FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Windsar Adventures

Part 7: Meeting Yvette and the Darkness Unveiled

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

_ _

The world of Therafim can be found online:

_ _

Please note that all battles and other events (including chances of pregnancy) are rolled out, creating an element of randomness to the flow of each story. The dice can be fickle, but so goes that gaming session. The rules used are drawn from the Pathfinder (primarily) and Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 (secondarily) games. Presently I am updating the Therafim site to be more fully Pathfinder-compliant. Anyone who wants to help in that endeavor should contact me.

_ _

Recently, I acquired sets of the Critical Fumble and Critical Hit decks put out by Paizo Publishing. I intend to put these to full use in the stories, but will be liberally applying them in the most erotic fashion possible (damage from spell backlash, for instance, being applied to clothing first, and so on).

_ _

Additionally, I wish to clarify that, while combat is rolled out for each fight, I regularly shorten actual confrontations as much as possible to keep the action moving more swiftly. So, for example, where it might take three rounds for an especially lucky orc to go down after Flintclaw chops away with two low damage rolls and a miss, while the orc fails to land a single successful blow on our intrepid alpha wolfen, and the timing of events isn't that important, I will instead just describe the scene as the orc getting his head chopped off in a single blow by Flintclaw, and move on to the next encounter.

It had been a week into the wilderness, and Sheru had firmly decided that she hated camping. Well...maybe it would have been all right, if she'd been alone, or perhaps with Luna, with whom she'd quickly developed a fast friendship, or even Tia, Harrin, and Ballia, who she could respect and admire for their greater experience in the field. Arag, the towering, green-furred orog, was actually a nice person despite his race, quiet and respectful, and he spent a lot of time with Harrin, with whom he seemed to have developed a rapport, and though they didn't talk much, Sheru got the impression that they were communicating much, much more without words. But with the elves and the wolfen along, things were difficult for Sheru, to say the least.

Actually, Sheru got the strongest impression that she wasn't the only one to feel uncomfortable about the present situation; Harrin had a tendency to spend most of her time closer to the campfire at the end of each day's travel, Arag staying close to the dwarfgirl, who he seemed to have decided he was going to protect at any and all costs. Sheru, however, though she might wish she could do the same, staying close to the campfire while the others in the party strayed hither and yon, seeking out the privacy of the surrounding woodlands, had to seek out some privacy of her own.

For one, though Master Charles had mostly weaned Sheru from the use of spell components - the curse of most mages which they required in order to focus their magic - through extensive training in focusing the free magic that permeated Therafim, if she was going to actually learn new spells, she still needed the occasional spell component for her first casting of any given spell. This required Sheru to go hunting for herbs and spices, bits of bat guano, feathers from birds, tufts of fur caught on bushes, gobs of spiderweb, and similar items of little importance in themselves, but with immense power when used in the right combinations and with the right application of power. Finding them was thankfully rather easy, and simply required that Sheru know where to look, and spend the time and effort to collect enough of the stuff.

Bat guano, of course, wasn't the sort of thing that you regularly found lying around out of doors, even in the vast, moist, dimly-lit world of the Great Green. Though Sheru had demonstrated her ability to fling fiery explosions in a pinch while fighting the orcs, her ability to do so had been mostly relying on the prior experiences of Master Charles through his staff. If she ever intended to cast them without his staff in her hands, she'd need bits of sulfur (which she had) and guano (which she didn't). Grateful both that they were still near the Granite Mountains when Sheru thought of it, and also that she'd only need a small quantity of the stuff, and only once, as the thought of handling bat guano at all didn't sit well with the teenaged wizardess, Sheru determined to acquire some of the flammable stuff. One night, when they were camping not far from a few small caves she'd glimpsed from the small trail through the Great Green that they were using (a trail discovered by the ever-diligent Tornan, who spent a great deal of the daylight hours roving back and forth along the trail, ensuring they didn't run into any of the many dangers of the Great Green - or that those dangers ran into them), after telling Harvas, who was on sentry duty at the time, where she was going and what she intended to do there, Sheru made her way toward the caves. What she discovered there, however, made her forget for a while all about gathering guano.

"There's no use denying it," came Tia's voice from within the first cave Sheru had drawn near, and Sheru, having approached cautiously so as not to disturb any potentially dangerous inhabitants, continued her silent approach, so that she could peek around the mouth of the cave, her eyes widening as she saw Tia and Ballia standing there, their backs towards her. "Luna's told me all about what you did to her."

It was when Sheru heard a deep, growling chuckle from beyond the human and elf that Sheru's attention went beyond them to the figures illuminated by a glowing arrow Ballia was holding in one hand. It was Luna and Flintclaw, and they were both naked! Though Sheru couldn't see much from where she was, not with Tia and Ballia in the way, she remembered all the rest more than well enough from her glimpse a few nights ago. Luna had her smooth, mocha-skinned bottom pressed against the side of the cave, her arms moved to cover herself as well as she could, her cheeks heavily flushed in embarrassment. Flintclaw, on the other hand, stood proudly in the middle of the cave, his hands on his hips, looking down at the two young women confronting him with an air of ultimate confidence. His demeanor seemed to have stymied Tia's efforts at confrontation, for her words, which had started out with anger and spite, trailed off uncertainly at the end, while Ballia didn't seem able to say anything at all, both elf and human staring down at Flintclaw's crotch.

"Yeah, I know," Flintclaw answered, taking a step toward the pair before him. "I told Luna she should tell you, after she asked me about it. After all, you're her sister, and she loves you a lot; if I had any siblings, I wouldn't keep secrets from 'em." Then he shrugged, a smirk spreading on his muzzle. "It's not my fault if she was kinda explicit about it."

