Life in the Black Citadel was, for the most part, pleasant for the Charr citizenry. Constant construction, military drills, the roar of cannon fire and the smell of smelting metal...Home, as they say, is where the heart is, and at the heart of most Charr one will find an engine of war.

Most Charr, that is, save for those of the Ash Legion. Spies and thieves, assassins and infiltrators; their tactics were more clandestine and measured than the clanking war machines of the Iron Legion or the gore-fueled violence of the Blood Legion.  They valued subterfuge and subtlety over direct, brute force.

Of the Ash Legion, perhaps one of the more unusual members was a young female Charr by the name of Shirrage Longclaw. Born and raised in the Black Citadel, she was hardly what one would call normal for any of the legions. As quick with a blade as she was with her tongue, she could talk her way in and out of any situation, it seemed...At least those she didn't have to carve her way into, first. This was, of course, normal for the Ash Legion.

What was not normal was that she also had an almost giddy, gleeful love of explosions and chaos. She loved to watch enemies fly through the air, structures burn, and the smell of black powder on the wind. She had more than once used a thrown explosive device in place of a subtle arrow to the back or a dagger in the throat, simply because it amused her to do so.

She had been called psychotic before; monstrous. She wasn't evil, though; she still had some moral compunctions, although few and far between. She usually focused her mirthful animosity on members of the traitorous Flame Legion, and their allies by proxy. Human Separatists, Norn Sons of Svanir, Inquest officers of the Asura, the Nightmare Court of the Sylvari; they were all equally guilty of betraying their races, and all of Tyria by proxy, and Shirrage felt they could all suffer the same fate: Death.

Shirrage was also unusual in her taste for adventure. Many Ash Legion agents kept themselves to the straight and narrow, seeking only to complete their goals and move on from one mission to another, but Shirrage...She liked to explore, to see the world and what there was to discover. This included, in many cases, exploring the residents of Tyria as much as the landscape, and not always by will on her part.

This is the story of Shirrage Longclaw, Charr Thief, Agent of the Ash Legion, and a most unusual woman indeed...

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Part 1.: Relaxation.


Shirrage had spent hours crouching outside of an Ascalonian Ghost Hub, watching the movements of the lost souls as they wandered from point A to point B, following the tiresome routine that they had followed in life slavishly after death.

Those hours, she felt, had been wasted. She could have easily solved the Ascalonian problem for the area with her muskets, her sword, or even a few well-placed tripwire mines and some blinding powder; the Ghosts were dead, but easily banished under the right circumstances. But no; she had been instructed to observe and report back to the Ash Legion Checkpoint in the Hero's Canton; nothing more.

As she strode through the jagged metal gateway into the Canton she sighed with relief, always happier to be back home after a particularly boring, drawn out assignment than to be anywhere else. Here, she could unwind; relax, let a bit of steam off. She strode into the tent of her commanding officer, and in short order left a very dry, even bland report for him.

"Very good, Shirrage. You've earned some down time. Get yourself a bottle of something stiff to drink and some rack time." Said the Charr officer, tossing a pouch of jingling coins to Shirrage. She caught it in her right paw, turning it over in her hand and testing the weight. It felt a bit light, compared to what she'd expected, but knew well enough to keep her mouth shut.

A trip by the Hero's Forum and a bottle of wine were in order. The walk across the promenade was a brief one, a brief pause given as a pair of cubs barreled past on all fours, their instructor in hot pursuit. Shirrage smiled briefly, calling after them. "Best keep running, furballs! He'll tan your hide if he catches you!"

Once inside the forum, she sauntered up to Varus, the general good merchant. He was a handsome sort, if a bit short for a Charr; his fur tawny, striped, and his horns long and majestic. She purred playfully, sliding an arm around his neck from behind and giving him a playful squeeze. "Hello there, Var. Got something for Shirrage today? Something strong, and stiff?"

The male rolled his eyes, grunting and opening a pouch on his hip. He was accustomed to Shirrage and her flirtations, particularly when she wanted something. He fished out a metal flask and held it up for her, giving a little shake. "Your usual preference, yes? Blood Whiskey."

Shirrage gave a little "Oooo" and grinned, reaching for the flask before he yanked it away, shaking his head and holding up a paw. "You know the drill, Longclaw...Sixteen copper." Shirrage blinked and glanced down at the purse in her other paw, peeling it open and making something of an annoyed face. She had the money, after her last assignment...But just barely. She still needed to eat, as well.

