Dynasty of Dovak

BY : JohnDoe
Category: +A through F > Exalted RPG
Dragon prints: 2113
Disclaimer: White Wolf, Exalted and Exalted 3rd Edition are all trademarks of White Wolf Publishing AB, and official characters, names, places and text are copyrighted by White Wolf. I do not own Exalted and I'm not making money from this fiction.

Session 38 – Reya (100XP 80DX, 75/59 spent; 3SP) – A Paragon *Smut*


The Guild Merchant the Dynasts rendezvous with is Diamond Iceheart, a “trader” in precious stones. As Donta and Aronia’s servants load up their traveling things, the Hearth confers.


“I can get us to Paragon in a couple of days.” Reya offers.


“But… my stuff?” Donta protests.


“Can come with the Guild. You can last a week without all your...” Reya’s words die in her throat as she sees the look on Donta’s face. “Fine, we’ll go the slow way.”


“Traveling is part of the adventure,” Aronia explains, “Don’t be,” She wiggles her hands around in mock sorcerous mudras, “Weird about it.”


“So seven days back to the sea, four days to sail to Paragon.” Reya pictures the journey in her head, she takes a deep breath, “Know much about Guild Merchants?”


“Iceheart or in general? They’re wealthy peasants. Patricians and House Cynis deal with them.” Aronia shrugs.


Donta swiftly adds, “I’m definitely going to marry someone from House Cynis. All the best drugs and slaves come from the Guild, but who has the time to deal with the Patricians? Let your husband handle it, I say.”


“But then,” Danireya leans in, “You have to deal with House Cynis.”


The girls burst out laughing, and Danireya continues, “Neither of you know anything out Iceheart?”


Aronia shrugs, “Daimother made the travel arrangements. I only plan on deviating from her itinerary if something goes wrong.”


“Sure but she didn’t brief you on-” Reya starts.


“Rey, we’re adults now.” Donta wraps an arm around her, “Don’t worry so much.” She hands Reya her axe and feigns a chop with her hands, “We’re touring the weaker states that glorify us with their tribute, with the mortal peasants who serve us. Save your paranoia for the Perfect.”


Reya shrugs it off and goes to introduce herself to Diamond Iceheart. A dozen wagons, pulled by camels and a single yeddim make up the caravan. She finds her traveling host at the head of the convoy astride a gray destrier, clearly eager to leave. She’s barking orders to the Guildsmen under her command.


Iceheart wears a white and azure thobe. A wicked glass saber of glass hangs at her hip. Her arms are adorned with two bracers of solid gold, each decorated with a large diamond. Her skin is tanned, much darker than Reya’s snowy paleness. Not as dark as Ganan’s rich caramel. In the prime of life, younger slightly in appearance than Theodosia, but plainer in the face. Her body muscled, stronger than Theodosia. Harder. Her chest is too small for Danireya’s tastes. The Dynast notes a pair of flame pieces, concealed within her clothing.


“Well met Merchant Prince. Thank you for your hospitality.” Reya hails her as she approaches.


Iceheart looks down from her horse, not bothering to dismount. She says something in Flametongue, that Reya doesn’t understand. Suddenly Reya notices that Lilian is behind her translating.


“What did she say?” Reya questions Donta’s retainer.


Lilian blanches, clearly worried that Reya was offended by her translation rather than simply not paying attention, “The honorable Merchant Prince says that ‘Dynast Silver spends as well as any.’”


“I see. And what business does the honorable Merchant Prince in Paragon?”


Lilian translates, “She sells gemstones.”


Unperturbed by the curt reply, “A tough business to be in, with Gem to the South. There must be lots of competition.”


Iceheart looks at Reya hard, then speaks in accented High Realm, “Where do you supposed I get my gemstones from?”


“You don’t honestly mean to tell me,” Reya says with a smile, “That you spend my grandmother’s silver on buying from Gem? And shipping thousands of miles for paltry profits.”


Iceheart’s eye’s narrow, “My profits are more than ‘paltry’!” She snaps.


“Oh clearly. I’m sure you’re just transporting Dynasts for the prestige of associating with the Dragon-Blooded.” Danireya curtsies.