"Explicit!" exclaimed Tia, her face turning back up to glare at the fire-furred wolfen's expression, taking a step forward every few seconds of her tirade. "She told us about the obscene things you were doing to her with your fingers, and your tongue. And about how you mounted her like she was some bitch in heat on the streets of our hometown. My sister's not ready for that kind of education, you sick, perverted wolf! Isn't that right, Ballia?"

"Yeah, sure," agreed the green-haired elfwoman, though the words were half-hearted, and it was obvious she wasn't paying close attention, most of her focus being on what lay between Flintclaw's legs. From the brief glimpses that Sheru could get, it seemed that Flintclaw and Luna had been interrupted during some more alone-time like they'd had back at Ralist's lair, and the indefatigable wolfen hadn't lost his excitement in the least.

"So she's not ready, huh?" said Flintclaw, also taking small steps forward as he spoke. "It's all about Luna here, according to you, about how she's too immature, too inexperienced, how I've taken advantage of poor, poor Luna." Flintclaw rolled his eyes, then glanced, briefly, at Luna. "Luna, did I make you do anything you didn't want? Or did I ever keep going if you told me to stop?"

"No, Flintclaw," said the mocha-skinned teen, looking down at her feet, her legs squeezed tightly together. "And...I never told you to stop." As she said this last, she raised her eyes, looking straight at her sister in defiance.

"That's not the problem, though," Flintclaw continued, cutting off Tia as she was about to say something more, before he took another step just as she did, her chainmail bodice pressing firmly against his broad, solidly-muscled chest. "Luna's fine, and that's plain to see. I haven't _really_hurt her, more than the pain of being stretched out a bit, that is, and she's been happy these last few days, so even you could notice it." He cocked his head slightly to the side at that, questioningly. "You did notice that, didn't you?"

"I...that's not the point here," Tia got out, stammering slightly, her eyes turning away from Flintclaw's. But before she could make any other movement, the alpha wolfen's hand caught her gently by her chin, turning her head to face him once more.

"No, it isn't," said Flintclaw, crouching slightly, so that he was face-to-face with the tall, scarlet-tressed warrior woman. "It's because you're feeling left out."

"What?" gasped Tia, her mouth dropping open. "You can't claimmmmm..."

Tia's words trailed off as Flintclaw suddenly closed the scant gap between his muzzle and Tia's mouth, kissing her with a barbarian's passion. At first Tia pressed against Flintclaw's chest, trying to push him away, her dark eyes flashing with indignation. Then her fingers curled, while her eyes closed, and she started to visibly kiss him back, her mouth moving against his own with a passion that was easily the equal of the wolfen's.

Luna and Ballia just watched, eyes and mouths wide in shock and arousal, as Tia savagely pushed the powerful wolfen alpha back against the side of the cave wall, even while he brutally tore at the straps on her chainmail, sending a few stray links clinking to the cave floor as Flintclaw stripped Tia's gorgeous, muscular body bare, while the pair never once broke their kiss. No virgin by any means, Tia knew where to touch Flintclaw, her fingers brushing the fur of his chest upward, exposing his surprisingly cherry red nipples, before she pinched down on them, giving them a little bit of a twist until the mighty wolfen alpha whimpered into their kiss. In return, her seized Tia's tanned, firmly-rounded bottom in his massive paws, groping and stroking and rolling the bouncy half-orbs until Tia was moaning in needy passion.

"I get to be in charge," gasped Tia as she broke their kiss at last. "I'm the one who calls the shots. My body, my rules. You still game, bosswolf?"

"Always," growled Flintclaw, his voice almost lost in the bestial expression from the intensity of his passion. "First time for everything."

Sheru almost couldn't breathe as she watched Tia stroke her entire body against Flintclaw's, but gulped suddenly as she realized that every movement of Tia's body against Flintclaw's must be stroking his raging erection, they were so tightly-pressed. Then Tia lifted her leg, pressing her knee against the rock wall of the cave, and Sheru could see just how flushed and aroused the flame-haired woman was, her juices running down her inner thighs, even as Sheru could see how aroused the fire-furred male was, his fire-red, rock-hard cock stroking instantly up between her legs, rubbing it firmly against Tia's swollen labia. True to his words, Flintclaw didn't move, just letting his paws rest on her rump, letting Tia do as she pleased, rubbing herself against his body, her juices running down and wetting the fur of Flintclaw's belly and thighs. Her movements sped up soon, becoming more erratic, more jerky. Then, with a sudden orgasmic cry, Tia's head jerked back, and she sank herself all the way down Flintclaw's proud wolfen erection, until her widely-stretched labia was wetly kissing the furry ring at the base of his sheathe.

Her breathing coming in short, rapid bursts, Sheru hardly even noticed as her fingers began to slowly lift the skirts of her blue robes, exposing her smooth, pink-skinned legs by scant handspans. The most that her attention was able to waver was for her green eyes to dart first to Luna, her back still pressed to the cool cave wall, her hands no longer covering her body, but instead working busily between her coltish legs, the boyish-figured girl crying out in time with her sister as Tia's full breasts and erect red nipples rubbed against Flinctlaw's broad chest. Then Sheru's attention flicked to Ballia, who had bent forward, her doeskin leather shorts now down to her ankles. One of the elfgirl's hands rested on the wall, supporting her weight, holding the glowing arrow pinned to the stone, while the other was busily rubbing between her legs, even as the green-haired elf's tiny bum, sized for a wood elf, wiggled back and forth, looking almost disproportionate to her high elf-sized breasts, which strained dangerously against her leather halter.

