Into the Barrow

Slutcat and Sworddog moved to the left, creeping towards the lofty Barrow.

“I only see two. I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves,” Slutcat suggested.

“Oh, like that bandit up in the tower introduced himself? Slutcat, you know what we need to do here.”

She sighed, resigned that this world was going to force her to become a killer. At least she was a pretty good one now.

“Nothing like learning the insignificance of life to get one’s blood pumping. Well, let’s go for it. You go for the archer and I’ll take down the big green dude with the nasty hammer.”

The two actually made a pretty good team. Sworddog was fast enough to get upon the archer quickly while Slutcat was able to take out the big Orsimer by just hanging on her Spark spell while backing away. There was a brief moment of panic when her magic sputtered out, but she was also able to outrun pretty much anything and by that time Sworddog was back to help out from behind. Another archer appeared surprisingly, but by that time she’d recovered her magical reserves and the two made short work of the last bandit.

“Anything on that one?” Slutcat asked while rummaging through one corpse.

“Nothing much. No golden claw,” Sworddog replied, trotting back over to her.

“If everybody weren’t so goddamned bloodthirsty around here there’d be a lot less death.”

“Well, they are bandits,” Sworddog pointed out.

“Yeah, but why do they have to attack everybody? I mean, it’s not like I have some sort of Badge of Law Enforcement on or anything!”

“How about this,” suggested the dog, “Next time you walk up to them and ask them nicely if you can join their group? I’m sure that will go well.”

“I get the point. Oh! You’re hurt! Want some healing potion?”

“Maybe just a sip. I have a feeling that stuff isn’t easy to come by around here.”

“Probably not. You know, some people would think it’s unsanitary to drink from the same bottle as a dog.”

“I agree. I know what you put in your mouth!”

“Cute.”

The too stood and looked at the main entrance of the Barrow.

“Let’s go in quietly. These were likely just the lookouts,” Sworddog said.

“You know, they kinda suck as lookouts. Isn’t the point to tell the others when trouble comes? These guys just… died.”

Sworddog looked back at the bodies. “Well, yeah, they are kinda dumb.”

“Whoa!” Slutcat said as she looked at the huge door to the Barrow. “What huge…”

“DON’T SAY IT! Don’t! I swear if you say ‘knockers’ I’m going to leave you right here and now Slutcat. I mean it!”

“Jeeze! Alright, alright. Just be quiet.”

The space they entered into was huge, but dark and lit by a fire at the far side. Some figures were seen near the fire but they didn’t notice the two interlopers enter.

“Say, I think I’ll try this bow and arrow. Maybe we can even the odds a bit before we’re seen,” Slutcat whispered.

“Good idea. Stealth archer. I bet nobody ever thought of being a stealth archer before,” Sworddog whispered back, sarcasm dripping.

Slutcat pulled out an arrow and pulled back on the drawstring. She may have managed to bend the string over an inch, but just barely. She let the arrow fly.
It skittered to the floor all of three feet in front of them, not even drawing any attention from the bandits by the fire.

“So much for the stealth archer idea,” Sworddog said while Slutcat stowed the bow and arrows back into her inventory.

Her hands were soon filled with the blue glow of her spark spell. “I know, I know. No upper body strength. Let’s go.”

They listened to the bandits talk for a bit while they crept closer. Finally they attacked and the battle, such as it was, was over in no time.

“Hey! Check it out!” Slutcat said as she played with the body of one of the bandits.

“Oh, that’s just morbid. Did you have to undress her first?”

“Heheh. Look! She’s guarding the treasure!”

“Just see if the claw is in there and let’s go,” Sworddog complained while Slutcat tried different poses on the corpse.

“Oh jeeze! You pervert!”

“Hey! I’m not a pervert. I’m a slut. There’s a difference!” Slutcat explained, then got to the task of unlocking the chest under the corpse.

“Nothing much. I guess we’ll have to go further in,” Slutcat said, standing up and looking around.

“Like you expected anything different?” Sworddog asked her partner.

“No. Not really. Let’s go quietly.”

“Of course. Place sort of screams ‘quiet’ anyway.”

As they descended deeper into the Barrow, the cobwebs became more numerous until they reached a place where the cobwebs were literally from wall to wall.

“Oh, I don’t like this…” Slutcat said, crawling along nervously.

“Say, did you see any other path OTHER than this one?” Sworddog asked her.

“Well, no. Why?”

“Because no one could pass this way without breaking these webs. So in theory at least, there’s nobody in front of us! Are you alright?”

“As long as there’s none of those giant spiders, I’m okay,” Slutcat laughed weakly.

Quest Begins

“I just want to thank you for helping us, Ralof. We’ll miss you,” said Slutcat after they’d risen.

“Keep working on those spells, Slutcat. We could use a good mage in the Stormcloaks. All I ask is that you consider joining us at Windhelm. But even if not, it’s been quite an experience. I don’t think I’ve ever met a khajiit like you.”

Slutcat reached up and gave the big Stormcloak a hug and kiss, before she watched him leave the house.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me again, Sworddog,” she said, a little sadly.

“What’s this ‘we’? I’m going with Ralof!” Sworddog replied and started heading for the door.

Slutcat grabbed her by the tail. “HEY! You can’t leave me!”

The dog chuckled. “Just kidding. I can’t open doors.”

“Before we go, how about we look around town a little bit? Maybe visit that shop we saw earlier?” Slutcat suggested.

“Sure! You might want to visit that blacksmith too. You may learn something.”

The blacksmith’s eyes grew wide when he saw the buxom khajiit approach.

“Hi stud. So, you make armor and stuff around here?”

“Er… yes! I’m the local blacksmith. What can I do for you? Perhaps some armor? A pair of pants? Some underwear even?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. But I thought it might be a good idea to learn how to make things. Maybe I can help you or something in return?”

“Sure! Here, here’s some iron. Try your hand at the forge and see if you can turn this into a dagger…”

She spent an hour with the blacksmith, learning the basics of how to work the forge and other tools.

“He was kind of nice, wasn’t he?” Slutcat asked her companion as she stepped down into the street.

“I’ll say! I guess not everyone around here is a bloodthirsty asshole.”

“He even let me keep the dagger!”