She seemed to pause for a moment, her upper and lower ears twitching, and then a smirk crossed her muzzle as she tipped ten coins into his paw and leaned in close to whisper quietly in his ear. "Ten for the Whiskey, and if you'd like we can work the difference off at your place, later..."

Varus stiffened slightly, eyes widening briefly at the implication, and then he gave Shirrage a little nod. He knew enough to know when she was teasing, or when she was being serious, and he could tell that she A: wanted the alcohol, and B: was quite serious about making a deal. He cleared his throat and pocketed the coinage before passing it off, earning a lick to the cheek from the Ash Legion Agent before she turned and walked away, her long, luxurious tail swaying.

Shirrage knew she was highly desirable among Charr, and had even found admirers among other races. Her fur was soft and gunmetal gray around the face, underbelly and limbs, while the rest of her coloration was a deep, dusky black, with lovely emerald green eyes, small black horns and braided knots of black hair, ending in decorative weights. She was lithe and slender, small for a Charr female no doubt, but made up for it with her speed, agility and...Flexibility. She'd garnered attention from many a male (and female) of her kind before, and knew how to work her wiles for her own desires.

She'd give Varus a ride later, perhaps let him fill her mouth or her tailhole, and he'd owe her some kindnesses in the future. Her advantage? A pleasing roll in the hay with a male she found attractive, and some coin in her pocket for a bit of bacon and roast duck for dinner. A win-win, if ever she saw one.

She walked briskly back to her private quarters, a tent in the Ash Legion Checkpoint 13, near the Mustering Grounds gate. Her tent was in the back, farthest from the main thoroughfare, a reasonable distance from the Iron and Blood Legion quarters, as well as the Hero's Forum. She liked it that way; it was secluded, shaded, and more importantly quiet (or as quiet as the Black Citadel got). The distant hammering of workers was acceptable compared to the loud, constant clatter of armor on armor, sword on sword, or the clanging of the Iron Legion constructing their war engines day and night.

She pushed through the black cloth covering, into the close darkness of her tent. It was dim within, the dense, weatherproof material of the cloth exterior protected by leather padding, with only an opening at the very top covered in mesh to provide ventilation and light. Even that was reduced by the tent's placement in the shadows of the Iron Citadel's ever expanding walls.

She sighed with relief once she was in her tent, pausing to tie a leather thong around one metal tent pole, securing her "door" shut before she tossed her coins and flask onto the comfortable cot she called her bed. It was a bit nicer than the norm; a proper bedroll stretched out over a cot, with a bundle of Dolyak hides for a pillow and a thick, warm Bear fur stretched out across it. She lived a mostly simple life, but preferred the little creature comforts when she could get them.

She loosened her pauldrons and belt, letting the items slide away from her body with little regard for where they fell. She'd take them up off of the fur lined floor later; hang them where they belonged on a wooden dummy off to one side, beside her chest where she kept most of her more important belongings. Her leather armor was feeling quite restrictive, and an itch had started to grow that Shirrage needed to scratch.

She wore padded leathers; dense and durable, capable of stopping a musket ball, a blade or an arrow while not depriving her of her mobility. The one issue is that they were form fitting, and a chore to get out of. She worked and wriggled until she slithered out of her tunic and jerkin, with her leggings and footwear following in short order. It pooled around her feet as she finally pulled her tail free, stretching and arching her back as she finally had some breathing room.

She placed her hands on her hips, purring with comfort as she looked around her home. It was simple, small and dim, but it was hers. She owned very little; a trunk for goods, a dummy to hang her gear on, her bed, a box of provisions...And a chest tucked under her cot, hidden by a blanket. Her black lips curved in a small smirk as she drew her paws higher, her lengthy claws trailing through her dusky fur and up over her belly. That box was her goal, or would be soon enough.

She let her claw tips play across her nipples, six in all, drawing one at a time upward over her front. She hissed quietly and closed her eyes, hips swaying as she made her way over to her cot and settled down on the edge, her tail twitching slowly. Her thumb and foreclaws drew together around her upper nipples, the black buds hidden beneath soft, pleasing fur, and twisted. Fangs bared, she shivered and smiled, that twinge of mild discomfort only adding to her own pleasure.