The truth, of course, was that Tia did need this, and more badly than she'd thought. After almost two days in the clutches of the orcs, forced to serve first the lust of the males of the warband, and then those of their warchief as a harem slave, the red-haired warrior woman needed to feel honest sexual pleasure once more, and she needed to be the one in charge while she had it. It was cleansing for her soul, grunting with each vigorous thrust of her body against the powerful, red-furred wolfen's muscled form, her breasts squeezed tight against his chest, his balls slapping against her hard, tanned bottom with each solid impact of their bodies. Suddenly, Tia lifted her other leg, wrapping them both around Flintclaw's waist, while his huge paws went to her bottom, his thumbs resting on the dimples where her rump met her back, holding her up, letting her ride him even harder and faster, holding nothing back. She didn't want gentle loving right then. Tia wanted bestial savage, almost painful rutting, the feeling of that massive pink wolfcock spreading her open so very widely. Unbidden, an image of a stallion riding a mare came to her mind, and she could feel the similarity, except she was the stallion here, almost slamming Flintclaw's well-muscled body back against the cave wall in her desperate need to get her own rocks off, using him like she'd been used by the brutish orcs, with Flintclaw just doing his best to hold on. The sheer power of it made Tia's mind reel, made her grit her teeth as her pleasure spiked once more, and then cry out loudly as she felt hot wolfen cum splashing inside of her, Flintclaw's sharp grunt of pleasure almost drowned out by the blood rushing in her own ears. Tia promptly turned that grunt into a _yelp_as she suddenly bit down on Flintclaw's bared throat, feeling his body trembling under her as he sank to his knees, her hips still grinding against his own, her inner walls milking him as she felt her whole body flush with pleasure that, rather than exhausting her, made her feel charged with energy

Pushing Flintclaw down onto his back, Tia grinned like a savage as she rested her hands on his rock-hard belly, then began to roll her hips, quickly feeling his once-flagging erection return to full strength and hardness. The seemingly limitless sexual energy of the red-furred barbarian made Tia think for a moment that his claims of being the son of a god might actually have some truth to them. Those thoughts, however, were swept away as Tia felt a smaller hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she gasped softly as she saw Luna standing there, looking at her with such flushed cheeks, her smooth brown body on full display.

"Tia..." she murmured softly, her eyes heavy-lidded, and before either sister knew it, Flintclaw's paw caught Luna's hip, pulling her forward, and in an instant they were kissing each other full on the lips, not as sisters, but as lovers. Tia's hands rose, stroking her little sister's cute little breasts and perky, dark nipples, even as Luna did the same to Tia's much larger breasts, running her smaller hands over the full, firm orbs in small circles, exploring their wonderful dimensions.

Suddenly, Luna's head snapped back, and she wailed loudly to the roof of the cave as she broke the kiss with her sister, her hands squeezing down tightly on Tia's breasts, almost painfully so. Tia blinked in surprise for an instant, then glanced down, seeing how Flintclaw had pulled little Luna over his muzzle, which was noisily and messily slurping and suckling on Luna's juicy, mocha-skinned girlparts, his hips holding the teen's hips firmly so her frantic gyrations wouldn't lift her right off his eager, hungry mouth as he stretched her wide with his pistoning tongue.

Her passions even more enflamed from seeing her little sister's smooth little cunny spread wide on a wolfen's tongue, Tia began to ride Flintclaw's hips like she would a horse at a gallop, rolling her hips in waves to take him all the way to her depths, grinding forward and up, and then down and back, maximizing her own stimulation while making her full breasts bounce with the vigor of her almost brutal thrusting. It was like riding the ocean, Tia thought in a brief moment of clarity, each crashing crest an orgasm that washed over her soul, cleansing her of the trials of her capture, freeing her spirit as well as her body. Once more Tia leaned forward, her hands gently pulling Luna against her, their smooth bodies, sharing similar color of skin but few other resemblances, rubbing against each other, kissing each other, as they writhed in the passions they shared with Flintclaw, letting their climaxes splash through both their bodies, even as Tia felt the second of Flinctlaw's orgasms splash inside her innermost depths.

Panting hard, Tia broke her kiss with Luna, letting the teen slump forward, resting her hands on Flintclaw's belly as she humped back at his questing muzzle and thrusting tongue, moaning in slutty abandon, giving herself over utterly to the pleasure. When Flintclaw carefully squeezed a thick digit into Luna's tensed backside, it just enhanced her pleasure all the more, making her almost scream as she came once more. Tia, however, knew when she needed to stop - her body was bathed in the sweat of good, honest passion, and if she kept going any more, she'd be no use in the morning if they ran into any problems. With a wince, she slowly rose up, letting Flinctlaw's heavy cock pop free of her tightly-clenching inner muscles, and then flop wetly against his belly for a moment, drenched in her juices and his cum, before Luna greedily closed her mouth over the proud and powerful member, stifling her noisy cries of pleasure by putting her mouth to work on sucking the alpha male's penis with all her might and burgeoning skill.

Wobbling a little on unsteady legs, Tia leaned against the side of the cave, catching her breath. Then the strong redheaded warrior woman heard the soft, dovelike cry of Ballia, still bent forward nearby, working a hand between her legs in the slow, delicate fashion common to elves as she brought herself to a quiet, dainty orgasm. It was enough to make Tia chuckle despite her tiredness: on their own, all elves save their dark cousins beneath the surface were a sensual people, but not a passionate one. They could revel in the most debauched of orgies, and still seem completely dignified, completely in control of their every emotion. For an elf to feel true passion, they needed to share it with the shorter-lived races.

"C'mon, Ballia," said Tia, walking over and grabbing her green-haired friend by the shoulder, making the elfgirl gasp as she was pulled back to her feet, almost stumbling on her leather shorts before she kicked them aside, leaving herself naked from the waist down, her inner thighs glistening with her sweet elven juices. "You need to get laid worse than I did."