Suddenly an aged voice from across the street called out to her, “Gonna get cold tonight. Might want to cover your delicates.”

Slutcat turned and walked over to where an old lady was standing on her patio, working a tanning rack. “Why does everyone say that?” she asked the old lady. “I’ll have you know my delicates are just fine as they are! And who’s this ‘Ysmir’ and what is it about his beard anyway?”

The lady stood and looked at her. “You’re not from around here, are you khajiit?”

Slutcat frowned and looked down at herself, back to the old lady, then back down at herself again. “What gave it away? I bet it was the tail.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, young lass! You and your big perky tits. Just take it from me, the day will come when you’ll wish you’d worn something to hold those things up!”

“Well, I appreciate your concern. But me and my big perky tits are doing just fine. And if I ever find this ‘Ysmir’, I’ll be sure to cover my delicates with his beard.”

The old lady laughed at that. “Oh you’re a frisky cat! But Ysmir is just a name for some old king. It’s a title of sorts. Though I hear Jarl Balgruuf has a pretty impressive… beard. And he’s single too.”

Slutcat’s ears perked up at that. “Oh really? Well it just so happens I’m supposed to go talk to this Jarl Balgruuf fellow. Whiterun right?”, she said to which the old woman nodded. She continued, “But what is a ‘Jarl’? I know it’s not his name because someone mentioned another Jarl to me recently.”

“A Jarl is… well. I guess like a Lord. He is the ruler of Whiterun and the area around it. Including Riverwood.”

“I see. Well thanks ma’am. I’ll let you know if I get him to cover my delicates,” Slutcat laughed and headed off in the direction of the general store.

“Weird word, ‘Jarl’,” she muttered to Sworddog as they walked down the road. “I think that’s the sound you make when some guy blows his load in your mouth.”

“Speak for yourself!” Sworddog said indignantly.

“I cnt,” Slutcat garbled, poking her cheek with her tongue. “Mu mthths’ fuul”.

“Oh you bipeds are DISGUSTING!” Sworddog groaned.

Slutcat was laughing as they entered the store. Within, the shopkeep was in full argument mode with another lady. Apparently someone had broken into his shop and stole some sort of golden talisman in the shape of a claw. She bought a little food but then the owner made her an offer if she could go to Bleak Falls Barrow where he thought the thieves were and get the claw back.

“A quest eh? What do you think Sworddog? Want to go rob some robbers? We could certainly use the gold.”

The dog shrugged as only a dog can. “Sure. Why not? I think we’re pretty good in a fight now that you’ve got your Spark spell. Let’s go for it!”

Slutcat turned back to the shopkeeper and agreed to take on the mission. The lady, Camilla, turned out to be the shopkeeper’s sister and she walked with them to the bridge out of town, explaining how to get to the Barrow. before they left her.

Other than a lone wolf attack, the climb up towards the Barrow was pretty uneventful, but even Sworddog helped her take down the wolf this time.

“I thought you said…” Slutcat began as they continued upwards.

“A bitch. We can kill bitches. Kill ALL the bitches,” Sworddog said, licking the blood from her muzzle.

“Well! You’ve certainly become a bloodthirsty savage since a few days ago.”

“When in Rome…”

“SHHH!” hissed Slutcat, looking towards the camera. “That phrase doesn’t work here!”

Before they got to the Barrow, however, they saw a small tower with a couple of people. Slutcat waved to them, hoping they would let her use their bathroom. But they were having none of it.

“Come no closer.” the woman warned, while her mate said “That’s far enough!” menacingly.

“But, I really have to go! I promise I won’t, like, use all your toilet paper or anything!”

Suddenly the man attacked, but Slutcat was ready for him and had her spark spell out in an instant.

His one blow glanced off her vest as she knew it would and then he was down.

But an arrow flew by too close for comfort and she knew from past experience that arrows seemed to be immune to her inverse-proportionality-armor rule.

However, Sworddog was already on the woman before she could nock another arrow and with her added spark attack, she too was down.

Her body fell over the side of the small bridge leading to the tower and Slutcat looked over the side to verify she was dead. Then she relieved herself from the bridge.

“Oh, that’s harsh,” Sworddog winced.

“Well, she’s dead anyway and I gotta go!”

“But… right THERE?”

Slutcat smiled an evil smile. “When you gotta go…”

Inside the tower Slutcat found a nice little bag of gold and a few more odds and ends she thought might be worth holding onto before she began to climb to higher floors. One door led to an outside ramp of sorts and she felt a strong sense of vertigo as she climbed it.

“Never heard of fucking HANDRAILS here?” she complained to Sworddog.

Once on the higher floor they were surprised by another bandit, but he made the idiotic mistake of announcing his presence rather than using surprise to his advantage. He did land one blow on Sworddog’s armor before the Sparks felled him, but Sworddog refused any healing potion.

“No,” she said as she urinated on the dead body. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, I thought you said…” Slutcat said.

“…you gotta GO!” Sworddog snickered as they climbed the last stair where a large chest awaited them. It wasn’t even locked and Slutcat’s eyes glistened as she opened it. Within, though, there was no Golden Claw, though there was a large amount of gold that she was pleased to store in her magical inventory.

“I guess we have to go to the actual Barrow after all.”

“Looks like it,” said Sworddog as they left the tower and proceeded further up the trail.

The day was getting towards late afternoon as they turned a corner and caught sight of the Barrow.

“Big sucker,” Sworddog noted as they stopped to watch for anyone ahead.

“And kinda scary looking,” Slutcat had to admit. “I think I see some people wandering around too. Think they’ll just let us in?”

“I doubt it,” Sworddog said. “I think I feel the urge to pee again.”

“Me too,” Slutcat said, crouching low and readying her Sparks.

Furry Chastity

The sky was growing brighter as they continued down the path towards Riverwood.

“So, do you have a girlfriend or something?” Slutcat asked Ralof.

“Sort of.”

“Oh, one of those on-again, off-again things?”

“No. We’re pretty serious. But… he’s my boyfriend,” Ralof said. “It’s not exactly something we publicize here in Skyrim.”

“Oh! I see,” Slutcat said, somewhat dejected. “Well, that’s okay. I like you anyway.”

“I appreciate that. I like you too, Slutcat. Friends?”

