Stendarr's Vigil, Part I

This is an original character story based on the PC game The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. All rights reserved to their respective owners.

Epilogue

The continent of Tamriel is a land full of magic and mystery, a land full of stories. One such story is that of the Dovakhiin - the Dragonborn. It has become a very popular tale in Skyrim. The story begins, however, not in Skyrim, but in Cyrodiil.

You would probably expect this story to center around a tall, dashing and brave man who brought down mighty dragons using only the power of his voice - and you would be right - as anyone would have expected that. It actually begins with a woman of short stature, but with a heart bigger and stronger than giants.

And this person lived an adventure that few could even conceive, much less live through. Now, since her adventures have become legend, a lot of different versions of the story have surfaced, even several where the Dragonborn was actually a stocky, muscular man! I have intimate knowledge of the events of which I write. If the reader will allow, I would like to tell the events as I recall them.

Chapter 1 – The Early Years

Her name was Iona. She was born in and grew up in Cyrodiil. Her father was a merchant and a sailor and her mother took care of the house. When she came of age, she sought out the use of weapons and hand-to-hand training. Now, why would a girl like her be interested in something like that? Well, besides being quite tomboyish, she aspired to be a knight someday - just like the heroes and valiants of old, whose names are recorded in books and folk legends. The Vigilants of Stendarr would later provide her with that chance. Her parents, as one would imagine, were less than thrilled about her dreams. "A woman's place is in making a home for her family," her mother would always say. Despite her constant prodding, Iona put down the dolls and the ponies and more and more she used to fashion wooden swords and used metal pot lids for shields - using them to slay mighty dragons with the power of the gods. It may have been that they thought it was just a phase and that she  would grow out of it.

She pondered about it a lot, but she had believed that her father, while seemingly calm on the outside, was bothered - perhaps, even ashamed - by his own daughter's behavior. Maybe he wanted his little girl to be a bit more lady-like. But she rebelled and applied to the Vigilants of Stendarr, much to her parent's shock and dismay, and met with a recruiter.

At this point, any good parent would be worried for their child, and these two were no different. Iona was worried that her parents were going to disown her right there and then. Her father sat her down at the dinner table one night while her mother was already there sobbing. He told her that she had brought great shame upon her family, and that women were not fit to be warriors.

He pierced her with his amber eyes and intoned in a deep voice, "So, even growing up richer than most isn't good enough for you?" She sat there quietly. It wasn't even about that. It's just that she wasn't content with being a homemaker like her mother, loved as she was. She wanted more, and she wanted to be an adventurer. She wanted songs about her to be sung by bards in taverns far and wide.

"Father," she protested, "Isn't this my own life? Am I just supposed to have my path chosen for me -" "Enough!" her father bellowed, startling Iona, her mother, and the cats. "We are done talking about this! I will not have my daughter go about exploring dark troll caves and being eaten alive by giants, or-or...or who knows what else!" His voice softened, and he stood and turned to face the bookshelf. "Your mother and I love you very much," he began after a few moments of silence, "we have worked hard to provide you with the very best." He reached out with a finger and traced the outline of some of the books. "Perhaps it was that you were...inspired, by some of these stories that I read to you at bedtime. But, never in my wildest dreams did I think that you, a girl, would want to be like a man. I never thought that these stories would put in your head that you could be a man! That you could be a warrior..."

That filled Iona with rage. "You know, there are women warriors and explorers out there, Father! Maybe things are changing and it isn't like it was when you were growing up." "Aye," he said, turning around to face them, "some of them are known as shield-maidens. It all seems so, uh, barbaric to me." “So,” she countered, "It's not barbaric if a man goes down that path?" They must have argued for a couple of hours.

Finally, her father relented. "You know, I have said my peace," he said, "but you have not heeded my warnings. Leave, if you want, but don't come back. We will not support a woman who knows not her place and goes against the natural order." Iona gasped. "You're disowning me??!" she asked incredulously. Her father shook his head. "No,” he said sullenly, almost apologetically, “you are our daughter still. But, don't dare darken our doorstep while wearing the filthy rags of a barbarian. I would much rather see my daughter wear the stinking rags of a peasant."