Ballia stammered out a half-hearted protest, something about it being scandalous, improper, things her high elf half must have inspired in her, and which Tia completely ignored as she pulled her friend a few paces, then stepped behind her and pushed the elfgirl a few more, until she was forced to lift a foot and step over Flintclaw so as to avoid stumbling. This placed her straddling the wolfen's broad, muscular hips, staring almost straight down into the "face" of Flinctlaw's cock, which Luna, noticing the approach of her sister with Ballia before her, was now helpfully holding erect and upright, pointed straight towards Ballia's smooth and so very flushed little cunny.

"He's too big," Ballia whispered, her eyes wide, her breathing coming in tight gasps as Tia started to press the unresisting elfgirl downward, the swollen cap of Flintclaw's cock getting steadily closer to her vulnerable, needy little quim. "He's...he's just too...too...ooohh! OOOH!"

"Oh yeah," growled Flintclaw, pulling his muzzle away from Luna's cunny for a moment, looking between the teen's legs to watch both sisters slowly work the immense head of the wolfen's cock into the wriggling, green-haired elfgirl, Tia pushing on Ballia's shoulders while Luna held Flintclaw's shaft firmly in place. "Push her down on that nasty wolfcock."

On an impulse, Luna leaned a little bit more forward just as Ballia's tightly-clenching inner labia were clasping down firmly on the midway point of Flintclaw's glans, right at that mark where it finally started to mushroom out fully, letting her feel just how thick he really was. At that moment, Luna's lips latched onto Ballia's protruding clitoris, and she began to suckle wetly, messily, on the green-haired girl's lovebutton, trying her best to mimic what Flintclaw had already done to her many times before. As the added stimulation wracked through her body, Ballia gave a high-pitched wail, her entire body tensing up, making her jerk upwards against Tia's strong hands, almost lifting herself right off Flintclaw's cock before she'd even sunk down more than the width of her littlest finger onto it. Tia, however, didn't flinch, and suddenly Ballia's strength gave out, and she sank downward, her gape-mouthed, wide-eyed expression almost comical as she sank, slowly but surely, all the way down Flintclaw's thick red cock, until her smooth little bottom was resting on the wolfen's huge, sperm-swollen scrotum.

Eyes wide and wondering, Luna did her best to lift herself off of Flintclaw's muzzle so that she could crawl forward near his side, to get a better view of what it looked like when a penis went into a beautiful woman. She had to be helped a bit with a gentle push on her bum from Flintclaw's paw, her legs were so wobbly, but soon Luna was resting on all-fours, her chin resting on the side of Flintclaw's hip, her bottom held high as Flintclaw casually gripped her bottom, occasionally working a finger or two into her snug, clenching cunny or tiny tushie, always keeping the sensitive teen right on the edge. As Luna stared at the point where Flintclaw's cock spread open Ballia's tiny elfquim, she was struck that this must be how she looked with his penis inside of her. The thought made her inner walls milk the finger presently stroking inside of her with the shudder of a small orgasm.

While Luna admired the artistic contrast between smooth, pale skin and dark, ruddy fur and flesh, between the dainty elf and the brutish wolfen, not to mention their obvious size difference, Ballia was living through these differences. As an elf, one of the older races formed by the gods themselves, she was blessed by the gods of good with a generous portion of their choicest gifts. Besides the obvious gifts of physical beauty, otherworldly grace, and immense longevity, Ballia, like all elves, was also graced with an astonishing degree of flexibility, coupled with an amazing ability to recover from almost any stress, strain, or injury that did not cause immediate death. What this normally meant was that Ballia had excellent agility and dexterity, and her perfectly smooth skin never scarred. What it also meant, however, was that she could take even an obscenely large member like Flintclaw's right to the gates of her womb, and enjoy it, and afterward her quim would recover completely from the stretching, until she was almost as tight as a virgin once again. Of course, the latter effect would take a while, especially considering how very, very widely she was being stretched. In more immediate terms, this meant that Ballia, while Flintclaw gripped her hip with his free hand, and Tia was mauling the elfgirl's beautiful, full breasts in her strong hands, was able to fully appreciate the moment of her complete and total penetration far more than any human possibly could, at least on the first time. Even more immediately, this meant that Ballia's body had been wracked with an orgasm almost every fingerspan that she'd sunk down Flintclaw's rampant cock, and when she'd finally reached the base of that magnificent organ, her whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat, her mind right on the verge of total shutdown from the raw pleasure coursing through her entire being.

Just when she thought that even the slightest movement on her part might make her shatter to pieces, Ballia gave a loud gasp as she felt Flintclaw's whole body tensing up beneath her, giving her a fraction of a second to brace herself for what she knew was coming next. It wasn't enough, of course; nothing could ever be enough to prepare her when Flintclaw gripped her hip a little tighter...and then started to _hump_her. His hips thrusting upward at a brutal pace, loudly, wetly slapping against Ballia's inner thighs, his balls slapping her bottom until it turned nice and red, Flintclaw grinned like the savage he was, his teeth bared and tightly-clenched as he reveled in the loud, orgasmic wails he forced from the elfgirl's lips as her whole world reeled in the savage passion of this bestial mating.

