cayla vanderbaan

“I can see your treasury. By now, all of the loot from the church raids must be long spent, most likely on the arena, with any remaining money going to repairing damages from the Wassengel battle and the loss of Welindar’s revenue. That pile of gold is going to keep getting smaller and smaller. Either Galvin is going to bankrupt the country, he’ll raise taxes, or he has a new resource to exploit. So which is it?”

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Roc took to the air, flying in loops over the arena. People in the audience shielded their eyes from the sun and pointed at him, trying to keep him in their sights as his speed grew. As he built up his acceleration, he channeled mana into his right leg, and a sheath of energy enveloped eagle talons. “Decisive Divebomb,” he cast, prompting a magic circle to appear around his ankle. Beast Art, the combination of shamanism and monk magic. When he fought Aithorn, he could only use basic mana enhancement on his attacks, but by honing his monk magic by fighting Seraph over and over, his training back in the Ashok Mountains had been fruitful, and he had reached the league of true beastman warriors.

She finished sucking on the other nut, letting the ball drop back into place gently guiding it with her tongue. Sarah leaned back down and sucked the excess drool about to drip off the bottom of his sack. She stared down at his balls, glistening with her saliva in the moonlight like a freshly polished car. Well, she thought, she had given them a good wash. She had only meant to give them a quick taste, but she’d done everything she secretly wanted to do when she was tossing and turning in her bed last night. Well… almost everything.