Iceheart considers her position, “If you are coming to me with a proposal, now is the time to make it.”


Reya chuckles lightheartedly, “No, it isn’t.” She pats the side of Iceheart’s horse, affectionately. “We have two weeks together. Plenty of time to hear my House’s proposals.”

With that Reya smartly turns on her heel and walks away. Lilian bows and scrambles after her.


“Are you pissing off our ride for a reason or…?” Donta asks on her return.


“Just getting the lie of the land. If Iceheart works between Paragon and The Lap, and already sells gemstones and already has links to our House, then it makes sense to recruit the Guild now. We know the Despot keeps his independence from the Guild. We know that we will need intermediaries in the Threshold. The partnership just makes sense. Nanals could have arranged for us to travel with anyone, she doesn’t do things like this by accident.” Reya explains.




The first three days of the overland journey are uneventful. On the evening of the third day, the caravan beds down on the road between two caravansaries. Come the dawn, the Hot Shots are roused by the sounds of fighting. Quickly throwing her chain shirt over her bedclothes, Reya grabs her axe and dashes out to see the morning sky being lit by burning firedust.


Their attackers wear the dread colors of Sabaki mercenaries, menace of the Burning Sands.


In the thick of the fighting is Aronia, her fists a bur: like a heat-haze. All around her Sabaki fall to her flashing fists. A quick scan doesn’t reveal Donta, but Reya trusts that her niece can take care of herself, feeling her presence through their Kinship.


The Guildsmen and their mercenaries are trying to establish a battle-line to push their attackers back.


Reya sees an advancing enemy on horse-back and speaks the Burning Name, sending a gout of flame into the pouch of firedust at their hip. The explosion takes out her foe and their horse in a splatter of gore.

A Sabaki charges Reya, seeking to run her through with his bayonet. Reya sidesteps the blow and brings her axe down in a killing overhand chop.


Iceheart herself gallops out into the battle, her saber lashing out with deadly precision as she gallops through the camp. She bellows out a battle-cry in Flametongue, and her troops rally against the attackers.


Thick, acrid smoke rises from the back of a wagon struck by a stray gout of flame. Reya rushes to the wagon, scooping a barrel of yeddim water as she runs. She tears back the burning cloth of the wagon and dumps the water over the black bricks in canvas bags stocked up inside the wagon to quench the flames.


As Reya turns, she finds herself face-to-face with an attacker. Too late to raise her guard, it almost looks as if Reya is to be run-through… until a throwing knife lashes out from nowhere, hitting her opponent with the force of a bolder, knocking him to the floor. Reya looks and sees Donta slipping back into the shadows.


As Aronia sweeps through the ranks of their enemies like a brush-fire, the attacking Sabaki falter, then flee.


Aronia saunters up to Danireya’s side and starts to inspect the cart the raiders set alight. Donta also steps from the shadows to join her.


Iceheart rides up to Dragon-Blooded and haughtily thanks them for their assistance.


Aronia rips open a canvas bag from the back of the wagon and holds up one of the large black bricks, “What the fuck is this?” She questions.


Danireya looks at the black, tar-like substance. It’s clearly not a gemstone. “I believe that would be opium.” She says levelly.


“I know it’s fucking opium!” Aronia snaps, “I thought we were meant to be traveling with a diamond merchant, not an opium mule!”


Danireya notices Iceheart tense: her hand twitching almost imperceptibly for her sword. Danireya laughs loudly. She casts Aronia a reassuring look and motions for her to put the opium down. She raises her voice for the caravan to hear, “The sun is up and it’s time we made way!” (Lilian is suddenly at her side, translating into Flametongue.) Reya gestures at Iceheart and her hearth, “I think it’s time we had that little chat.”



The Dragons and the Merchant Prince make their way to the back of the yeddim, where they can talk in peace as the caravan moves out (Iceheart’s horse being led by a retainer). Lilian accompanies them, ostensibly to translate.


Danireya, knowing little of merchant practices, decides to bluff rather than rely on Donta’s business acumen. “It seems to me, good Merchant Prince, that whilst you would dearly love to make your fortune trading in rare and beautiful gemstones, you find yourself in the unenviable position of having to deal in filthy, black muck.”