Iona had tears in her eyes. She was being threatened to being cut-off from her family. She had to choose between the life she had, and the life that she wanted.

Chapter 2 – Into the Pale

The Vigilants of Stendarr are a group of dedicated militant monks in the service of Stendarr, the Divine of Mercy, and its continuing mission is to hunt and crush the daedra, draugr, and all sorts of evil throughout Tamriel. They are known for being very pious, and their methods may be, to some, a bit...unorthodox..? Some have described them as even being self-righteous. Nevertheless, they answer the call and march on to a world free of demonic and necromantic influence.

It was exciting for Iona to receive her first assignment out of basic training: Skyrim, the bordering province to the North. She was given orders to the Hall of the Vigilants near Dawnstar. The tiny compound in the middle of nowhere is not exactly the place someone would normally be excited to get orders to. But to a Vigilant, duty trumps comfort and luxury. And that duty led this new naive recruit into the Pale on her first assignment.

“Well, Iona, this is it, old girl,” she thought, as she put away the last of her clothes neatly into the furniture provided in her new room, “The beginning of a new chapter." A voice from behind her startled her. “Are you planning to spend all day in your room?" Keeper Carcette asked as she stood in the doorway. Iona turned around to face her and reflexively stood at attention.

"Yes, I-I mean, uh, no, Keeper, ma'am," she stuttered apologetically, "I was just...uh-" "Lost in thought, I see," Carcette completed her sentence for her. She appeared to Iona to be very keen and always on alert, but with both of them standing at about the same height (and she being kind of a short girl), she didn’t appear all that imposing.

"You're new here, so I'll cut you some slack - for now," Keeper said sternly, "Hurry up and come see me when you are ready. I have something for you." Iona had the feeling right off the bat that she didn't really care for her too much.

She joined her at the table, which she was leaning over, reading reports from Vigilant agents all over Skyrim. Iona briefly skimmed through the documents, some of them about thieves and bandits, some of daedric activity, an interesting report about a resurgence in vampire attacks, and... dra...dragons? Carcette eyed her sharply after realizing she had been standing there, making Iona stiffen a little.

Had she read that last headline right? Dragons? They were a myth, children's tales. “I don’t know how much you think you know of the real world, recruit,” she said, covering up her reports, “but, it's not pretty out there, and I have a feeling you're going to find out real soon how ugly, cruel, and unforgiving it can be.”

Chapter 3 - Learning the Paces

The Keeper gave Iona her first assignment: cleaning the outhouses. “You've got to start somewhere,” she told her nonchalantly, “If you feel that this isn't for you...or you miss your comfortable life with your rich mommy and daddy, the door is that way. Feel free to walk out.”

“Oh, gods, the smell!” Iona said as she stuck her head out of the door of the outhouse, gasping for fresh air. “Whoever took a dump in here should seriously reconsider what they eat. You would think they would have made some vent holes or something,” she mumbled. “Oh, well. ‘You've got to start somewhere,’” impersonating the Keeper, whom she grew to dislike. She seemed to always have a chip on her shoulder. She probably wasn’t the only one who thought this, as a few others had muttered some choice things about her under their breath. As she was cleaning, she started to entertain possibilities. This place could really be a huge stepping stone for her.

“Patrol duty..?” whined Iona’s fellow recruit, Bergljot, or Bergs, for short, who stood next to her as the assignments were given out. Iona’s eyes almost rolled to the back of her head. This was going to be a preeeetty boring week of patrolling the perimeter of the compound. They would be lucky if they got to see a fox all week.

Indeed, the week did start off dull, with the hours spent between Iona and Bergs walking...and walking...and walking. “Are we done yet?” Bergy yawned. Her companion looked equally tired and bored. “All of this “patrolling,” and for what?” Iona asked as if Bergs had an answer for her. “I’m not sure,” she replied, “My guess is it’s to get us out of the den so we wouldn’t eat all of the damn food.” Both girls laughed. Well, that could be true. “Sure is cold,” Iona mused, “I think every cold day in Cyrodiil started here.” “I think there's some truth in that,” Bergs replied, hastily adding, “Come on, let's get out of this cold quick, I can't wait to sip on something hot.”

