The music in the ‘Gilgamesh’ pub sounded better than ever. The steel drums and accordion combo that made what we call ‘Alvion Folk Music’ usually gave me a headache. But with the recent news of my postal job being made redundant, and the rest of my foreseeable life as a godforsaken sea-dog starting tomorrow, (along with a body full of very tasty rum,) best believe I was nodding my head and tapping my feet to the crooked rhythm of the Gilgamesh Bards’ performance.
“Another round for you Cass?” Angelica the Barmaid asked me, making sure to lean forward as she spoke, filling most of my blurry view with near-perfect cleavage.
“For the whole Band!” I shouted as I raised my glass and motioned over to the smiling bards in full swing.
Angelica winked and the 6 dozen or so patrons of the Gilgamesh erupted in cheers. It was a small establishment, but in the wake of most of the locals losing their city jobs like I did, it was wall to wall that night.
Gregor Caverack, the friendly half-dwarf carpenter who lived 2 blocks down from me was being forced into manual labor the ship factory after 27 years. He was drunker and dancier than I was.
Merell Corvo, the mother of 2 who stitched leather armor at the hunter’s guild was going to be made a crappy soot sweeper at the munitions yard.
Evan and Nevill Glenn, the twin street performers had to trade in their juggling and card tricks for wood cutting and log transport.
Ryse Vambet, Esther Trill, K’naar Moone, John the Tonne, Nick Sanderbill, Lillith Of Greywood, Micha May, Umber St Paul and about 20 others who I knew, liked and respected were having their livelihoods snatched away in the service of the ‘New Albion Committee Project’. Those mother-fuckers.
Another cheer erupted as the normally quiet, former librarian Lillith of Greywood broke into dance on one of the large tables near the band. She necked a half bottle a bottle of sweet hopps as she pranced and posed, no doubt using the buzz to contain her tears.
‘New Alvion’ was dreamed up by the richest and most vapid of the capital city, determined never to see another sooty face, or greasy hand when they looked out of their high windows on the city below. Thanks to the emerging ‘steam technology’ (that was already beginning to threaten the market for horse and carts,) an initiative was devised for the ‘Skylands’. As insane as it may sound, they actually found a way to build ‘airborne islands’. Huge societies that would be suspended 40 miles high buy powerful engines, fuelled by the cutting edge of steam ingenuity.
Now at first this was just seen as a quirky resort for inbred aristocrats who wiped their arses with silk. But the reality was that the dark magical corruption that was seeping out of Naveroth was causing demonspawn to appear in all of the provinces, and the Skylands quickly became an option of safety as well as luxury.
Now government officials, lords, upper middle class families, and even high end criminals were cashing in their savings to join the New Alvion Skylands. It was being marketed as the city as the future and before long, only the honest hard working folk, worst criminals and the cultish zealots were left in in 'Old Alvion' here on the ground.
But that wasn't enough, even with 80% of our government in the clouds, they need us to provide resources and goods to keep their floating fantasy a reality. So along comes this new initiative that forces citizens at random to give up their lives to be drafted into shitty jobs in the ship building and cargo industry. All in the service of transporting goods to the Skylands. And there is nothing we can do about it.
"Okay King Casper, I think you've had enough sweet rum for 6 nights, let alone this one," Angelica told me in her caring tone. "As much as I want to see you dance to this next song, you have to be up early for orientation at the docks, if the City Guard find you passed out on my floor, they might shut this place down!"
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I was still young enough to where my first instinct was to be defiant and continue partying and clowning all night, but Angelica only spoke sense and her tone was serious enough to punch through my drunken stupor.
"Alright.....fine, thanksh for tha memories Gilgamesh! I will be sailing the seas for the rest of my miserable dayyys!" I slurred to the crowd before stumbling off my seat, being met with a mix of cheers and laughter.
Angelica rushed from behind the bar to scoop me up from the floor, I could almost have fallen asleep in her warm but strong hands right there. She had the comforting aroma of wildflower and mint, no doubt due to the chef's special she would make this time of month. She was only 35 years old, but her voice made her seem older and wiser, though her smile made her always look close to my age when she chose to reveal it to me.