It looks as if Iceheart is about to protest, but Danireya cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “My good sister is less than impressed by your business.” She gestures at Aronia, “And whilst I have no moral objection to your conduct, it would seem that we were attacked this morning because you are not a successful trader in rare gemstones. Or at least, not as successful as you might like. These raiders weren’t trying to burn your supply of diamonds, Iceheart.”


“And you have a proposal for me?” Iceheart says, her voice shrewd and measured.


“I don’t make business proposals to people I don’t know. House Mnemon is a family. We deal with family. With people we can trust.”


Iceheart leans back and spreads her palms, “The Despot of Gem takes his cut for all sales of gemstones. The Guild would like to further our position in this market, but the Despot’s agents – like the Sabaki – project Gem’s influence much further than the reach of the kingdom. Practically the entire Burning Sands, thousands of miles from Gem, are influenced by the Despot’s mercenaries and trading partners. So yes, I supplement my income by allowing the wealthy to travel with my caravan. And yes, I trade in goods other than gemstones to increase my profits.”


Reya rises, “And we’re done here. I gave you the chance to earn my trust, you sat there and lied to my face. Aronia-”


Aronia seems ready to punch the Merchant Prince’s teeth down her throat, adopting an attitude that seems like a natural disaster ready to happen.


“Wait!” Iceheart calls out, “Just wait.” Iceheart’s unflappable facade cracks. “The opium isn’t just to supplement income. The only other city that can rival Gem in the market for precious stones, is Paragon. But the Perfect has little interest in what happens outside the boarders of his city. The Guild is trying to… recruit Paragon against Gem, the opium is a part of that.”


“Was. It was a part of that.” Danireya says with confidence, “You see the Satrap of Paragon would very much like to raise the profile of the city in the gemstone trade. He’d very much like the Guild to be a part of this process. But he has also tasked us to address…” She gestures vaguely at the Merchant Prince, “This.”


“So you wish to trade the Soft Trade for Realm Influence? I admit it could work, what is your plan?”


“Gem projects its power too far. It’s too reliant on intermediaries, and it’s successfully alienating both the Guild and the Realm. I will speak plainly: the Realm will seize Gem’s northern most mining interests, the Guild will see the precious stones conveyed to Paragon for market. With the profits we will hire mercenaries to harry trade to Gem, and bring more mines under our mutual influence. The Guild will starve out trade to Gem.”


“It’s… an ambitious plan.” Iceheart says skeptically.


“And it would have been far more prudent of you to sit on the sidelines. Play both sides.” Reya smiles apologetically, “I’m afraid that’s no longer an option. Paragon hasn’t sent mercenaries against you. Gem has. Yet it is Paragon you seek to weaken with drugs? Forgivable cowardice if you had no other option. I’m giving you another option. Perfidy is enmity. Much as the Guild does not wish to make an enemy of the Realm.” Reya tents her fingers, her face becoming hard as ice, “You do not wish to make an enemy of me.”

“So my options are help you with your fools errand or die?”


“Your options are: help the Despot, who has tried to burn your profits, by poisoning your allies; or help the Princes of the Earth to increase Guild influence in the South.”


Iceheart considers, “Very well, when we reach Paragon, I will turn over the entire shipment of opium to the Satrap. As a sign of good faith.” She bows her head.


Danireya nods back, “Shall we toast?”


“We shall,” Iceheart produces a bottle, “Fine wine from Dem-Jin. Like nothing your Blessed Isle can produce.” She pours four glasses for herself and the Dynasts.


“Oh I don’t know about that,” Danireya responds, “There’s no soil like that of the Blessed Isle. We might all be drinking the wine of Scarlet V’neef in five years time.”


Iceheart smiles merrily, “The adventurer? Well stranger things have happened. To mutual prosperity.”


Reya raises her glass, “The diamond markets of Paragon.”




The journey to the sea is uneventful. Danireya expects the caravan to split, and take the yeddim overland, but the merchant vessels waiting for them swallow the beast into the bowels of the hold.