Watching the elfgirl's breasts bounce, Flintclaw panted hard as he worked his hips upward, making the hot elfling jiggle in the most enticingly erotic ways. Without Luna on top of his muzzle to distract his senses, Flintclaw couldn't miss the tell-tale scent of an elf in heat. While Flintclaw had no knowledge of Ballia's former ravishment by the worgs, or the lupine sperm that was even then waiting in the wings for an opportunity to impregnate her, he did know that an elf's sexual cycle was a slow thing, and any male who had an elf within the long week of her peak fertility had a roughly equal chance to knock up the female in question. This knowledge firm in the wolfen alpha's mind, and never once doubting the potency of his own divinely-sired seed, Flintclaw never slackened his vigorous pace once, the hand penetrating Luna's body pumping in time with his hips, making the girl bite into her forearm to muffle her scream of orgasm, her smooth brown bottom tensing and flexing enticingly. Luna's sounds of climax seemed to be all that it took to start the chain reaction, as first Ballia fell back against Tia's firm but pillowy breasts, crying out in her own orgasmic passion as her cunny visibly pulsed, her hips jerking wildly as she came and came and came, her whole world starting to blur at the primal passion that was overwhelming her. Flintclaw didn't hold himself back either, giving a loud, masculine grunt and snarl as he sank himself right up to the hilt inside the cumming elfgirl, and came as well, filling her with a torrent of rich, virile sperm that quickly hurried to compete in the race for her elven ovum.

A small, quiet climax rocked her own body as Sheru watched her dear friend and the good-hearted elfgirl Ballia cum together right alongside Flintclaw. As he pulled out, the blonde wizardess had to work to stifle the soft whimper that escaped her throat as she shuddered again with another, slightly more powerful orgasm at the sight of the fire-furred alpha's dark red cock popping free, bobbing in the open air of the cave, glistening in the light of the magical arrow that Ballia had left forgotten on the floor near the entrance. Daring to tease a finger a little lower than her clitoris - for up to the time before her adventure, Sheru had never done much sexual exploration of her own body, beyond just enough to learn that it felt good when she rubbed her clitoris just right - Sheru sucked in her breath as, just as a single finger slid into her soaking wet cunny, Flintclaw turned his attention to Luna, grabbing the small-bodied teen's bottom in both his huge paws, groping her buns with obvious enjoyment for several long moments, before he drew one hand back to grip his raging, throbbing erection. He guided the tip to Luna's eagerly soaked cunny, and Sheru's own slow moan matched that of Luna as she fit her finger inside of herself roughly in time with Flintclaw's own slow, deep thrust, until he'd buried every last part of his length deep inside of the sweat-shining girl. Sheru expected, as Flintclaw drew his cock back, its length shining and slick with Luna's juices, that soon she'd be allowed to watch her friend mounted like an animal, and her finger continued to move in time with Flintclaw's shaft, Sheru's focus wavering too much between her body's movements and the scene playing out before her to properly control herself any more, just letting her hand move on automatic. This proved to be a mistake as, instead of driving himself back inside of Luna's cunny, Flintclaw growled something in the girl's ear, and she nodded, looking a bit hesitant, but still willing as well as intensely aroused. Her finger still on automatic, Sheru gaped in shock as, instead of thrusting his length back inside Luna's sex, his cock popped free once more, before he guided it upward...and began to press it, slowly and gently, against Luna's tense little anal star.

For a moment, Sheru's eyes were fixed on that point where Flintclaw's cockhead met Luna's tiny rear passage, the tightly-clenched pucker resisting his forward push, making the shaft of his cock bend slightly. Then, suddenly, Luna gave a sweet cry and Flintclaw answered it with a guttural snarl as the fat knob of his glans popped past that tight outer ring, and then slid smoothly inside, followed soon after by his immensely long shaft. Luna wasn't the only one to cry out, however, as she was anally penetrated: Sheru also cried out, much louder than she'd anticipated, when her own finger popped inside her anus and plunged forward right up to the last knuckle. Her legs giving out, Sheru sank to her knees, breathing hard as she watched Flintclaw working his hips over her friend, nice and slow at first, but very quickly speeding up as Luna started to thrust back at him, obviously not wanting him to be gentle with her, and also very obviously loving every moment as she reached back and started to frig herself with her fingers. Despite knowing she should have left long before this moment, Sheru was unable to tear her gaze away from that powerful male organ as it sawed back and forth within Luna's tightly-clenching bottom, and equally unable to keep from bending forward, supporting herself on her free hand while she continued to pump that single finger into her quivering sphincter, her whole body shuddering in time with Luna's at the truly dirty, intoxicating pleasure it filtered into her brain.

Then Sheru's eyes lifted a little higher, and widened as they met Flintclaw's own eyes. He'd known she was there all the time! And now there she was, bent over with the skirts of her robe fallen around her waist, the perfect globes of her pert pink bottom thrust high in open invitation into the air, using her own fingers to experience by proxy what dear Luna was experiencing firsthand. Flintclaw's hips started to speed up, and Luna gave a wild, uninhibited cry, not trying to stifle it this time, as she hit another powerful peak, her rump visibly tensing as she bore down with all her youthful might on Flintclaw's cock. Baring his fangs with a loud exclamation of passion, Flintclaw pulled back just at the moment of his own climax, just in time to butter Luna's buns with his thick cum.

Seeing Flintclaw's eyes linger on her body, and knowing full well that what he'd done to Luna, he would surely do to her next just as soon as he got his breath back, no matter what she might say to stop him, Sheru turned and ran, scooping up her panties with one hand, feeling the wolfen's hungry eyes on her naked bottom for the too-long seconds it took for her skirts to fall back into place.

Luckily for Sheru, Flintclaw didn't pursue, though that was likely just because of the other quite willing and ready females still in the cave, to whom he'd have to explain himself if he intended to hold down little Sheru and have his way with her no matter how much she might protest or struggle. In the morning, after Sheru had searched another cave and done her practice with sufficient guano to get a good magical blaze going, Flintclaw didn't act as though anything were amiss, and he didn't seem any more aggressive to Sheru than he'd ever been. Still, Sheru vowed never to let herself be alone with the wolfen alpha, which always kept her slightly on-edge no matter where she was while they traveled.