Slutcat nodded, “Friends. That was a pretty impressive kiss though. Considering.”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m immune or anything. I just like this other guy. A lot.”

“Well alright. I’ll stay out of your pants then if you want me to. But…”

Suddenly two wolves were upon them. Ralof instantly had his axe in hand and was laying into the first, but the other was attacking from behind. Slutcat took a second before remembering she wasn’t helpless and then she had her spark spells in hand and began laying into the second wolf.

Though it took less than a minute before they were both put down, her heartbeat still racing even as they resumed their journey.

“Oh my God! Is it normal to be attacked by wolves like that?”

Ralof nodded. “Yes, though it’s unusual for only a couple to attack. That small a pack usually would leave travelers alone. Be on the lookout for more. Maybe you should keep your spell ready.”

“I will!” she said, taking his arm.

“Did you really have to kill them?” asked a voice behind them. Both turned around to see Sworddog with a forlorn face.

“Sworddog? Well, yes! I mean, they attacked us!” Slutcat pointed out. “Why?”

“I think they just wanted to meet me.”

“Meet you?”

“Well, I’m sort of in heat right now. They were pretty nice looking wolves, didn’t you think?”

Slutcat looked at Ralof who shrugged. “I… suppose.”

“Well, if any more should come around, would you mind terribly not killing them? And maybe leave me and them alone for a while?”

The three continued on their way while Slutcat and Sworddog debated.

“Wait. Wasn’t it you that told me to leave Ralof alone? Aren’t you being hypocritical?” Slutcat asked, feeling a little pissed off.

“Yeah, but you get to fuck all the time! It’s not the same!” Sworddog whined.

“Have you seen me get laid yet? Even once?”

"Not for lack of trying,” Sworddog protested.

Slutcat nodded, “That’s so. Okay, if we see any more, we’ll leave you to ‘em. Unless they attack us. Sound good Ralof?”

“Fine by me! Sworddog can have a doggy orgy as far as I’m concerned!”

“One can only hope,” Sworddog said, snickering. “Thank you Ralof. And Slutcat.”

“You don’t think they’d hurt you do you? I mean, you are a dog, not a wolf,” said Slutcat, a note of concern in her voice.

“And you’re a cat, not a human. But I don’t see you worrying about Ralof. You know your kind, I know mine. I’ll be fine.”

“Well okay, but if you get knocked up, don’t come looking to me to babysit a litter of puppies!”

On the way, Ralof pointed out an odd looking structure atop a ridge on the far side of the river.

“Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could stand living in the shadow of that place. I guess you get used to it.”

“A ‘barrow’? What’s a ‘barrow’?”

“It’s the resting place of the ancient dead. Dreadful place.”

“So, kind of like a graveyard? Yeah, I don’t think I’d like living next to it either. But it’s not like they’re going to attack or anything.”

Ralof gave her an odd look. “Probably not,” he agreed, though Slutcat didn’t get any tone of sarcasm. She passed it off as a local mannerism.

They arrived with the morning sun still low on the horizon, but with it’s rising Slutcat found herself somewhat renewed. They met with Ralof’s sister Gerdur at the lumber mill near the edge of town. Along with Gurder was a man named Hod and a boy named Frodnar. While Gurder was outwardly friendly enough, Slutcat got the distinct impression that she was a little upset with Slutcat’s choice of clothing. For his part, her husband Hod was the opposite and Slutcat was frankly delighted with his surreptitious smiles and stares. She even made sure her vest accidentally flew loose for his benefit a couple of times.

However, before long the need for sleep returned and Slutcaat retired to Gurder’s cabin with Ralof and Sworddog.

“Don’t worry you two,” Gurder said as they entered the cabin. “I’ll keep Frodnar out. You’ll have complete privacy. There’s some oil under the bed if you need it.”

“GURDER!” Ralof cried.

“Well, only if you need it!” she explained loudly, making it clear that the intended audience was actually her husband.

Once inside, Slutcat undressed alongside Ralof and they snuggled together for a little. Annoyingly, Sworddog also jumped up and lay his head down on Slutcat’s belly though, as if preventing her from doing anything more than snuggling. But Slutcat restrained her instincts and kept her hands mostly to herself.

“So, what’s with the belt anyway? It doesn’t do anything,” Ralof asked as she removed it from her waist.

“Oh, it’s a style thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

Ralof nodded. “Probably not. Listen, when we wake up, I’m heading to Windhelm. I need to see how Ulfric fared. Unless you want to join up with the Stormcloaks, I’m afraid I have to leave you then.”

Slutcat turned to him, laying her breasts on his chest. “I’m not ready for that Ralof. I wouldn’t make a good soldier. No, I think I’ll go meet this Jarl of Whiterun that Gurder was talking about. I guess I should tell him about the dragon too. But maybe I’ll meet you again.”

Ralof nodded and they chatted a bit more before Ralof fell to sleep. Slutcat wasn’t far behind and she dreamed peacefully for the most part. As for Sworddog, she stayed planted atop Slutcat’s belly like a living chastity belt – with teeth.

A Romantic Interlude

Author’s note: A lot of images with this one. Tumblr seems to stop displaying them after 10 if you’re reading the “post”. You can go here for the whole thing without having to click the image links past 10.

https://slutcatandsworddog.tumblr.com/post/166547686293/a-romantic-interlude

They crept past the bear without incident, though Slutcat did make a comment about how Sworddog wasn’t even sneaking yet they still passed without waking the beast.

“Well, maybe I’m just naturally quiet.” Sworddog protested.

“Sure you are. With all those swords on your back rattling around. Quiet as a mouse.”

Sworddog looked at his back. “Slutcat, there’s only one blade on my back and it’s an ebony dagger. In a sheath.”

“SHHHH! We don’t talk about that! It’s a bunch of bare swords and don’t forget it. Now let’s move on,” Slutcat said, stealing a glance at the audience and the heinously inept author-cum-modder who couldn’t make a proper Sworddog mod.

Ralof had gone on ahead as they passed a large, lit fire.

“Wait,” Slutcat stopped, looking at the fire. “Who lit that?”

“They must have some magical cave-gnomes that keep all torches lit and refueled. I guess,” Sworddog postulated, though Slutcat was unconvinced.

But Ralof was calling to them, “That looks like the way out! I knew we’d make it!”

