Corruption of Champions Fan Fiction (wip)

Hi. I've been wanting to write some Corruption of Champions fan fiction for awhile now. I'm going to post as I write, which can be fun and a little frustrating sometimes. I'll post a scene at a time and code each post as they appear. I'm more than willing to entertain comments and suggestions, so long as the ideas are compatible with the style that I'm still fleshing out. For the moment I'm going with a more serious, restrained narrative. I don't have a specific ending in mind, but there are obvious candidates. Actually, I'm thinking this might just be a never-ending soap opera that I'll add to whenever the mood strikes. I want to take it slow.

Disclaimer: All characters, events, and locations depicted in this fictional account are used with permission. No fee or service has been provided to the author. Any opinions or comments expressed are solely those of Rachael Ross. This story is provided free of charge to consenting adults at www.futanaripalace.com and may not be reposted without express written permission. Enjoy.

Intended for Adults Only

http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/7842/9yvpcb58fu0puia4g.jpg

image courtesy http://www.furaffinity.net/user/fenoxo/

Title: None at the moment

Synopsis: The teenage daughter of a fallen Champion comes of age in the cursed realm of Mareth.

Codes: Fantasy, Transformation, Sex and probably Violence, and Humor (I hope)

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Chapter One - Part One

In which our hero is cautiously introduced

and certain of her details are revealed

Just after sunset everything seemed to calm down. The world moved slowly, like there was more time. The shops were closed, their windows shuttered, awnings furled, and keepers retired to warm suppers, and wives and children. A lamplighter perched atop his ladder tipped his cap as I walked by, careful to go around and not under. I saw nobody else, but soon enough they would crawl from their hidey-holes. The sex mongers, pimps and whores, and worse. A drug for every addiction, despite all claims to the contrary; a price for every purse. Everything was negotiable once the sun went down and the good people of Tel'Adre were safely tucked into their beds.

My footsteps echoed across the cobblestones. This was a part of the city most people never saw. Visitors only rarely made it past the Quarry Gate, which opened into Merchant Square, and never without an escort. But I'd been this way before and if I wasn't a true resident of the city,