“Don’t worry,” Iceheart says in Flametongue, Lilian translating, “We will be traveling in the other ship. Shall we?”


The Guild merchants show the Dynasts and their servants to their shipboard quarters. Eventually Danireya is left alone with Diamond Iceheart.




“And this is my cabin.” Iceheart announces, opening the door for Reya to pass through.


“You want me to go into your cabin?” Reya enters, raising an eyebrow.


The Merchant Prince follows behind her, closing the door. She turns and opens her tunic, exposing her breasts, “Only if buscaba una cogida?”


Reya grins and moves in to kiss the wealthy merchant prince, she wraps her arms around her, “I really don’t speak Flametongue.” She moans in a sultry voice as she kisses her.


Iceheart just smiles and gently starts to walk forward, driving Reya back towards the bed. Her hands flutter over Reya’s clothes, undressing her. Her hands feel rough on Danireya’s skin, the sensation sending flutters through her body. Reya feels herself growing wet with anticipation.


Reya gracefully walks back, tugging at Iceheart’s sash, and helping her out of her pants as they find the bed. Reya sprawls back on the bed, an eclectic pile of silks and furs, and spreads her legs lewdly. She locks eyes with Iceheart, and pulls the pin from her bun. She shakes her blonde hair down and tosses it seductively. She squeezes her own breast with one hand as the other goes between her legs, stroking the softness of her smooth pussy.


Iceheart climbs on top of her hungrily, stripping off the last of her clothes, and revealing herself to be shaved smooth like Reya. “I am no come coños. I have something though.” She makes a scissor motion with her hands, “Hacer la tijera, but better. Consolador dobles. Much better, I think, with a Dragon-Blooded.”


She produces a rod, the color of her tanned flesh. For a moment, Danireya’s eyes grow wide at the length of the thing before realization sets in that both ends are rounded.


Iceheart spreads her legs, takes her end of the double dildo and rubs it against her slit, she looks up at Danireya, her breathing quickening as she urges her to do the same.


As Danireya takes the rod in her hand, she feels the pulse of an artifact under her fingers. She’s never encountered a Heavenly Ecstasy Aide like this one before. She feels her pulse quicken, the hairs on her body stand on end. Slowly she works the device inside of her.


Iceheart shuffles closer to her, working more of the toy inside. Her legs slip over Danireya’s as they scissor together. She reaches for Reya, pulling her close, embracing her, drawing her in – hungry for her lips.


Danireya feels the sensation of the dildo penetrating her. Filling her. Stretching her in all the right ways. She embraces Iceheart, kissing her, fondling her.


Iceheart grinds her groin against Danireya. Entangled in her legs, the warm flesh of their thighs rubbing together.


Danireya smiles wickedly and sends a pulse of Essence into the toy. It starts to hum and vibrate.


Iceheart throws her head back and moans throatily as the unexpected vibrations hit her like a hammer, coursing through her body, making her moan. She thrusts frantically, at Danireya, bucking wildly.


Danireya herself is surprised by the intensity of the sensation, but maintains her discipline. She rocks methodically against Iceheart, building a rhythm between their bodies, leading them slowly towards their orgasm.


Iceheart breathes deeply, settling into the rhythm Danireya sets, allowing her body to follow the Dragon’s lead. She breathes out a stead stream of words in Flametongue, Danireya isn’t sure if it’s sweet nothings, professions of love or a stream of profanity.


“You like that, don’t you.” Danireya says with pride, her hands finding the cleft of Iceheart’s bum. She gropes the flesh, pulling her lover towards her.


Si.” Iceheart chokes out desperately, leaning her upper-body back to get more leverage with her hips, grinding against Danireya.


Danireya’s eyes drink in Iceheart’s breasts, watching her chest rise and fall with every thrust. The Merchant Prince’s body bears a dozen small scars, testament to life on the road.


Iceheart moans, and starts to falter in her rhythm, but Danireya’s hands on her rear drive her to keep fucking.


At last Danireya can’t take it any more. She lets go of Iceheart and leans back, bracing her body on her hands to leverage more pressure on her grinding pelvis. She feels Iceheart’s warmth, and the slick wetness of her arousal.