They stepped out into a dark and starry night, but instantly the screech of a dragon far overhead had Ralof huddling behind a rock.

“Wait! There he goes. Looks like he’s gone for good this time. No way to know if anyone else made it out alive. But this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We’d better clear out of here. My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I’m sure she’d help you out. It’s probably best if we split up. Good luck. I wouldn’t have made it without your help today. You know, you should go to Windhelm and join the fight for free Skyrim. You’ve seen the true face of the Empire here today. If anyone will know what the coming of the dragon means, it’s Ulfric.”

“Um… Ralof. There’s something I should tell you,” Slutcat said, continuing to walk beside the big Nord. “I’m not from around here. You might say I’m from another world, though technically that’s not accurate.”

Sworddog interrupted, “Slutcat! Are you sure you want to be telling this?”

Slutcat shook her head at her canine friend. “We’d be dead without Ralof’s help too Sworddog. But we still need his help.”

“What? What should I know?” Ralof asked, continuing to walk down the trail.

“It’s hard to explain, but we’re kinda from your future. I don’t know much of anything about this place,” Slutcat admitted.

“That does explain a lot. Like why you don’t talk like the other khajiits for one,” Ralof mused. “And you didn’t know about healing potions… Maybe you’d better stay with me till we reach Riverwood anyway.”

Slutcat agreed, “Thanks Ralof. I really wouldn’t know where to go anyway. Can I… um… Can I give you a hug?”

Ralof stopped and took the khajiit in his arms. “Of course you can. But nothing more! It’s late and it’s dangerous to be out in the wild at night.”

“Hey! Why don’t I get a hug?” Sworddog protested, but no one was listening. When the hug turned into a rather passionate kiss, she started barking. “Hey! That’s enough of THAT! You’re not alone here you know. I swear Slutcat if you start mating with this big lug I’ll piss on you both! STOP THAT!”

The two finally separated, Ralof looking embarrassed.

“Sorry Slutcat. I know you would like more from me. But I can’t.”

Slutcat started strolling down the path happily anyway. “Oh, no problem Ralof. No problem at all. Sometimes a girl just needs to know she still has ‘it’, you know? I was beginning to think something was wrong with me. Just consider that kiss as payment for services rendered. Now where’s this Riverwood place? A girl needs her beauty rest you know!”

“Nothing wrong with you, Slutcat,” Ralof assured her, catching up. “It’s still a way off though.”

They walked side by side down the trail with Sworddog following close behind as the moon dropped lower across the sky and morning birds began to call. Before long they came to three odd stone pillars.

Ralof stopped and ushered Slutcat up onto the platform where the stones stood. “These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim’s landscape. Go ahead, see for yourself. If you touch them, they’re said to bestow a blessing according to your path in life. One for the mage, one for the warrior, and that one for the thief.”

Slutcat looked at the stones. “A blessing for a thief? You know, thievery isn’t exactly an approved life-path where I come from. Do they LIKE thieves here or something?”

“Oh no. If you’re caught stealing the authorities will assess a fine or throw you in prison.”

“Seems odd that someone would make a one of these for thieves then. Where’s the Murderer’s Stone?”

Ralof chuckled. “I don’t think there is one for Murderers or Assassins.”

Slutcat looked at her companion. “Think they’ll work on Sworddog?” she asked Ralof.

Ralof considered the question a moment then shrugged. “Maybe. She can talk, so I suppose so.”

“Thanks for noticing me, lover boy,” Sworddog said. She walked over directly to the Warrior Stone and touched it with her paw. Nothing happened.

“I thought there would be, like… sparks or something. Shouldn’t something happen?” Slutcat asked.

“Nothing you can see. They’re supposed to help in your chosen path, but who knows if they really do anything. Seems like a lot of effort to build them if they don’t do anything though, doesn’t it?” Ralof pointed out.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a lot of effort was put into something worthless. Looks like three giant dildos to me.” Slutcat said as she looked at the engraved images.

“Oh no. These are far too big for giant women. They prefer rounded off mammoth tusks.”

“No, I didn’t mean dildos for giants… Wait!!!” Slutcat turned to face Ralof with a shocked look.

“Well, they do!” he protested.

“Do you often watch giant women with their mammoth tusks?” Slutcat eyed Ralof with a lewd expression.

“You know… when you’re a kid you, sort of, get up to stuff. Curiosity stuff.” Ralof stammered but Slutcat had moved on to the mage stone.

“Here goes nothing!” she said and touched the stone. Nothing happened.

Ralof commented, “Mage, eh? Well, to each his own. It’s not for me to judge.”

“No, it’s not. Ralof, look at me. Does this look like the body of a Warrior to you? I can’t even lift an axe.”

“Point taken. Though there’s one called the Lover Stone around Markarth if you ever get out that way.”

“Oooo! Does it make you a better lover?”

Ralof shrugged. “Probably.”

“I can imagine what that one has carved on it!”

“It’s just an engraving of a woman. I checked.”

“Oh. What a missed opportunity,” Slutcat said as they returned to the path, though Sworddog noticed there was a lot more touching going on as they walked.

“It looks like the morning is coming and I’m getting awfully sleepy. Let’s find this Riverwood and get to bed.”

Sworddog growled.

“To sleep.” Slutcat amended.

Not the Time Nor the Place

“Well if you are quite done with your metaphorical afterglow, we’d better get going don’t you think?” Sworddog asked Slutcat, sounding a little perturbed.

“Oh, I suppose. Which way did they go?”

“Follow me,” Sworddog said impatiently and trotted off down the path that Ralof and the other Stormcloak had taken. They passed into another chamber with more bodies, but it was the cobwebs that bothered Slutcat.

“Ew… Spiders. I hate spiders,” she said, staring at a particularly large web in one corner.“

"That’s pretty much universal, I guess. Come on, Ralof will have knocked down any that cross the path.”

Soon they had caught up with the others and Slutcat readied her newly discovered talent, this time priming both hands with the Spark spell. Up ahead, they heard the clear sound of more Imperials.

And then the battle was on. Unlike before, Slutcat was a very active participant this time. Sworddog helped her take down one Imperial bowman, but not before she had been wounded by an arrow. She barely felt it, such was the adrenaline flowing as she rained sparks upon the doomed man and Sworddog worried him from behind.

