“And thy servant asked, ‘how will I recognize the woman you seek?’ To which I responded that Lord will show the way.”

-Late words from Lord Exultant Vithmiris Irnfried, King of the Dragons. Circa 435 pc.

      Generally speaking, the custom of Vanderblunt demanded the brawl to take place outside, but to shed blood on fertile soul was an abhorrent sin during the breeding season. So no one argued as the crowd cleared space for Junipor and the Aiverix warrior to settle their differences.

      The rules for Vanderblunt were simple. First, and foremost, the only weapons allowed were their fists. Second, once the challenge was made, and accepted, there could be no refusal. Third, the duel ended when one of the challengers was incapacitated. There was an even higher level of customary challenge that could be called, the Vandesdrall, which was to the death. Despite her rashness, Junipor had wits enough to avoid that cruel threat.

      There was one additional caveat to this Vanderblunt; it wasn’t a rule, more like a custom here in Heightsland. To ensure the fighting wouldn’t last, and possibly cause serious damage, the two combatants had to drink four tankards of spiced mead immediately preceding the fight. The mead in question wasn’t spiced with peppers or spices, but rum.

      Junipor shrugged her shoulders, rubbed her wrists, and hopped on her feet to loosen up. Her sister watched her with a sour expression. Francesca sat on Scarlets shoulder while nibbling at a large cricket she recently snatched. Roughly half the taverns parishioners stood by to watch the fight, everyone else kept to themselves. A small collection of locals protested amongst the guards, hoping they would intervene and stop the fighting all together. But even the guards weren’t willing to get in between a duel once Vanderblunt had been called.

      Dunsk, the Aiverix warrior, stripped off his breastplate and chainmail armor to expose a broad chest made up of thick muscle. Junipor knew he was a hulking brute, but now that he was unclad, she gulp in surprise. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead, another strolled in between her shoulder blades. The warrior was covered in scars, some were fairly fresh. He cracked his knuckles as he stared at Junipor and wagged his scruffy tail. “I’m gonna enjoy this, I enjoy a good thrashing before a good rump.”

      Junipor scowled, just thinking of his naked body sweating against hers made her sick. She was still a virgin, like so many other unbound Pharine females, but Junipor had no fear of losing that to this stranger. Studying his stature, Junipor noticed his unruly balance and stiff ankles. Dunsk was a warrior, but he was aged and likely had sustained his share of injuries.

      Two kegs were wheeled onto the center floor, each full of seasonal spirits. The smell exuding from both barrels was enough to make the crowd chuckle and gag. Junipor pulled her tail over her nose to muffle the foul odor. Derrick walked into the circle and handed her a wooden tankard, he shot her a worried glance before walking over to her opponent. Junipor looked at the dark barrel of pungent liquids and imagined how awful it would taste. For a brief moment she regretted her rash decision, but before she could dwell on that Junipor quickly plunged the cup into the barrel. The male in front of her was already guzzling down his own mug in earnest.

      It was hard to describe the taste of the spiced alcohol as it passed through her lips. The smell alone stung at her nostrils, and lit her tastebuds on fire. As the warm liquid hit the back of her throat, Junipor couldn’t believe how thick and sticky it was. It washed over her tonsils with a harsh aftertaste.

      Junipor suffered through the first gulp knowing each swig would taste a little better. By the time she had finished the first of her four drinks, her stomach was full and her mouth felt numb. That wouldn’t stop her, Junipor slammed her drink into the pool of spiced spirits again and proceeded to drink it fast. The watchers in the crowd clapped and cheered for her as Junipor guzzled the rum soaked mead.

      The Aiverix warrior was on his third mug by the time Junipor had started her second. It encouraged her to drink faster, pushing her to her limits.

      “Getting sick already vixen? That doesn’t bode well for you,” Dunsk cajoled her as he finished his third cupful and then plunged his tankard back into the barrel.

      Junipor ignored him as she opened the back of her throat to let the mead slide down her gullet faster. Once finished she coughed violently, spitting on the floor. It took a few seconds for Junipor to collect herself, the crowd behind her tried their best to offer encouragement.

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      She started her final round with a full stomach, and a swiveling in her legs. It was a blessing she could no longer taste the vile drink, but Junipor couldn’t help but notice the alcohol was kicking in. As she finished her final round of drink, she slammed the wooden mug to the floor in triumph. The floorboards swirled underneath her feet, Junipors ears twitched and her tail wouldn’t stop fidgeting. With flustered cheeks she struggled to remain upright while growing more light headed.

      With the mead consumed, the fight could officially begin. The Aiverix stomped his feet on the ground and took up a fighting stance. Junipor had a hard time focusing as she began seeing double, but she took in a deep breath and readied herself. Just as she took her first step toward Dunsk, the ground seemed to slip out from under her feet, causing Junipor to fall face down onto the tavern floor.