Her hands fell away after that, eyes opening as she searched for her flask. Her left hand went for the container, picking it up and running a claw around the cap, loosening it and bringing it to her lips for a draught. Her other paw eased between her own thighs, claw tips brushing through the fur above her womanhood, tracing downward inevitably. Two claws, index and third fingers, delved between her dark, plump vulva, drawing them apart as her middle finger curled inward and down. She traced the sharp tip around the hooded nub of her clitoris, circling the sensitive bud, probing momentarily at it before seeking lower.

She briefly tipped the claw into the smaller opening below her clit, an experimental probe into her urethra earning a quiet groan and a shudder, the flask clutched in her other hand shaking as she toyed with herself. No; not that game...Not right now, at least. Rather, she let that digit creep lower and press between her dark folds, holding herself open as her middle digit pushed past the muscular ring of her vaginal opening. She had to be careful, of course; a Charr woman's claws could be quite dangerous, but she reveled in the thrill of the risk; the feeling of sharp claws at her wet flesh, her finger curling deeper to stroke into the lining of her moist cunt.

She gave a low, feline yowl as she began to work that middle digits into her sex, her palm flattening against her mound, fingers splayed wide to hold her folds apart. She rubbed and massaged the heel of her palm into her swelling bud, stroking the hooded button situated at the top of her sex as she drew another long, stiff drink from her flask. A bit of diddling, a bit of drinking...A good way to get started with her routine of relaxation, no doubt.

Sometimes she felt jealous of Human and Norn women; they had extra fingers and could make use of them more fully than a Charr female. She had scratched herself a few times while masturbating, and it had put her off her game for a while each time. She had to take things slow; gentle. She was just warming up for the real fun, as it was.

She wriggled the finger buried in her womanhood slowly, massaging her inner flesh, stroking and probing, feeling the textured lining of her inner walls with the tip of her claw. She traced along the "roof" of her sex, teasing close to the hidden core of her pleasure as she ground her palm against her sensitive nub, her hips shivering and rising slightly, heels pressing into the fur-carpeted floor of her tent.

Reluctant though she was to stop, Shirrage knew if she got too excited she may cause undue harm; better to stop and move on to her true goal than to risk it. She shifted and eased her finger free, her claw sliding out of her slick opening slowly, left dripping with her own arousal. She purred as she brought her paw to her muzzle, sniffing and taking in her own musky scent, her rough feline tongue unwinding so that she could lap her juices from her palm and claw.

She sucked the digit between her lips, eyes closing as she sampled her own heady taste. She tasted of sweat, leather and feline musk; a mixture of tastes common enough to Charr women. She knew from experience, and found it quite pleasant. Mixed with the whiskey, it was something of a treat. Her "cleaning" done, Shirrage settled back and sighed, smiling dreamily to herself as she glanced down at her bare body.

After some moments of relaxation and contemplation, she huffed and leaned forward, setting the flask of whiskey aside as she reached beneath her cot and pulled out a long, low iron and wood trunk. It clunked softly into the furs before her as she ran her claws over each corner and edge, fingering the latch on the front lovingly before she opened it with almost reverent slowness.

The box contained all of Shirrage's trophies; conquests of the past, both sexual and military, and she liked to admire them while she saw to her needs. In fact, she liked to use some of them while she saw to her needs. 

The contents were varied and strange, but each one had a story behind it; a harpy feather, shimmering and long, tipped in black. A long, thick metallic screw, Asuran in design and made of copper. Some sort of dimly shimmering crystal, as long as her own hand and as big around as a sword handle, the color of ice. A long braid of soft, blonde hair, bound in bronze clasps at either end; Norn hair it seemed. A big leather shot pouch, marked with an odd brand of sorts in the shape of a splay-fingered paw with claws. A wooden box filled with large metallic spheres; high-bore musket balls, used by Engineers in particularly poweful rifles. A length of dried plant matter, whip-like in appearance. A set of broken egg shells; large and speckled. A leather collar covered in short metal studs, with an "S" emblazoned on a metal tag in the front. There were many trophies, all of them unique, all of them with a story.