Before she knew it, the Imperials had been defeated and Ralof and the other Stormcloak were heading out of the room. But Slutcat sat where she was for a minute. The healing potion had taken care of the pain in her leg, but she was looking at the dead man in front of her. Sworddog came up and sat near her.

“You know, he didn’t look like a bad man,” she said, not looking away from the lifeless corpse.

Sworddog said nothing for a while. Finally she spoke up. “He probably wasn’t. Just a soldier, doing his job. Just a man really.”

“What have we gotten ourselves into Sworddog?”

The dog didn’t answer, but Slutcat stood back up, took one last look at the body of a man whose bones would likely stay down here forever, then went on to join Ralof.

A bit further they crossed a drawbridge, but the straggling other Stormcloak was on the far side when another dragon-induced cave-in cut them off from him. Once again they were back to just Ralof, Slutcat and Sworddog. Without any choice, they continued on. But soon they found the only way out was down a rivulet running with water. Cold water.

Slutcat slipped on a stone and ended up in the water nearly to her knees.

“AAAAAAAAAA! THAT’S SOOOO COLD!” She screamed.

Sworddog’s voice came from behind her, “At least you’re mostly out of it! Hurry up! I’m up to my shoulders!”

She’d barely gotten any warmth back in her feet when they had to turn off the stream bed and go down a side passage. Then the passage widened into a room full of Slutcat’s deepest fears. Spiders the size of Sworddog and more were dropping from the ceiling. She fled in abject terror back the way they’d come. Once Ralof had dispensed with the spiders, he and Sworddog went back to find her huddled by the stream, her eyes wide and staring. She flinched at Ralof’s touch.

“I’m sorry… I… Don’t like spiders,” she shivered not from the cold as she tried to apologize.

“It’s understandable. Loathsome creatures. Some even spit venom. You are right to be afraid of them. But they’re dead now.”

She looked back at him. “All of them?”

“Yes Slutcat. All of them. Sworddog took down a few himself.”

Sworddog nodded. “Taste like crap. But yes Slutcat. They’re all dead.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right Ralof. I mean… I REALLY REALLY REALLY don’t like spiders! It’s like a phobia or something.”

Ralof took her hand and hauled her to her feet. “They’re dead. Come on. I’ll hold your hand.”

Though nervous, Slutcat did make it through the room with the dead spiders and breathed a sigh of relief when it was safely behind them. However she didn’t get much time for respite when Ralof hushed them and crouched low.

He whispered, “Hold up. There’s a bear just ahead. See her? I’d rather not tangle with her right now. Let’s try to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step. Or if you’re feeling lucky, you can take this bow. Might take her by surprise.”

Slutcat shook her head and pushed the bow away. “I’ve killed enough for today. Let’s just sneak past her.”

Ralof nodded, adding, “Go ahead. I’ll follow your lead and watch your back.”

Slutcat raised her eyebrows. “My back? Listen buddy, I don’t want to tangle with bears at ANY time. As slow and low as I’ll be sneaking, it won’t be my back you’ll be watching. Have a good look, but stay close. If she charges I’m going to be running like hell!”

Slutcat began crawling. At the beginning of this little romp she would have felt a little thrill at displaying her wares to him in such a manner. But after the roller-coaster she’d just been through, she was focused completely on the sleeping bear ahead. This went through her mind for a moment, and she realized that she would have said just what Ralof had said a long time ago. “This is not the time, nor the place for that!”

Who needs men?

Using the key he found on the Captain, Ralof was able to open a gate that led deeper into the keep, so Slutcat and Sworddog followed him. Suddenly a tremor shook the roof and it collapsed in front of them cutting off the main corridor.

“Look out! Damn, that dragon doesn’t give up easy,” Ralof said, surveying the collapsed passageway.

Slutcat saw a door to their left. “This way maybe?”

The three ran through the side door and soon came upon two Imperials in a sort of storeroom whereupon Ralof fell upon them with gusto.

Slutcat stopped and watched the battle in front of her, and was prodded by a cold nose to her butt.

“Go on! Get in there and fight Slutcat!” Sworddog said, nudging her forward.

“Er… I… I sort of see myself more in a support role here,” she stammered.

“Slutcat! Help Ralof!”

Slutcat turned back to Sworddog. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty when I chose to follow him. I mean, the Imperials aren’t all that bad are they? Really, what do we know about them? Maybe we shouldn’t get too involved.”

A scream and a gurgle came from behind her and she turned around to see the Imperials dead and Ralof badly injured.

“But then again, Ralof is our friend, right?” Slutcat said.

“Healing… potion…” Ralof managed to say, indicating a cupboard to the left.

“Healing potion, healing potion. Sworddog, do you know what a healing potion looks like? Oh, here’s some wine! I’ll take that!”

“Try the red one,” Sworddog suggested.

Slutcat shrugged and took the bottle over to Ralof who downed it in one big gulp.

Instantly he was literally as good as new. Slutcat looked back at the bottle, then back at Ralof. “Wow! That stuff really works!”

“Well, of course it does. It’s a healing potion. See if you can find some more.”

Slutcat was about to say, “Why don’t you? You’re not my boss. Why do I have to do the searching here? Is this some sexist or racist thing? Maybe you think we khajiits are just your servants, hmmm?” But then she looked at the two dead men on the floor and decided to hold off on her protests. Maybe, just this once, he’d earned the right to command her – just a little.

“Absolutely!” Slutcat said instead and started searching through the storeroom, pocketing anything she could find that might conceivably be a potion of some sort. Once done with the main storeroom, she climbed a ladder to look through some baskets and barrels up on a raised shelf there.

“Find anything?” Sworddog asked as she rummaged around.

“I sure did! These wicker baskets are AWESOME! These would be just the thing to store shoes and stuff by the door.”

“Slutcat – I think we’re supposed to be looking for potions and the like. Wicker baskets are not high on the list of needful things here.”

“Whoa! This one comes with a wicker lid! I’m taking it! Say, this inventory thing is great. Wish they had these back home.”

“Slutcat, come on. Ralof is waiting.”