They both made their way back. Almost immediately after giving report on their findings, which one could guess was relatively short, Bergljot was called to speak to the Keeper. Iona was left wondering what happened and what did she do. When she next saw her, she asked why the Keeper wanted to see her. Bergy simply replied. “I guess I messed up doing one of my duties. It's ok, now.” She didn't go further than that and Iona couldn't help but think she was acting a little strangely. She didn't want to broach it, and both remained uncomfortably silent until the meal ended. Each then went to their quarters for the night. She couldn’t wait to wrap this dull week up.

Chapter 4 - Iona, Interrupted

“Oh, shoot!” Iona ran to catch up with Bergljot. She had woken up late, put on her patrol gear, equipped her maces, and headed out. They were supposed to be patrolling past the Dimhollow Crypt cave. She always hated going past it, it spooked her. Some say it was haunted. But, she didn’t want to end up getting in trouble – especially with the Keeper – so she dared to go into the wilderness alone. Unbeknownst to her, as she ran up the hill, Bergs’ eyes were watching her from behind a tree. When Iona had cleared the area, she ran back to the Order.

Iona knew the path to take. She approached the place she dreaded the most and then, holding her breath, went around it, and continued to meeting up with her companion. The winding path would take her past the local standing stone. It was probably where Bergs was waiting, hopefully.

As she was running, she heard some rustling in the bushes. Iona froze, and instinctively took out her mace and braced herself for danger. Out of a frozen bush popped out a gray snow fox. Iona breathed a sigh of relief and laughed to herself. “Well,” she thought, “I did say we would be lucky to see a fox this week. Maybe it's my lucky day.” She put her weapon away. This thing was no threat to her. She wished she had some jerky to give to this fox. It looked at her curiously for a moment, then ran up the hill. Iona gave chase. It had been a while since she had had any fun.

The fox wasn't all that fast, Iona could keep pace with it. The fox ran into another bush, and Iona leaned against a rock wall, panting from running. After she had regained her breath, she reoriented herself and proceeded to head to the Lord Stone.

As she followed the path up an incline, she was greeted by another hairy creature, one not as cute or friendly as the fox from before. This one had a much larger body covered in dark fur, and had large terrible fangs and claws. The wolf turned and noticed Iona. She froze in terror as the wolf closed in on her, his eyes hungry for the next meal. Iona once again whipped out her mace, just in time to parry the wolf's bite. It bit down hard on the mace she was carrying in her off-hand. While it was busy with that, the wolf didn't see the mace that came down from Iona's right hand. The head of the mace connected with the head of the wolf, who yelped and stumbled a bit.

The wolf tried again to lunge at Iona, but she blocked the attack and kicked the wolf in the side and performed a power attack, bringing her full weight onto the back of the wolf's head. The wolf staggered, but Iona wasn't done. She swung her mace until the wolf finally succumbed to her attacks. The wolf hit the snowy ground and twitched, but never got up again.

Iona breathed heavily and stood there trembling, holding her maces out in front of her, waiting for the wolf to get up. After a few moments of angst, she crept over to where the wolf was, carefully released one of the maces, took out her skinning knife and plunged it into the wolf's neck. The wolf didn't even flinch. It was dead.

She put her weapons away, confident that the danger was over for now. “Ok, that's enough excitement for today,” she said to herself, “I better get going and meet up with Bergs.” She continued up the path and was about to turn the path when something caught her attention. As the Lord Stone came into view, she noticed some figures were lingering about it. “Bandits!” she exclaimed. There were stone steps leading up on one side of a platform with the standing stone at the other side. There was a fire crackling in the middle of the platform, with sleeping bags and gear thrown around it. She wanted to report these brutes and have them arrested. Looks like they had made a little home there. Maybe she would help give them a little housewarming present.