Iceheart drives back hard into her. The vibrating toy between them, sends a crashing wave of pleasure on every thrust. They come together: contracting in time around the toy.

Danireya allows the vibrations to die, and collapses back on the bed, giggling softly. They untangle from each other, and Iceheart moves to lie beside her.


Después de una cogida, a mi novia y a mí nos gusta fumarnos un cigarro.” Iceheart produces some tobacco rolled in fine paper, she sticks a wooden rod into the lamp by her bedside, and uses the embers to light the tobacco as she inhales on it. She offers the cigarro to Reya.


Reya wrinkles her nose, and slips out of bed, “No, thank you.” She starts to dress.


Iceheart waves her sex toy at her, “You’re going to do that to me, then leave without a cigarro? I thought the Realm was civilized!” She teases, reclining in her bed, clearly at ease.


Reya smiles back at her and ties her hair back up, “It’s a four day voyage, correct?”


Iceheart nods an affirmative and takes a long drag on her cigarette, watching Reya dress. She lazily drifts a hand between her legs.


Reya makes an appreciative noise of consideration through her nose. “Hmm.” She finishes dressing and walks out, not looking back as Iceheart loudly brings herself off again.




After four days at sea, the Guild ships make port in Paragon. They unload their wares and the Hot Shots part company with the Guild. The city sits on the confluence of two mighty rivers, and olive trees grow in abundance. Black basalt walls ring the city, which is well served by straight smooth roads cut from slabs of the same stone.


They see the delivery of opium is taken straight to the Realm garrison in the city, where they meet with Mnemon Zaval, the Satrap of Paragon. Zaval is a man of some experience, clearly lacking in political ambition to end up the Satrap in Paragon. Within seconds of meeting the man, it’s clear to Danireya that his tenure as Satrap should be over – he speaks as if he were a local of the city, and if the Perfect was his ruler rather than the Empress. Reya wonders to herself whether he’s yet to be replaced because no-one else from her House wants the appointment or whether the Empress and the Deliberative are keeping him in the post for a reason.


Regardless, she informs Zaval of their successful negotiations with the Guild as they walk through the Realm’s armed outpost.

“Good work. This will help Paragon immensely!” Zaval thanks them, enthusiastically.


“And the Realm.” Danireya adds, pointedly.


“Indeed, indeed.” Zaval makes an idle gesture of dismissiveness, “Speaking of...” He seems to flounder for the correct word, “Home. You are not our only guests of honor.”


Zaval arrives at a squat marble building. The accommodations inside are only a little finer than those at the Heptagram – though the building is large enough to house the Dynasts and their dozen servants. Donta seems especially affronted, though Aronia shows no sign of discomfort. Zaval leads the Hot Shots through the building, and out the other side as the servants unpack. Two small tables have been set for them.


Citizens of Paragon, bearing the strange brand that binds them to the will of the Perfect and dressed in dull gray, appear bring dates, olives and hot coffee to refresh the Dynasts.


“Oh, who else of note has arrived in the city?” Donta inquires. To Reya it’s obvious that she’s trying to secure upgraded accommodations.


Zaval simply smiles in silence, as a woman of outstanding beauty strides into view, as if on cue. Her skin at once seems as if of fine, unblemished porcelain but also flush with excitement and a life of adventure. Her hair a deep, fiery red – brighter even than Mnemon’s. Her every movement vital and screaming with Wood Essence. A jade power-bow is set on her back, and her sensible yet immaculate traveling robe is set with twin mons. The second mons is in descendancy, for any other House it would perhaps mark an inferior, as a Dynast who deigned to marry into a Cadet House might wear. But this is the mark of House Tepet, perhaps the only Great House to truly rival the power of Mnemon. On any other person, perhaps the mark of an engagement – a husband-to-be’s house respectfully placed descendant so as not to cause presumption. The ascendant mons belies this. It is the mons of the Scarlet Empress herself.


Donta and Aronia stare, literally agape, as the woman approaches, her hips and red hair swaying in vivacious beauty. A wolf of uncanny size plods at her heels. The woman sizes them up, noting the mons of House Mnemon, and she bows graciously on reaching their tables. Zaval bows deeply, doubling at the waist.