The khajiit nabbed another bottle of wine before she and Sworddog again began to follow the big Nord. As they proceeded, the sounds of a battle were heard in front of them. Of course Ralof ran on ahead to join the fray. Slutcat and Sworddog followed and found themselves in a torture chamber where two Stormcloaks were already battling a couple more Imperials.

“Still think the Imperials are okay guys?” Sworddog asked Slutcat as she touched a skeleton manacled to the wall that crumbled at her touch.

“I guess not. But what can I do? I can’t even lift an axe. I’d just get in the way.”

“Well, you can handle this ebony dagger strapped to my back for one thing,” Sworddog pointed out.

One of the Stormcloaks went down and Sworddog shook his head before joining in the fight himself. Slutcat pulled a healing potion out of her inventory. “Maybe I can be a healer,” she thought. But in a moment Ralof, along with the other Stormcloak, had dispatched the two Imperial torturers. Slutcat handed a healing potion to Ralof and the other Stormcloak soldier. Both were healed instantly. She even gave some to Sworddog.

“Thanks, khajiit,” said the stranger. Then he really looked at Slutcat. “Whoa! You’re big… and… naked!”

“Just call me Nurse Slutcat. You know, that Ralof fellow hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me,” she said, switching to seductress mode. She leaped onto the Stormcloak. “If you need a little more healing,” she purred, “I specialize in physical therapy…”

The Stormcloak reflexively caught her as her legs locked around his waist. “Sorry khajiit…” he began.

“Slutcat.”

“Sorry Slutcat. I’m… I’m a married man.”

Slutcat licked his earlobe. “I won’t tell…”

“I’m not into fur!” his protests became more vehement.

“You could be!”

“Slutcat, please!” he said, gently but firmly extricating himself from around her. He sat her down gently but firmly. She sat heartbroken on the floor, her eyes grown big and pleading. “I could shave!”

Ralof interrupted and the other Stormcloak took the opportunity to move away, “Wait a second. Looks like there’s something in this cage. It’s locked. See if you can get it open with some picks.” He gestured to some little metal things nearby. “We might need that gold once we get out. Grab anything useful and let’s go.”

Slutcat’s ears suddenly pricked up. “Gold?” She ran to get the lock-picks.

“Wait,” she said, turning to look at Sworddog. “Why would they keep lock-picks here? I mean… Really?”

“Just roll with it.”

She nodded and scooped them up, heading to the cage. Within, the body of a man in a robe lay cold and dead, but beside it a book and the flash of gold was evident. She sat in front of the cage, lock-pick in hand, then looked forlornly at Sworddog. “Ever used a lock-pick before?”

Sworddog held up a paw.

“Oh. No. I guess not… Well, here goes nothing.”

The first lock-pick snapped off after only a few attempts. “I’m going to have to write a nasty letter to the ACME Lock-pick company. These things are defective.” But the second attempt was successful and she realized, “Hey, I could be a thief!” Then she crawled into the cage. The gold was snatched up in an instant, but she took the book out too. It felt odd in her claws.

“What’s this?” she said, sitting down outside the cage. “It doesn’t feel like a regular book.”

She opened it warily. Suddenly there was a flash and the book disappeared. Even Sworddog jumped back at that.

“A disappearing book? How does that work?” Slutcat said, scratching her head.

“Well according to the mass/energy equation all mass is just stored energy anyway. Although by my calculations a release of all the energy that comprised that book should have caused an explosion that would have incinerated everything within a three mile radius. Dragons excepted of course.”

“Your calculations suck. Again.”

Ralof looked back at the two. “It was a spell book. You should know some magic spell now. Give it a try if you want. Those robes the dead mage is wearing may be helpful too if you want to be a spell caster. But we need to get moving. Come along down the passage when you’re done.”

“Robes?” Slutcat said, looking down at her minimalist clothing. “Where we’re going, we don’t need robes.”

Sworddog groaned.

With that the two Stormcloaks left the torture chamber. But oddly Slutcat felt she knew what Ralof meant now. Something in her mind knew what to do now. She signaled for Sworddog to move back. She then closed her eyes and threw something out of her right hand. She opened her eyes at the crackling sound and saw sparks leaping from her outstretched hand and hitting the floor some distance away, sparking and arcing while the scent of ozone filled the air. Her eyes went wide with wonder.

“Slutcat?” Sworddog said after she’d closed her hand and sat staring on the floor at the spot she’d hit with her spell. “Are you all right?”

“Did. You. See. THAT?”

“Yes. Quite impressive! I guess you’re a mage here.”

Slutcat turned to the dog, her chest heaving as if she’d just run a marathon. “Total Lady Boner.” she stated flatly. “I need a cigarette.”

“Sorry Slutcat, I don’t think those exist in this…” Sworddog started.

“Don’t worry about it,” Slutcat said, lounging on a chair with a lit cigarette in one hand and a glass of fine wine in the other. “It’s totally metaphorical.”

Her breathing relaxed as her eyes closed. “I’m a mage.”

In keep-ing with Ralof (2)

Author’s note: If you’re just starting here, you missed one. Head to the archive at http://slutcatandsworddog.tumblr.com/archive and read the first one. Sorry, no pics on it though.

Slutcat stepped into the keep with Sworddog close behind. The stormcloak, Ralof, was bending over a body but stood when she entered.

“That thing was a dragon. No doubt. Just like the children’s stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times.”

Slutcat cocked her head to the side. “Do you think? What was it that gave it away? Probably that whole breathing fire thing, huh?”

Ralof ignored her and continued, “May as well take Gunjar’s gear… he won’t be needing it anymore. Alright, get that armor on and give that axe a few swings. I’m going to see if I can find some way out of here.”

Slutcat tried to put on the dead Stormcloak’s armor but was failing miserably while Sworddog sat watching her amused. “Maybe you can stick your tail out between the top and bottom?” he offered helpfully.

“Dammit, no that doesn’t work. It’s a one-piece. I’ll try and keep it tucked in,” she mused while Ralof looked around for a way out.

Slutcat finally got the outfit mostly on and looked at Sworddog, “What do you think?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the armor fell off her shoulders and pooled into a big pile at her feet. The dog just shook it’s head. “Too big even with your boobs!”

Slutcat climbed out of the useless armor and knelt to pick up the axe. Though she did manage to get it off the ground, the head steadfastly refused to rise much higher than her ankles.