She thought about what her next move was. She had thought that she would be strong enough to take out a few brutish thugs. After all, she had taken down a hungry wolf by herself. The thought of glory was enticing. Her showing the Order that she can wrangle in some lowlifes should score points with the higher ups, including Keeper Carcette. Um, probably unlikely, but still, the thought did serve to inflate her ego a bit. She had the element of surprise, as the bandits didn't seem to yet know she was there.

She also thought about Bergs. Where the hell was she? She could really use her right now. But, with or without her companion, she was on-duty, and those thugs were encroaching on Vigilant territory, and needed to be driven out. She slipped into the trees on her right side, to avoid being seen. Unfortunately for her, she should have also focused on not being heard. She accidentally stepped onto a branch and snapped it loudly. “Shit!” she cursed inside her head.

“Did you hear something?” the bandit sitting on the edge of the platform said. There were three of them. One, the bandit in heavy iron armor who was sitting on the edge, was the lookout, and two in the back, who appeared to be taking a nap. “Yeah, I did,” came a voice from behind her. The other bandit came up beside her, clutching her bow menacingly. Iona was petrified. This was going much worse than she had thought. These guys had weapons and outnumbered her 3-to-1. Even with another person, this would be difficult. Iona considered her options. She could slowly work her way out of the trees and run like hell back to the Order and come back with back-up. But then, she would need to be quick AND silent, which didn't look like it was going to happen.

“Well,” the bandit archer said, “Maybe someone wants to play?” She then shot an arrow into the trees. It whizzed by her face on her right-hand side and stuck to a tree behind her. That made her jump. She was panicking now. “Maybe I'll just shoot my arrows whenever I hear something, huh?” the bandit said playfully, nocking another arrow, “Maybe I'll get lucky and hit something.”

Iona hid behind a tree. She was breathing heavily. By the Eight, she had never been in this much danger before. Another arrow hit, this time, it was the tree that she was leaning against. She dared to turn around and see where the arrow had struck. It was sticking out on the other side, just parallel to her head. If the tree had not stopped the arrow, her head would have. It was at this point that Iona determined staying there was suicide. She took a deep breath, readied her weapons, said a prayer, and slowly walked out from behind the trees, maces drawn.

Chapter 5 - The Fight of Her Life

“Well, well,” said the bandit in iron armor, rising to her feet, “looks like we got ourselves a hero. She's from that there do-gooding, daedra-hunting cult down the mountain.” Iona eyed each cautiously, unsure of what to do. She couldn't flee, they had two bowmen, and she would surely be pierced with a volley of arrows before she got but a few yards away. No, looked like the only way out was to confront them. The warrior sneered at her. “You wanna play, rookie?” she said daringly, raising her shield and strafing to the right to cut off her route of escape.

Iona's mind was going a hundred miles a minute. How was she going to take these guys? One would have been fine, but she was clearly outnumbered. While she was busy with one, the other two would be free to shoot arrows into her sides or slice into her back. Not to mention, she had basic gear that offered little, if any protection. It was designed to keep the wearer warm, provide basic casting buffs and look uniform when standing in formation. She didn't know how it would hold up to real-world combat.

The bandits were getting restless. One of them, the male in the group, a Redguard, said, “Hey, let's just gut this sow and hang her in front of their base - send ‘em a message that we're not afraid of none of them freaks.”

“I think you're right, pal,” the armored one said, “Time to die, then!” They all moved in to surround her. She had nowhere to go. She knew the layout of this part of the terrain from studying maps. The only routes of escape for her to retreat to was the way she came, which was being blocked by one of the bandits, and behind her, which was a dead end with a steep cliff drop-off. She had no choice but to fight.

She carefully ascended the steps and entered the platform, like a gladiator entering an arena to fight for her life. Weapons always at the ready, she made quick glances around her, trying to decide which bandit to attack first.

All of them had their game faces on now. The bandits drew their weapons and nocked their arrows. They were eager, as if they were waiting for some invisible referee to give them the green. But this was no game. Iona knew if she did not win this match, she was dead.

“Enough of this!” the heavily armored bandit declared. “Game on!” she cried, as she swung her axe at Iona, who narrowly dodged the attack. Iona, seeing an opening, countered her opponent's attack. She swung her mace as hard as she could, but the mace just bounced off the bandit's shield. Damn. Just then, an arrow whizzed overhead, just missing Iona. She ducked out of instinct.