The woman extends a hand to Danireya, who becomes aware of the fact that she’s forgotten to breathe. She introduces herself, “Scarlet V’neef. Satrap Zaval mentioned that we were expecting three of his cousins to arrive.” V’neef smiles warmly at each of them, “I was expecting portly old men, not such hearty adventurous ladies as yourselves.” V’neef’s eyes flick up and down Danireya’s body, sending a frisson of electricity running through her.


Danireya blinks herself awake, forcing herself not to check-out her great-grand aunt. “And we are equally charmed to be in the presence of your august personage. Mnemon Alinos Danireya, and my companions Mnemon Alinos Donta and Aronia” She takes V’neef’s hand and bows to kiss it. Danireya’s eyes flick deliberately to the House Tepet mons, “Is your husband here?”


V’neef withdraws her hand and takes a cup of coffee from a servant, she blows on it considering her choice of words, “No, Tepet Igan remains on the Blessed Isle.”


“A pity.” Danireya feigns disappointment, “I was just a little girl when you married. By all accounts it was a fairy tale wedding that broke ten thousand hearts.”


“You are too kind,” V’neef demures, smiling widely at Danireya.


The giant wolf, rubs affectionately up against V’neef’s legs.


Danireya looks V’neef right in the eyes, “May I pet your wolf?”


V’neef holds her gaze, “If you are bold enough.”


Danireya approaches Hundred Rivers, and kneels by his side at V’neef’s feet. She looks up at the daughter of the Empress as she fearlessly bares her neck and strokes at the giant wolf’s mane vigorously.


Hundred Rivers licks Danireya’s face, causing V’neef to laugh with amusement, “He likes you.”


Danireya blinks the wolf spittle out of her eyes, and smartly rises. A Paragonese servant quickly hands her a towel, and Danireya wipes her face with as much dignity as she can muster. “I like him too.”


“The Perfect has invited Zaval, a few of the officers and I to dinner. I would be honored if the three of you would join us as my guests.” V’neef takes care to address all three of the Hot Shots.


Aronia makes a squeaking noise in the back of her throat, but Donta curtsies graciously.


“We would be honored to accompany you.” Reya bows, and is rewarded with another warm smile.


V’neef finishes her coffee and withdraws with the Satrap, leaving the Hot Shots alone to enjoy their refreshments.


“Pinch me.” Donta says in all seriousness. Aronia thumps her playfully in the leg.


“Did you see her checking Danireya out!” Aronia teases, having found the power of speech in V’neef’s absence.


Danireya turns scarlet, “She wasn’t ‘checking me out’!” She protests, “Besides she’s my… grand-daimother’s sister. She’s Mnemon’s sister!”


Aronia shakes her head in disbelief, “I can’t believe she’s grand-daimother’s sister. She’s so… And Mnemon is so…”


Donta counts on her fingers, “Wait, so she’s my great-grand-dai-aunt?” Her brow furrows.


Reya nods reassuringly at Donta, then turns her attention to Aronia, “If anyone was checking anyone out, you were checking out V’neef!” She accuses, and she echos the embarrassing squeaky noise Aronia made.


Aronia and Donta look at each other incredulously then say in union, “May I pet your wolf?


“What!?” Reya fires back defensively, “It is a magnificent animal!”


Aronia holds Donta by the waist, “Kiss me you magnificent animal!” She mocks.


Donta rejoins, “Is your husband home?”


The two fake kiss, making loud “mwah” noises.


V’neef clears her throat from behind Reya’s back, “I forgot to mention that I’ll pick you up at sundown.”


Reya jumps out of her skin as Aronia and Donta freeze stock still and turn bright red, still locked with their arms around each other. Reya turns slowly, mortified, and cursing herself for not hearing V’neef approach.


V’neef smiles at her with a kindhearted, yet slightly condescending amusement.


“We will be on our best behavior.” Reya promises.


V’neef reaches behind Reya and pulls the pin from her hair, “I’d like you to wear your hair down for dinner.” She says, as she turns and walks away again.


Reya feels a flush of heat, and openly stares as V’neef walks away.

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