Of course, Luna's dalliances with Flintclaw weren't the only bit of sexual tension going on, nor the trysts with Tia and Ballia. It wasn't at all uncommon for the blue-skinned moon elven twins, Fieryat and Ambrae, to go out on patrols, and it was just about as likely that young, black-furred Tornan, or the older, grey-furred wolfen Harvas would join them, even occasionally accompanied by Eärlindë or Flintclaw. Once, while she'd been searching for a few rare herbs, and some cobwebs, Sheru had briefly come across the three elves, the twins on either side of their noble-blooded charge, all three of them on all-fours, moaning eagerly as all three wolfen plowed their upraised rumps from the rear, trading places every so often as they climaxed inside their lovers, the wolfen timing their pleasures and their thrusting and their eventual orgasms almost in perfect synchronization, demonstrating the true power of a pack, many creatures acting as one. This time, however, Sheru had learned her lesson, and quickly vacated the area after getting over her momentary shock.

With so much passion rising almost in the very air around them, it was all that Sheru could do to keep her wits about her, and sometimes it seemed like she was the only one pushing the party forward every morning when they broke camp, coaxing the others along with more force of personality than she thought she'd ever possessed. For some reason the others were willing to listen to her, even the dominant personalities of Flintclaw and Tia acquiescing to Sheru's desires. Tia, of course, was a bit more subdued in pride after her capture by the orcs, and this made her a bit more willing to let Sheru be the one to take charge. Flintclaw, on the other hand, seemed to have his own reasons for following Sheru, and for obeying her, reasons which both Tornan and Harvas must have known about, for they never once seemed to lose their respect for or obedience to Flintclaw, not even when Sheru had him doing common tasks in the making and breaking of camp. As for Eärlindë and her escort, they seemed content to simply follow, taking part in an adventure that was not really their own, and Sheru expected they would leave as soon as they felt their obligations to the wolfen were properly fulfilled. Since they seemed to have become amorously attached to said wolfen, however, they were already following far longer than Sheru expected they would have under any other circumstances.

Almost a week later, it was with inexpressible relief that Sheru looked up, and realized that the canopy above had thinned enough for her to see patches of blue sky up above. In all the excitement that came from the development of interparty relationships, she'd hardly even considered the dangers of the woods themselves, and now that she was right on the edge of leaving them, Sheru realized with a start how much peril they had all been in the whole time they'd been under the perpetual twilight of the Great Green's towering trees.

"We're almost out of the woods," she breathed in slow relaxation, looking at Luna and Tia, who were walking nearby, feeling sweet peace wash over her as they returned the smile she gave. Of course, Tia's faded into a sullen scowl as she realized what this meant.

"Yvette's place should be just another two or three days off," she said, half pleased and half reluctant. "If we can keep up the pace we've had so far, I'd bet that we could even make it in just a day-and-a-"

Instantly, then, Tia grew silent and lowered herself into a crouch, drawing her large sword smoothly from its scabbard on her back, while Luna mirrored the actions of her sister, drawing her sword and gripping it two-handed. Sheru only realized that she'd heard the soft birdcall from the front, where Tornan and the twins were scouting the way ahead, a second or two later, and similarly lowered herself into a more ready stance, calming her breathing to better channel her magic through the staff her mentor had entrusted to her. Harrin, just a little behind, taking the rearguard with Arag beside her, and Ballia a few paces before, walking next to Eärlindë and Harvas, all paused a moment before they also readied themselves for conflict. Up at the front of the group, Flintclaw's axe glinted in the sunlight as he slung shield and axe into his hands, his whole body seeming almost to glow with his eagerness to fling himself into some fray.

Moments later, as the party closed up formation and waited in wary readiness, Tornan came trotting briskly but still quietly from the underbrush, raising a paw to ensure that he was seen and recognized before he got too close and potentially drew some startled mistaken attacks.

"It's some two-legged lizards," he explained to the group, though he mostly addressed Flintclaw. "They're almost as long as I'm tall. Fieryat called them velociraptors." The black-furred wolfen shrugged. "Nothing like what we have living back home, eh, Flintclaw?" Flintclaw grinned in response and nodded to Tornan to continue. "They're on the hunt, but they don't seem to care much about us. It looks like they're reduced in numbers right now, after they took down a much bigger two-legged lizard, a large carnivore Fieryat calls a tyrannosaurus rex. For some reason, though, they're just circling the carcass, not closing in, and pretty upset about something. If we don't go the long way around, we're probably in for a fight."

Ballia, however, frowned as she heard Tornan's description of the situation, and stepped forward.

"Let's get a bit closer," she said. "I want Sheru to come, too. There's something not right about this situation; I want to see what it is, and I want some heavy firepower for backup if things go wrong."

Gripping her staff a little tighter, Sheru nodded at the green-haired elfgirl's request, and started after her, sticking as close to Ballia as she dared. The young wizardess felt more than saw as Tornan, Ambrae, and Fieryat spread out, fading into the underbrush. If Sheru hadn't known they were there, she might have thought that the woods around her were devoid of humanoid life. Somewhat behind, making sure to provide some distance so as not to alert the foe they were approaching, Flintclaw led the others with great care, Harvas at one shoulder, Tia at the other, Luna right behind him, ready to back him up at a moment's notice, while Eärlindë kept just behind Luna, softly whispering a prayer to the Great Stag in readiness for any difficulties that might come up. For a moment, Sheru couldn't help but smirk at how easy it was to take the gods and the blessings they provided for granted as part of this strange new life into which she'd entered: the life of an adventurer. She made a mental note to do her best to never forget the wonder of such things, among all the other wonders she expected to encounter in this time out of the cradle of her tutelage.