“Jeeze, this thing weighs a ton!”

“You’ve got no upper body strength Slutcat,” the dog stated as Slutcat turned to her with a mournful look.

“Maybe if I…” she said and started spinning around. The head of the axe did rise above the ground a bit further before she lost her grip and the weapon went clattering across the floor, nearly hitting Sworddog.

“HEY! WATCH IT!”

“SHHH!” Ralof spat, motioning them to the side of the door. “It’s the Imperials! Take cover!”

Slutcat and Sworddog squatted to one side while Ralof drew his own weapon on the other side. The woman who strode in was quite familiar in her Captain’s armor. She turned and saw Slutcat cowering while her companion met Ralof’s surprise assault. “YOU!” she cried, brandishing a mean looking sword.

Quickly, Slutcat finished doing something with Sworddog’s tail, then she rolled out of the way of the Captain’s swing, but the Imperial was a trained swords-woman and was upon her again in a second. The sword flashed again. It connected, unlikely as it may have been, with Slutcat’s vest which stopped the heavy blade as if stopping a toothpick.

The Captain stopped and looked closely at her sword, “What the hell?”

But Slutcat didn’t waste any time wondering what had happened and ran to the most distant point from her foe available, which happened to be just on the other side of the battling Ralof and the other Imperial. The Khajiit peered between the two as the Captain came forward, renewed hatred in her eyes. But Slutcat just maneuvered so the two fighting men stayed between her and the Captain. She could see the Captain was getting angry too. She stuck her tongue out. “NYAAA!”

The Captain’s face began to show red and she ran full speed towards the cat to the left of the others, but Slutcat was nothing if not swift. She moved deftly to put them back between her and the Captain, then turned around and slapped her own ass. “NYAAA NYAAA!”

Fury radiated from the captain like flame. In a rage she crashed full into the two men, sword drawn. Unfortunately for the Imperial soldier, the sword was on his side and sliced his neck cleanly as the Captain barreled through, no heed given to her fellow who was now on the ground and bleeding his last. For his part, Ralof was on the ground himself and gasping to get his breath back after the full speed collision with the armored Captain.

But Slutcat wasn’t watching all this. She was running as fast as she could around the perimeter of the circular room, her eyes now wide with fear. But a table blocked her path and the Captain advanced ruthlessly.

“Sworddog!” cried the Khajiit, now with nothing between her and death. The sword came barreling in, not with a slash that might be avoided but a direct thrust meant to skewer.

It hit Slutcat’s belt buckle and stuck there. Slutcat looked at the Captain in wonder. The Captain looked at Slutcat in disbelief, then back to the sword and pulled it away from the belt and struck again. Once again, it hit the belt buckle. “WHAT THE FUCK?” screamed the enraged Imperial, looking at her sword like it had betrayed her.

Meanwhile Slutcat had dropped to her knees. “Fetch the mouse Sworddog!” she cried incongruously then rolled away from the dog as fast as she could.

Sworddog had walked calmly up behind the Captain before her master’s command had come. Then she began looking for a mouse. She found it very nearby. But when she turned to try and fetch it, it scampered away. But not far. So she turned some more. And it scampered some more. Then she took after it in earnest, while the fake mouse tied to her tail flew ever out of her reach. The dog was spinning now at full speed, snapping at the never-quite-near-enough toy.

And then Slutcat kicked the Captain over. The odds of one of Sworddog’s swords actually managing to wound the fully armored Imperial were slim to none. But in his mad whirling dervish spin the odds were just slightly increased. The Captain fell awkwardly and as she hit the floor, a sword struck her point-first in the face. She had time to let out a gurgle before she was gone.

“NYAAA NYAAA NYAAAA” Slutcat taunted the dead Imperial one last time as Sworddog stopped spinning. Then she turned to the dog. “Here girl!”

Sworddog panted up to her, glancing back every so often at the mouse that refused to be fetched. She was pleased when Slutcat removed its string from her tail and gave it to her directly. The taste of rubber was disappointing, but expected.

Ralof was standing, looking perplexed. “Why in hell are you not dead?”

“Inverse proportionality rule,” Sworddog said between chews on the rubber toy.

“The WHAT?”

“Inverse proportionality rule. Of course you wouldn’t know about that. You’re male. Doesn’t work for me either. (chew chew). Gotta have boobs.”

“What is the inverse proportionality rule?” Ralof asked while looking at the dead Captain.

“The skimpier the armor, the greater the protection. It’s a universal rule in this age of Tamriel from what I can tell,” the dog concluded, then attacked the rubber mouse again.

Slutcat laughed. "And my armor is just about the skimpiest you can get!”

She kicked the steel breastplate of the Captain. “She apparently didn’t know the rule.”

Rajolf shook his head and bent to retrieve anything the Captain had in her inventory that might be of use. Sure enough there was a key. There was always a key.

“You want anything? That armor is valuable.”

Slutcat began to remove the armor from the dead Captain. “Oh my! Going commando in full plate armor? Sworddog, this lady may have been the bravest woman in Skyrim. She was truly a woman after my own heart. In different circumstances, Captain, we would have made great friends. A moment of silence for her…”

“You’re not going to wear her armor?” Ralof asked.

“Nope,” Slutcat said cheerily while getting to her feet. “I’m good! Besides, you wouldn’t want me to cage these puppies would you?” She wiggled her breasts at him for emphasis.

Rajolf shook his head. “This is not the time, nor the place for that! Let’s get out of here before more come! What’s your name anyway?”

“The name is Cat. Slut Cat.”

Slutcat and Sworddog in Skyrim (1)

(Image by the irrepressible FurNut!)

The wagon rumbled along down the rough forested woodlands, one of two in a convoy headed towards the city of Helgen. Inside were five passengers. One, the gagged and trussed figure of Ulfric – the once-powerful Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the Stormcloak rebellion but now a prisoner of the Imperials like the rest. Across from him sat a pitiable figure dressed in rags and similarly bound at the wrists. Lokir – a thief doomed by fate to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Next to him sat the Jarl’s stalwart companion and Stormcloak loyalist Ralof, his massive arms tied uselessly.