“You suck!” the armored bandit said, “How can you miss from that close-up?” “Who said I missed, bitch?” the Redguard retorted, “I like a little game in my prey - like to play with them a little…”

Iona couldn't take being out in the open any longer. She thought, “What if I take them out one by one? It’s a long shot, but what other choice do I have?” She got behind one of the pillars. At least like this, she would be shielded from the arrows. Without armor, a well-placed shot would kill or cripple her. She needed to take at least one of them out quickly.

She hid behind the pillar hoping to lure one of the bandits in. The bandit with the shield approached first. This time, Iona power slammed her mace, and it hit her shield hard, causing the bandit to stagger. “Oh, damn, girl!” she heard the bandit say as she stumbled back. She turned around and the Redguard caught her by surprise. He had the tip of his arrow pointed straight at her at point blank range. At this distance, it would be impossible for him to miss, even if she had time to dodge. She flipped her mace upwards in an arch. It hit his bow in such a way that the arrow released and landed harmlessly about 25 feet behind her and made him release his grip from the bow, tossing it up in the air. “Ha ha, you bitch,” the Redguard archer said, amused, adding “Nicely played.” He sounded like he was having fun.

Iona ran out into the open. She knew she had seconds before the bandits recovered and that didn't include the other archer, who wasn't disabled. She hid behind the adjacent pillar, and tried desperately to bring at least one down. They were toying with her. She was like a mouse caught in a trap...and being surrounded by cats. It would only be a matter of time before they caught her.

“Why don’t you just come out here?” one of them called out, “If you get on your knees and beg for mercy, maybe we might let you live.” The bandits all laughed at her predicament. “You have 3 seconds to lay down your weapons and start begging for mercy,” said the armored bandit, “or we're going to do worse to you then just take your stuff.” Iona eyed the Lord Stone, just a few paces away.

Iona had heard stories of these standing stones, and knew of the Lord Stone. If she can just manage to touch the stone and call upon its power, she can magically augment her armor, making it stronger. It would at least be better than what she had now. But she needed to do it now. She burst from cover and sprinted toward the stone. Touching it, she quickly prayed, “Oh, Divines, bless me with the power of this stone so that I may defeat my foes and escape.” Light emanated from the pillar. It had worked. Iona could feel an aura surrounding her.

Not a moment too soon, as the bandit’s axe sliced her right upper arm. Iona yelled in pain. The cut was relatively shallow, thanks to the aura that the Lord Stone placed around her. Had she not been protected, she could have lost the use of that arm. Iona slammed her mace against the warrior’s helmet, causing her to stagger momentarily. She was holding her head in pain. She then rushed towards one of the archers. The archer panicked and did not have enough time to react as Iona’s maces both made contact with her on the arm and the leg. The archer cursed, “That hurt, you hag!” Just then, Iona felt a sharp pain as she felt an arrow penetrate the side of her left arm. She looked in shock and saw that it was the Redguard, bow in hand. She screamed in pain and fell to the ground on her knees, holding the injured extremity.

The other archer came over and kicked dirt in her face. “You know, I was going to take it easy on you,” she said, “we were just going to have a little fun with you...but after what you did…” The archer pounced on top of Iona and slammed her to the ground, causing her to grunt in pain. The archer continued, “You and I are REALLY going to have some fun…” Iona’s eyes widened and she struggled against her attacker. At least she was the lighter female and not the Redguard or the one in heavy armor. “Kick her ass! Smash her face in!” the other bandits were cheering her on. “Get up, Iona!” she said to herself, and putting her body into a position where she had better leverage, knocked the bandit off of her, sending her flying a few feet and making her land with a crash.