With the party now in formation to handle whatever might come, Sheru watched close by Ballia's shoulder (and noted, incidentally, that, even as modest of height the well-endowed wood elf might be, she only came up to Ballia's shoulders), while the green-haired girl nocked an arrow to her bow, but left the string loose for the time being, ready to draw back at a moment's notice, but leaving her arms relaxed for now so as not to build up tension that might weaken her shot's strength. Though Sheru wasn't the quietest person around, she also wasn't especially noisy, either, and did have a knack for avoiding notice when she put her mind to it. So it was that, with Ballia there as an example of what to do, Sheru managed to tap into some of the elven heritage of her grandfather, and became almost soundless on her soft-booted feet, almost as soundless as the true elf leading the way.

It was with almost complete stealth that the pair peered out, side-by-side, on the scene that Tornan had reported. There was the massive carcass of a reptilian creature Sheru assumed must be the tyrannosaurus...and it was a lot bigger than she'd expected, big enough to take her breath away for a moment, its size dominating everything even in the stillness of death. Around the olive green body stalked a number of strange creatures, also obviously reptiles, each about Sheru's height, give or take, and around Flintclaw's height in length from snout to tail. Despite their obvious reptilian natures, they had feathers extending from their heads and down their backs and arms, with the males having a crest and bright red and green plumage, while the smaller females had similar coloration, but much duller, with more brown tones added in, obviously to make them more able to blend. She recalled reading in a book once that these creatures were supposed to be even smaller than the birdlike reptiles she saw before her, but supposed that, given the nature of the Great Green, filled with life and the magical energies of nature as it was, larger variants on even otherwise normal animals must be fairly commonplace. There were at least ten of the small creatures that Sheru could see, though she couldn't be completely sure because of their constant rapid movement. That such small creatures could have taken down the behemoth that lay limp and cold on the forest floor boggled Sheru's mind, and yet it seemed to have been so, though, as she looked closer, Sheru did see deep wounds all along the great olive-scaled beast, made by claws and teeth far in excess of the natural weaponry sported by the little velociraptors, indicating that it had probably been wounded before it encountered the pack that had finished it off.

Glancing at Ballia, Sheru frowned as she saw the wood elf slide her arrow back into its quiver, and then draw out another arrow, this one with a large, cylindrical wooden head, carved strangely, with holes running through the cylinder in several places. It didn't look nearly as effective as a weapon as the steel-tipped arrow she'd had out before, and Sheru frowned in confusion, not knowing what Ballia planned, but still ready to act, lifting her staff slightly as she reached into its magical reserves, drawing out the power she'd need in order to shape the magic of the world around her to her desires, making desire into reality.

"Can you take out that one?" asked Ballia in a soft whisper, so soft it was almost inaudible as she motioned with the tip of the large arrow towards an especially proud-looking male who was perched on top of the carcass, staring down with evil-looking yellow eyes at something hidden on the other side of the fallen dinosaur's bulk. "Try not to kill him."

Sheru nodded, and breathed out slowly, letting some of the magical reserves she'd gathered dissipate harmlessly, so as not to injure herself when they were released, before she closed her eyes, and reached out to the mind of the yellow-crested male. As her eyes opened, Sheru smiled softly as she saw the reptile yawn widely, showing off its many sharp needlelike teeth, before it lowered itself onto the body on which it was perched, and curled up into sleep. An instant later, Ballia's bow snapped up, and the awkward-looking arrow snapped out, making a high-pitched wailing noise as it launched over the teeming raptors, the tip sparking for a moment before it started to release a thick, foul-smelling smoke. For a moment the velociraptors hesitated, making noises somewhere between a birdlike squawk and a bestial growl of alarm. Perhaps if they'd had their leader - the male that Sheru had subdued - still up and active, they might have kept it together. But without any leadership for their pack, the loud noise and bad-smelling smoke made the birdlike creatures turn tail and retreat from the clearing as fast as they could. Sheru could hear their strange cries from nearby in the trees, but they seemed to have decided to back off for a while, giving Ballia time to do...whatever it was that she intended.

What Ballia intended was something Sheru found out soon enough, as she continued to stick close to the elfgirl as Ballia hurried forward, knowing that the time they'd bought was very limited. Circling the immense corpse, Ballia reached into the ration pouch at her hip, and began pulling out several long strips of jerky. The elfgirl didn't eat much meat herself, not needing much food as an elf, and also not liking to take the lives of animals when possible, but it made for a handy source of fast protein for emergencies, besides keeping a long time. As Sheru rounded the outstretched leg of the torn-up tyrannosaurus, she came up short, even as Ballia kept walking forward, though at a much slower pace, at what she saw. There, nestled in the space between the head and the legs of the great beast, where it had apparently tried to curl up protectively in its last moments, was a creature that was able to stare Sheru in the eyes...actually, it was able to stare Ballia in the eyes, at least when it rose to its full height; Sheru would have to tilt her head up. It was like the dead tyrannosaurus, but much smaller, with a similar drab olive green hide, though of a lighter and more vibrant shade than the larger, dead specimen. Sheru realized that this must be the offspring of the larger tyrannosaurus, its child that it had tried to protect to the very last. Not that the little thing seemed to need much protecting! As Ballia approached, and Sheru watched from a safe distance, the tiny tyrannosaur opened its toothy mouth, large enough to engulf Sheru's head with ease, and gave a passable impression of a fierce growl. Well, almost passable, and almost fierce. It was obvious that the little tyrannosaur needed some more time to grow up before it could pull off the true terrifying grandeur of a full-grown tyrannosaurus, and the growl was a bit too high-pitched to be properly intimidating, though its human height and obviously dangerous natural weaponry helped a great deal. Its two-fingered talons flexed, and it widened the stance of its wide, three-toed feet, obviously ready to receive any comers who might want to take it up in a fight.

