eek::D
I can't imagine the hunters found that as satisfying either. :rolleyes::p:cool:
Click to expand...
The bastards didn't give a shit... nor did Joan Tree...

T
 
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