Iona struggled to her feet, and, with gritted teeth, pulled the arrow from her arm, screaming and panting from the exertion. She weakly drew her mace up in a defensive stance. All three bandits surrounded her, and they all looked pissed. “This is it,” Iona thought, “I’m going to die.” She was outnumbered, injured, was out in the open, and had no room for escape, as the platform the Lord Stone was on had no stairs on the other side. If she jumped, it would likely result in a sprain or other injury, especially in her condition. Not only that, but the bandits would be on top of her before she even had the chance to recover. She eyed all of them weakly. “You want me, come get me, you bastards.” She raised her mace up to her face. If she was going to die, she was going out swinging. The bandit in heavy armor had her shield raised, while the archers had their bows raised and drawn back. The shieldbearer said, “You don’t stand a chance! Drop your weapons or we will kill you and feed your worthless body to the vultures.”

Iona didn’t know what to do. She knew the risks of being a warrior, but she was too young to die. She hadn’t even had her first kiss yet. If she fought any further, she would die for sure. It would be an honorable death on her feet, but the grave would await her nonetheless. On the other hand, if she surrendered, there may be a chance she will see another day. But what if they still killed her and, even worse, tortured her before doing so? Iona froze. Breathing a heavy sigh, she dropped her maces on the ground.

Chapter 6 - Humiliation

The bandits picked up her maces and threw them behind them. She was now completely at their mercy. The Redguard said, “You fashion yourself some kind of hero? Did you honestly think that you could tell us to go away and we would all run screaming from you?” The other two laughed. It really was preposterous. Oh, if only Iona was with someone else, she may have stood a chance. The bandit carrying a shield said, “You’ve hurt me and my friends. So, what do you plan to do to make me forgive you?”

Iona was on the verge of tears. Trembling, she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. If you let me go, I promise not to tell anyone about this and I won’t bother you again.” She hoped that would be enough. “No,” the bandit said, nonchalantly, “you think I’m just going to let you go that easily?” Iona was desperate now. She knew they were going to rob her anyway, so to avoid being hurt by these thugs, she detached her coin purse and threw it at her. "Is this what you want?" Iona asked meekly. The thief opened the purse and found 43 gold septims in it. Iona had been saving up that money. The bandit smiled as she counted her gold. "That's a start,” she said, and Iona thought they were going to let her go, until she added, “but I want more. Now remove your clothes."

"What?!...” Iona stood there for a moment, frozen. She was shocked. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. She glanced around at each of the bandits for mercy, one of whom, the Redguard, was staring at her with hungry eyes. He was rubbing his crotch with one hand, and the other hand he had resting on the hilt of his weapon. Iona gulped hard and, finding no way out of this, said reluctantly, “all right…" She began to strip off her gear, hoping someone from the Vigil was going to come to her rescue. She took off her hood, her satchel, her armored bracers and gloves, her boots, her belt, and her leather chestpiece. She dropped all of it on the ground in front of the bandit. She hoped that that would be that and she would have to make the long walk home barefoot in her tunic. Unfortunately for her, things were going to get much worse.

Her heart sank when the bandit motioned for her to take off everything else. “But-but,” Iona protested, tears in her eyes, “I can’t! I’ll be naked! Please don't make me do it!!” “I said remove your CLOTHES,” the bandit said, “not just your gear. Now, are you going to strip naked for us, or are we going to have to do it for you?” Images of her having to go back to the Order in her birthday suit filled her mind. How everyone would laugh, and taunt her mercilessly, especially at how Iona had such tiny, little titties. She always padded her chest, but then, everyone would know she was flat-chested. Seeing as how the Keeper herself didn't care for her all that much, she would likely be brought in front of everyone, still naked, of course, and be humiliated further, before being kicked out of there for being a disgrace. She would never live it down, and be the laughing stock of the Order for a long time to come. She wanted to be famous and at that point, people will hear about how a naked little girl got her clothes stolen by bandits and had to walk all the way home in the nude.

Humiliating. That is how our Iona felt as she took off her clothes. Her ears felt like they were on fire. Trembling, she removed her enchanted tunic and threw that on the ground. “That alteration robe is going to fetch us some pretty good coin, I wager,” the bandit said, “Keep going.” Iona was now standing in a thin, loose-fitting bra that covered her bare breasts, trousers, and panties. She clumsily hooked her thumbs on the waist of her pants and slowly pushed them down to the ground, stepped out of them, and threw them with the tunic. The wind picked up and Iona swore a stiff breeze was going to blow her remaining clothing away and would leave her there in the buff. She covered her breasts and crotch as best she could. Only thin fabric guarded her modesty now. She looked at the bandit for mercy, but received only a menacing gesture as she clutched her axe. Iona knew what she had to do. She never thought that she would have to do what she had to do at that moment.