…

Minutes Later

…

      “Just get it over with perv,” Junipor sat in the corner of the tavern with her arms clutching her white tail. Her ears were tucked back in shame, and her tail coiled around her thighs. She had emptied the contents of her stomach immediately after being dragged up from the floor. While it really couldn’t be considered a fight, the Vanderblunt had ended with incapacitation. Junipor was still wheezing and dry coughing from the ordeal, even her spit made her stomach sick.

      “Don’t worry kit, I’ll give them apples a nice squeeze.” Dunsk didn’t appear the least bit phased from the mead, other than his words slurring. He sat on his knees in front of her and smiled. He had yet to replace his armor, exposing his barreling chest in front of her as if it were something to gawk at. Junipor rolled her eyes, she wasn’t impressed.

      Just as Dunsk reached out to touch the fabric of Junipor’s tunic, she swatted him aside. “I’ll do it,” her words cut through him like daggers. She hated having to do this, but didn’t feel like she had a choice. With twitchy hands she pulled her tunic down her shoulders to reveal the soft curves of her breasts. Supple cleavage dangled in full view like two swollen tear drops bearing colorful cherries to suckle on. While her breasts weren’t as marvelous as her sisters, they were still firm and full in the warriors hands as he reached out and clutched them. To his credit, Dunsk didn’t squeeze them as hard as she expected. In fact he gripped them in a way that almost felt…comfortable. His rough hands felt her tenderness meekly while bouncing them occasionally to test their buoyancy.

      “You know what…there not bad, not bad at all.” The complement didn’t make her feel any better. Junipor kept her eyes shut as she bit her lip. Anger seethed in her chest.

      “Well that was the shortest Vanderblunt I’ve ever seen,” the female warrior chimed in. She watched Dunsk toying with Junipor’s boobs while drinking her own beverage. “Ok Dunsk, you had your reward now let the poor thing go.”

      “But what about a tussle? A good rump is good for moral.” He didn’t even try to hide his shame. He looked at Junipor as he continued feeling up her chest, then grinned at the other Aiverix warrior seeking approval.

      The female warrior snarled, “Dunsk she’s half your age, and ripe for pups. You breed with her, and you’re bound to suffer a whelp. Is that what you want? To leave behind a bastard who’ll forever know you as the disgusting warrior who won a fight without landing a punch?”

      “Meh, don’t care much about that. Rather like a good squeeze though.” The male hiccuped as he finished his slurred proclamation.

      Junipor swallowed her disgust for as long as she could, but there was only so much she could handle. The moment she felt Dunsk’s fingers strolling to the sensitive nub of her breast, she bared her teeth and shot an uppercut into his jawline. The thrust cracked teeth and threw him back like a rag doll. The noise Dunsk made, as his broken teeth cut into his tongue, was a gurgling wail of distress. It grew into a stomach churning cry of pain as a mouthful of blood added to the disgusting sound.

      As soon as she was freed of his grasp, Junipor pulled the straps of her tunic back over her shoulders. She jumped up swiftly, letting her twins bounce firmly and nestle under the fabric. The warrior collapsed on his back, and Junipor scowled over him with her tail shot up in alarm. “How’s that for a…Vanderblunt,” She belched in between her sentence.

      “You got balls, I’ll give you that.” The female warrior got up from her seat and strode over Dunsk’s unconscious body, the other Aiverix remained at the table drinking happily. “Although it wasn’t an honorable punch, I have to admire a clean hit.” She stood alongside Junipor and slapped her on the back. “What’s your name?”

      Junipor looked at the older female with mild curiosity. She told her who she was while pulling up her leather vest and fastening it.

      “Junipor…a cute name,” The older female planted a hand on her hip, “You can call me Trixy of the Ember Yew clan. The old man behind me is Sly, and you’ve already met Dunsk.” She looked at the grumbling man on the floor, Dunsk had curled up in the fetal position with his tail between his legs.

      Junipor was glad no else saw her naked torso. The tavern locals had avoided the Aiverix, and their corner of the room, to mingle amongst themselves. In fact the only one keeping an eye on her was her sister Scarlet, who sat by the bar with Francesca on her shoulder. Derrick was nearby as well, but he seemed more occupied on his other customers. Junipor could feel the sting of alcohol on the tip of her tongue, and her vision was still hazy. She looked over at the other two warriors and couldn’t help but wonder what brought them here in the first place. “And what exactly are you doing here anyway?” She asked the female Aiverix calling herself Trixy.

      “Glad that you asked Junipor, in fact I’ve been looking for a local who has some guts to offer a job. Any chance you have ever ventured near the Sacred Sands?” Trixy brushed her tail back as she bent over to pluck the red pendant from Dunsk’s belt and handed it back to Junipor. “If so I’ll make it worth your while?”