She had a husband and child at home, but I was always convinced we had some sort of chemistry.
As the pub and the world spun around me, the soft thump of footsteps up the stairs created a new rhythm for me to nod my head as I was dragged to the spare room in the Gilgamesh loft. How a 5'6 woman of average build managed to drag my 6'2 190 pound arse from the bar to the bed was beyond me, but I was far too comfortable to complain.
"Did you drag me to the Skylands, Lady Angelica?" I said with an easy smile.
"I'd never do that to you, King Casper. You belong with your subjects here on the earth," she said with a chuckle as she pulled my coat off with significant effort.
She was the sweetest woman in the world, making sure I was sleeping safely and early for the first day of what was sure to be a hellish life on sea. I probably could have removed my own coat and boots, but I wasn't going to to pass up maybe my final opportunity to have Angelica's skin brush against mine as her curves were on full display in front of me. Needless to say I got very hard, very quickly.
After stripping me down to my trousers and undershirt, Angelica shook her head with a soft smile as she saw me pitching a high tent under the fabric. She placed a hand on my high on my chest and began to softly stroke my collarbone with her thumb.
"It's not that I'm not tempted, my King. But I have an arsehole at home who I made a vow to. And I wouldn't be fitting of your Lady Angelica to tarnish her marriage... would it?" she asked in a voice that was almost begging me to give a reason to.
"Don't think of it like that Angelica, It's just something to always remind us of each other," I attempted to say smoothly as I leaned my face closer to hers.
A warm finger softly pressed against my lips, before my head finally sank back into the ridiculously sweet pillow.
"I can't, Casper. I want to, but I can't." she whispered before standing up beside the bed and adjusting the brass lantern device's light to dim.
I slumped back in bed slightly disappointed but completely understanding, pulling the thick covers over my body and putting my erection out of sight.
"Thank you for everything, Angelica. I'll miss you." I said genuinely, trying to hold back a tone that was too sappy.
She stopped for a moment and flashed me that smile. The very young smile that transformed her into a playful schoolyard crush from my 2nd academy. The smile that made me ask her to be mine nearly 3 years ago before I knew she was married. The smile she knew that I loved.
"A parting gift for you, sire."
Her words were like honey and milk being poured slowly all over me. Her hands moved slowly around her chest, before finding her waist and then the loose bow that held her apron up. Slowly but surely she removed it, crouching slightly so I could see more of her perfect behind as she tossed it aside. Her light beige dress was barely able to hold what little of her breasts were being covered by them. So when she let her shoulder straps loose and put her massive, soft mammaries on display my jaw dropped.
I had no idea why she did it, but my mind instantly burned the image into my head on my command. I never wanted to forget what I saw. They hung just low enough without being 'droopy' just very heavy and natural. Her slightly tanned skin created the perfect canvas for her dark pink nipples and small number of darker freckles around the top of her chest which I had been lucky enough to see before. She clutched each on her tits spectacularly and leaned forward sensually, letting my imagination marinate in every sordid act I wanted to perform with them.
My mind was telling me to jump out off the bed and take her strongly and passionately, as this performance could only be a last minute invitation. But apart from my raging hot manhood, the rest of the rum filled body was too content to just lay where it were. Before I could even think of what to say, Angelica had put her dress and apron back on, tucking her amazing chest away.
"Casper, when you are alone at sea, and you miss this town, and the Gilgamesh...I want you to remember what you saw, it will bring you back here. If only for a few minutes." she said solemnly, before blowing me a kiss and turning around to return to the main pub.
"Angelica, I'll never forget you." I whispered. as she made her way down the stairs, knowing that any prolonged goodbye would be even more painful.
When I heard the door close, all I could think about was her, I forced my arm into action so I could furiously thrash out all the lust I had for Angelica under the covers but the sleep caught up to me before the orgasm. Figures.
After I woke up, I was processed at the docks and I was made into a sailor, aboard the 'Bronze Bastion' and I haven't had a happy day on sea since.