And then there was Slutcat. Unlike the others, Slutcat was not tied in quite the same manner. The Imperial general who led the procession, General Tullius, had had her feet bound instead of her hands, declaring that it was more important to keep her legs together than her arms. She was dressed in her standard attire – vest, belt, and boots with nothing in between. Beside her sat her constant and loyal companion, Sworddog, both unbound and armed to the teeth with the bristling weapons that gave her the name. Why she was left to freely associate with the other prisoners with absolutely no regard for the swords that covered her, even the author couldn’t fathom.

“Well here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into,” grumbled the dog.

The Khajiit groaned yet again as the wagon staggered over another pothole, setting her aching breasts to bouncing.

“You know, they make bras for just such an occasion,” the dog pointed out, disregarding the display that seemed to fascinate the other prisoners – not to mention the Imperial driving the cart.

“Hey buddy, watch the road! I swear you’ve hit every bump you could possibly have hit without going completely off the trail!” she said, resuming her hold on her boobs.

The Imperial laughed, “Na. I missed one a couple miles back. Too bad, it would have been a DOOZY!”

Slutcat hissed, then turned back to Ralof. “So what’s his story?” she asked, indicating the gagged Jarl. “Told one too many Imperial jokes?”

“Watch your tongue!” Ralof chided her, “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.”

“A king huh?” Slutcat said, sliding up beside Ulfric. “Say! I’ve never met a king before. Hey, when we get out of this, wanna fool around?”

Ralof kicked her angrily in the shin. “That’s no way to speak to your king!”

“HEY! I’ll scratch your eyes out big boy! Besides,” she said, putting her arms around the supposed future High King, “He likes me!”

Ulfric’s eyes went wide as he shook his head in protest.

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste. Probably gay anyway. How about you, thief? I hear you thieves are supposed to be good with your fingers. Wanna pick my pocket?”

Sworddog coughed. “Ehem. Slutcat, if he was a good thief he sure wouldn’t be here.”

Slutcat sat back down, nodding. “Yeah, I guess that’s true…”

Another jolt set her femininity bouncing again as she scowled back at the driver who started laughing again.

“God DAMMIT man! If you can avoid hitting those damn holes for 5 minutes I’ll give you a better time than your old man gave me!”

“If you were going to live long enough to matter,” the Imperial said while turning back to the road, “I might just do that!”

Slutcat turned to Sworddog. “Live long enough? What did he mean by that?”

The dog shrugged, but Ralof looked at her with contempt.

As the walls of Helgen came into view, Slutcat did notice the bumps had indeed lightened up anyway. Finally the procession slowed to a stop. And then Slutcat witnessed the most amazing thing. The thief Lokir got himself killed trying to run away from the Imperials. But that wasn’t what amazed her. What was truly astounding was that the Stormcloaks, sworn enemies and at virtual war with the Imperials, didn’t even try to do anything. One by one they appeared to be ready to just bend over and have their heads cut off! Incredibly, the first even expressed impatience with the proceedings taking too long. It wasn’t long before his impatience succumbed to the supreme patience of death.

“You with one of the trade caravans, Khajiit? Your kind always seems to find trouble,” said some faceless mook of an Imperial.

“I guess you could say that,” said Slutcat as she hopped up to him, trying her best to be sexy while her feet were tied together. “I have different kinds of wares to sell though…” Her tail arched around to stroke his arm while she purred with her best slutty voice.

“Well, you’re not on the list… I guess…” he stammered.

Then some damned Imperial Captain interrupted, “Forget the list.”

Slutcat turned to hiss at her. “I hope that metal breastplace chafes the hell out of your boobs!”

“She goes to the block!”

“Fuck that!” she said and started hopping away.

“Archers!” the Imperial Captain commanded.

“Fuck that too!” said Slutcat as she dropped to her knees in compliance. She was hauled bodily to the chopping block, her feet not touching the ground.

“Wait… this isn’t what I meant when i said I’d give you head!” she cried as she was forced into position.

Suddenly a dragon appeared, the majestic and lethal form of myth screaming it’s fearsome cry while the Imperials scattered.

“Sworddog! Come!” Slutcat cried, rolling off the gory block.

She took a sword from the dog’s back and cut through her bound feet, but a shadow loomed over her.

“Hey, Khajiit! Get up! Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof cried as he ushered her to a tower nearby. Inside other Stormcloaks along with Ulfric waited.

“Guess that impatient sucker who got his head cut off wishes that prayer was a few minutes longer now, eh?” Slutcat laughed once she was inside.

“Hey! That was my brother!”

“Oh… heh… Sorry,” Slutcat apologized.

Suddenly the tower was rocked by a tremendous force and the thundering Voice of a dragon was heard, just before the walls of the tower were breached and a powerful blast of fire roared into it from the dragon, leaving a smouldering hole some distance above the floor.

“See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We’ll follow you when we can!” Ralof screamed, pushing Slutcat to the smoking hole.

Slutcat looked at him in complete confusion. “Wait, you want to leave this tower? The one that dragon barely even damaged, and go outside? What kind of…”

But she wasn’t able to finish her thought as the muscular idiot hoisted her through the gap and pushed her onto the roof of the flaming building on the other side.

Sworddog leaped after her. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, eh?” she laughed.

“More like out of the PERFECTLY SAFE STONE TOWER and into the fire,” Slutcat glared, running along the second floor and trying to guess where the dragon was. “What a moron!”

A few minutes later and she found herself standing with that Imperial official on one side and Ralof on the other, both asking her to join them on two separate paths.

“Well,” Sworddog said, imperturbable as ever. “Looks like this is decision time, eh Slutcat? Which will it be?”

Slutcat put out the flame on the tip of her tail and looked at the dog. “Oh, let’s see… Shall we follow the big muscular hunk with the pecs of steel, or follow the Imperial pencil-pusher who 15 minutes ago was going to cut my head off. Decisions, decisions…”

Sworddog considered this while the dragon circled overhead. “Then again, your muscular idiot did push you out of a perfectly safe stone tower out into a burning building.”

Slutcat had to nod at that. But then she looked again at the thick muscular legs and tight, rock hard buns of the Nord. “I CHOOSE DEATH BY IDIOT!” she cried and followed Ralof into the keep.

Sworddog sighed and followed her mistress. “Good a reason as any I suppose,” she had to admit.