Joe was fucking with his favorite Champion Courser when the door to his glorious Sex Palace burst open. A mere Rouncey, a simple working horse, strode into the gilded hall. He wore a flowing heraldic coat, on which was sewn the glorious seal of Free Companies of Calradia.
"Sire," he said, his eyes nervous and cast down, away from the glorious debaucher before him. "Sire, I have news of an alliance between neighboring factions.
"I am with my mistress!" Joe cried, still thrusting. Sweat from the bestial duo dripped audibly onto the gold-tiled floor. "Can't you see that I'm busy? Fuck off!"
"Y-yes my lord. I'll just tell them you're b-busy I guess."
"Tell them the usual," Joe grunted. "It's signed, etc."
The doors burst open again. In strode a red haired woman, beautiful but stern of face. She wore the finest of Plus Three Cavalry Robes. She looked from the Rouncey to Joe, then grimaced, pushing past the anxious messenger. "Joe, Jesus Christ, stop."
"What do you mean by this, Kesh? Bursting into my hall--"
"Oh my God, just stop. You delusional fuck. Just get out of the 'Sex Palace' and get to work. We need you to go south to boot CHAOS nerds to EU."
"Oh... Ok." He looked down at the panting Champion Courser. "Leave me, my mistress!"
"Please stop talking to the horses Joe. You can fuck them, but please don't talk to them. It's unnerving."
Joe begrudgingly unsheathed his dick from the Champion Courser and collected his pants from the dusty stool on which he'd placed them. Clothes in arm, he stumbled through hay and horse-shit, his bare feet slapping audibly against the dirt floor of the stables at Mechin. He strode out beside Kesh, visibly upset, his imaginary play time over.
Am I doing the roleplay right?