Shirrage smiled and selected the dimly glowing crystal. It had been part of a Crystal Elemental; a fine fight that she'd struggled to win, challenging in all the right ways. She'd been new to scouting and exploration, still young and fresh as an Agent. 

The Elemental had been under the control of a particularly twisted Asura Elementalist, a little lunatic by the name of Varna Voidstripper. She'd been sent to find the little psychopath, who had been terrorizing the farms of several Charr outliers. Varna, it seemed, had a taste for Charr women, and had been using her Golems to capture them for her own twisted devices.

Shirrage had been sent to find and silence the Elementalist, and as such as disguised herself as a Civilian and volunteered to work at one of the farms. She knew that if the Asura had a taste for female Charr, she'd be desirable enough to capture.

Sure enough, Voidstripper sent a number of Elementals to capture her, including the Crystal Elemental. She'd never seen anything like it before; hulking and powerful, it towered over the others, bigger than a Charr male. It was smooth rather than jagged, and appeared to have been summoned from a great deposit of sapphire. She didn't resist the Elementals; it wasn't worth the fight if she could find Voidstripper.

She was then taken to a cave, where the Asura had been waiting. She was crazed, to be sure, but not unpleasant to look at for an Asura. Shirrage had never thought of an Asura sexually before that point, but as she was brought to an altar of sorts and pushed face down in front of the Elementalist, she couldn't help what the view gave her to work with; the little woman, gray skinned with burning red eyes, covered from head to toe in shimmering Elemental tattoos, was completely naked. She sat in a throne of sorts, with Charr women chained up on either side, bound and gagged. She had one of the Charr women laying on her back, head tilted backwards due to a band of pyrite around her throat, and was forcing the captive to lick her tattooed sex.

Shirrage shivered as she remembered the look on the Asura's face, a mixture of domineering, giggling glee and lust, one hand buried in the Char woman's throat fur, the other fondling a control staff she was using to keep her Elementals in check. She rolled the crystal piece over in her hand, grinning as she brought it to her lips and began to lick the smooth, slightly warm surface.

She slid the crystal piece into her mouth, eyes closing as she continued to reminisce about what followed. The giggling madwoman had Shirrage stripped, her clothing torn away by one elemental, while another stepped up to her front. Shirrage had no time to react before she found a length of smooth, tapered Crystal forced between her lips, sliding down her throat whether she wanted it to or not. She struggled and jerked, squirming to try and break out of the grasp of the deviant simulacrums, only to find her tail forcefully lifted and another, equally sizable shaft of magically charged gemstone forced into her sex.

Shirrage drew the dampened crystal from her mouth, huffing and licking her lips as she chuckled. She'd taken a bit of abuse from those two Elementals; spit roasted and fucked for what felt like an hour before the lusty little Elementalist climbed down and shooed the one at her mouth away, grabbing Shirrage's braids and yanking her head back so she could make eye contact. "You're mine now, Charr-whore." The Asura tittered, eyes sparkling with the sort of gleeful madness that came with abuse of magic and power.

Shirrage couldn't speak; her throat ached and she was hoarse. She was lucky the Elementalist had let the Elemental thrust rather than simply plowing down her throat, otherwise she would've suffocated. Before Shirrage could react the Asura had rocked her hips forward, grinding her sticky folds into the Charr's open mouth, forcing her to begin putting her tongue to use.

Shirrage drew the moist crystal down her front, tracing it over one row of nipples as she leaned back in her bed, her thighs spreading wide apart again as she guided it to her intended target. Soon, the tapered crystalline head of the crystal piece dipped between her swollen, puffy folds and brushed over her clit, her hips gyrating forward as it glided lower and sank into the heated core of her womanhood. 

Memories flooded back as she pushed the makeshift sex toy into herself, twisting and grinding it into her inner flesh, pushing it deep into her cunt. The heel of her paw pushed it in until she could go no further, her paw nestling against her folds for a moment, and then she grasped the base and began to draw it out. 

Outside of her tent, a passing Guard startled at a high, gasping yowl coming from the nearby tent, but he made quick work of leaving the area. He had made the mistake of interrupting Shirrage during her "relaxations" in the past, and wouldn't do that again.