Gulping loudly, she bit her lower lip, and then slid off her bra, and covered her chest with her arm. She wanted to turn around so they couldn’t see anything, but they had her surrounded. Then, while holding her left arm across her chest to hide her nipples, she took her right hand and then began to slide her underwear down around the back, until her bare ass was hanging out. There were some cat calls, and the bandit raised her hand to quiet the others. This was going to be the most humiliating moment of her life. Iona took a deep breath, held it, swallowed her pride, and pushed her panties down toward her ankles, and quickly covered her pussy with her right hand. She stood there naked, guarding the most private areas of her body desperately with her hands, her face as red as a tomato. She never felt more ashamed in all her young life.

"You can tell she's not a Nord,” commented one of the bandits, “Look at the way she's shaking like a leaf in this light snowfall." She'd give anything to be in front of a nice, cozy campfire right about now - and also not naked and completely exposed in front of a group of rough bandits. In fact, the only things that were warm on her body were her burning ears and cheeks. The armored bandit said, “Ah, that’s enough covering up. Hands at your sides so we can see what you’re hiding.”

A sob escaped Iona as now the bandits demanded she show her most private parts to them. With deep shame, but knowing she could do nothing else, she lowered her hands to her sides. It was mortifying. For the first time since she was a child, she had to undress completely naked in front of others. At least when she was a child, she undressed in front of her mother behind locked doors. At the Order, all females shared showers, but no one was forced to reveal their bodies to anyone else.

Iona thought things couldn’t get any worse, when one of the bandits said mockingly, “Look at her tiny tits!” which brought a chorus of laughter. The others said, “How old do you think she is? 12?” They may have been right. Between her short stature, small endowment, and sparse, blond pubic hair, she may have looked like a girl barely entering puberty. Iona closed her eyes tightly, gritted her teeth and curled her fingers and toes in supreme embarrassment. She always knew she had small breasts, but she never needed to be ashamed over them. Never, until now. She began sobbing uncontrollably from the shame.

"Good, “continued the bandit, after a laughing fit, “now, despite you having some tiny, little girl tits, you got a pretty nice body, so now we’re going to fuck you. It's going to be the gentle or the hard way - your choice." Iona’s face took on a look of shock and horror, which turned into one of disgust, and then into one of rage. Indignant, Iona exploded in anger and yelled, "Go fuck yourself you dirty pervert!" She couldn't believe the words that were actually coming out of her mouth. She was pure, untouched. These bandits were never going to have her, virgin or otherwise.

The bandit laughed at her, pointing and said, "No...you don't get it...You are the one who's going to be fucked!" The bandit approached Iona, who backed up in fear. “You are in no position to tell us shit, you cunt!” she spat, “Stay still now!” She then backhanded Iona in the face with her iron glove, causing her to have a black eye. Iona instinctively covered her face. She hoped that no bones were broken. The bandit looked at her and declared, “I’m going to show you what happens to little girls like you around here.” "We got ourselves a nice piece of ass," the other bandit announced triumphantly. She went to grab her wrists. Iona twisted her arms away, shouting, "Get away from me, you smelly heathen!" The Redguard then lunged at her and pinned her to the ground. She knew that if she did not act now, she would be pierced with his sword - probably multiple swords. "You don't give up, do ya?" he said to her, adding in a whisper, “Keep it up, I like it when they fight back. Makes my dick hard.” She felt his hard dick through his armor on her leg. She recoiled in disgust. She may have been able to push the girl bandit off, but he was much bigger and had more muscle, as well as more weight. She had used up too much of her stamina already, and she couldn’t get him off, no matter how much she struggled. The bandit then said, “Get some rope. Let’s tie this bitch up. Maybe when we’re done with her, we’ll roast her over the fire like the pig that she is.”