Shirrage's memory of the Elementalist  played through her mind as she began to vigorously work the crystal dildo into her oozing womanhood, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. The Asura's salty-sweet taste, the way she groaned and urged Shirrage on, the never ending piston-fucking of the Elemental buried in her sex. Shirrage drove the crystal in perhaps a bit harder than necessary, grunting and jerking her hips as she nudged her cervix, a twinge of pain mingled with the pleasure.

The Asura had made one mistake above all others, and that was not waiting to bind Shirrage's hands. Shirrage worked the Asura's clit, suckled and nipped, did her best to bring her to orgasm. When Varna squealed and her musky juices spurted into Shirrage's mouth, the young Charr sprung into action. She heaved forward, basically headbutting Varna in the cunt and knocking her onto her back, lashing out to snatch the control rod from her hand.

Shirrage didn't hesitate to smash the device into the ground, shattering it in one fell swoop. All around the cave, the Elementals faltered and fell to pieces, including the one fucking her. It heaved back, but her vaginal muscles convulsed and jerked, holding that piece of thick, warm crystal in her sex as it toppled over. She huffed and groaned, settling back on her knees and reaching between her thighs to fish it out.

The Elementalist was left dazed, whining and clutching her pelvis as Shirrage regained her composure, the Charr looming over her and reaching down to grasp her by the jaw. She leaned in close, nose to nose with Varna, lips brushing those of the quivering, newly powerless Asura. She whispered then, a devious, almost manic smile on her lips as she brought the crystal to eye level. "You're mine now, Asura-slut..."

Shirrage stroked the crystal phallus ever faster into her overheated snatch, working the piece of crystal nearly in time to the strokes in her memory. She'd pinned Varna down, squatted on her face and made her lick her; made her suckle her swollen clit until she'd been satisfied. Varna, though, hadn't had such luck. Shirrage had been sent to kill the little witch, and Shirrage was nothing if not thorough...But there's no reason she couldn't have fun with it.

She growled under her breath, both hands getting into the action as she sawed the smooth length into her womanhood, toes curling and breath hitching. She was getting closer to release, the muscles of her cunt clenching and quivering, hips bucking fiercely upward. She'd used that very piece of Crystal to mercilessly fuck Varna, her screams muffled by Shirrage's own sex. She'd spear the little Asura just as she herself had been impaled, pounding her mercilessly, sinking the crystal shaft into her tight little pussy over and over again until she couldn't take it anymore.

In the end, Varna had fainted long before Shirrage had satisfied her desire for revenge, and in fact Shirrage had decided she could get away with breaking the rules *just* a little bit. She'd released the other Charr women before getting to Varna's true punishment.

The next day, the gate guards at Lion's Arch found Varna, bound and gagged, laying at the foot of the Black Citadel gate. She was hogtied, thighs widespread, with a sizable piece of crystal securely buried in her anus and cunt. She'd been fucked raw, mercilessly used and abused, and from a number of claw and bite marks she looked as if she'd been through the wringer quite properly. A note had been sealed to one small, dark nipple with melted wax: "Deliver her to her people; they'll know how to handle her." Shirrage had, oddly enough, decided to show mercy. Last she'd heard, Varna was still in prison, and was in absolutely no hurry to get back out into the world with the crazy Charr who'd used her and dumped her for the Lionguards.

Shirrage's hips heaved and bucked and finally, as the "fond" memories played out, she seized. Her hips locked in an upward position, her tail lashing as her sex gave a spasm and a gush. Her sticky juices spurted, splattering her bedding, coursing down her thighs as she achieved a fierce, squirting orgasm. The crystal phallus was forced from her sex with that very same muscular contraction, thumping to the bed's surface and glowing ever so dimly, slick and hot with her cloying juices.

She slumped then, huffing, panting, eyes bleary and heart racing. A hand settled between her thighs, clutching at her sticky folds, her clawed fingers brushing along her vulva and briefly circling around her stretched, dripping opening. Her other hand ran over her front, tweaking and fondling her own nipples again as she moaned with post-masturbatory bliss.

She lay there like that for some time; five minutes perhaps, before she slowly sat up with a grunt. She took up the messy crystal dildo and chuckled, bringing it to her lips and merrily sliding it between her fangs, savoring her own rich taste as she sucked and licked it clean once more.

Even as she did that, though, her eyes wandered to her box of trophies. She had hours to kill; days even. And that itch never quite went away. The question was, which memory would the lusty Charr Thief relive next...?