"Kai'unasae," laughed Ballia, obviously unconcerned by the creature's aggressive display. "She does not give up. Poor thing, lost your mieve, and all alone against those sharp-clawed beasts for who knows how long. You must be starved."

Then the green-haired elf began to softly whisper to the beast, holding out her hand with the jerky. Sheru knew that "mieve" was elven for "mama." While she wasn't a master tracker or naturalist by any means, she spared a closer look at the fallen tyrannosaurus, and could see that its (her, she corrected herself) blood was completely dried, as was the blood on the ground around it, which meant that the great beast must have lain there for several hours at least, during which time its poor child had been forced to fend off the approaching, hungry velociraptors all alone, with a single slip meaning death. Knowing that cornered beasts were the most dangerous of all, Sheru gripped her staff tightly, ready to use her magic again if it was needed should something go terribly wrong as Ballia continued to slowly approach the baby beast at bay.

Stopping her approach as the tyrannosaur child started to tense for a spring, Ballia tossed out a strip of jerky, letting it land on the ground in front of the small terror lizard. For a moment the animal paused, cocking its head in some slight confusion at this odd behavior from what it had supposed was another predator. Then, never taking its eyes off Ballia, it bent, and then quickly scooped the jerky up into its wide maw, gulping it down. A second and third piece of jerky suffered a similar fate, while Ballia steadily drew ever closer to the great beast's child. On the fourth piece of Jerky, Ballia stepped up right next to the tyrannosaur child as it bent to retrieve the latest of its treats, and gently, tenderly, placed her hand on its head, her fingers stroking down its back, and then reaching up to right behind the small depression of its ear-hole. As she began to rub there a bit harder, she softly whispered strange words that Sheru didn't recognize into the little tyrannosaur's ear. And as Ballia spoke those secret words, the tyrannosaur's tense muscles relaxed, its eyes closed, and its lower jaw hung loose as it just basked in the gentle scritching.

"Unasae," Ballia murmured again as she drew her hand back, turning and starting to walk away from the tiny tyrannosaur. For a moment the beast stood there, blinking at the retreating back of the elfgirl. Then, a little hesitantly at first, but soon gaining confidence, it started to walk after her, trotting a bit faster at first to catch up, and then staying almost exactly two of its long-legged paces behind Ballia. Sheru, of course, made sure to keep her distance from the creature that Ballia had befriended, and simply blinked at the elfgirl and her new friend as they started to walk toward the far end of the clearing, in the direction the party had been going before the interruption.

"Um," Sheru began as Flintclaw, Tia, Luna, and Eärlindë stepped out into the clearing, the two humans looking as bemused as Sheru felt, "Ballia? What are you going to do with the baby tyrannosaurus?"

"Keep her, of course," said Ballia with a smile over her shoulder, reaching back to rub the young reptile under her chin, which the ferocious beast seemed to appreciate, leaning forward into the rubbing as it continued to walk after Ballia, who Sheru supposed had now taken on the role of the creature's new mother. "And don't worry - Unasae is quite safe, for us at least; I worked a little elven magic into her aura when we touched, so she trusts me completely, and she ought to at least tolerate the rest of you, since you're my friends." She winked at the bewildered wizardess. "It's not mind control - I just sped up the natural process of making friends a little. It should continue after the spell wears off, as long as I'm still nice to her."

"And keep her well-fed," muttered Tia as she came up behind Sheru, shaking her head in slight annoyance, though it was obvious that she thought too highly of her friend to be really upset. "Elves! No offense, Eärlindë."

"None taken," Eärlindë giggled. "Besides, I think she's cute."

"Ballia or her new friend?"

"Uh..." Eärlindë stammered, blushing all the way up to the tips of her pointed ears.

"Elves," said Tia, turning slightly to give Eärlindë's bottom a light smack through her diaphanous robes, the tone of her voice this time teasing rather than exasperated. "C'mon, we've got a long way yet to go, and we'll probably have to make frequent stops, so as to give the youngster plenty of meat breaks."

As it turned out, as the party discovered over the course of the next several otherwise uneventful days, Una (as the non-elven parts of the party took to calling the young tyrannosaurus) didn't eat much more than any one of them in any given day, though all of it had to be meat, of course. Thankfully, Tornan was a skilled hunter, and the Great Green, even on its boundaries, abounded in life of all sorts, and after he'd brought down a healthy doe with a well-aimed shot through her throat, killing the deer almost instantly, their meat problems were solved for the rest of the trip.

Said trip was actually four days more, longer than Tia had thought, mostly thanks to the especially difficult terrain at the start of the journey as they left the Great Green. It might have taken them even longer, except that, once they were out of the thick forest and onto the rolling plains of the hillcountry and farmland that surrounded the vast city of Nemminus for leagues in all directions, they started to make excellent time indeed, burning up miles especially fast when they finally got to the dirt roads that marked the start of the populated, reasonably civilized areas of the dominion of the Council of Wands, of which Nemminus was the capital. Once they were in these lands, the most exciting encounter they had was a band of wandering halflings, of whom they steered well clear, knowing the larcenous tendencies of nomadic halflings (called longstriders or tallfellows by those who dealt with them often), and not wanting to end up delayed by a day of reveling and fun, followed by still more time lost working to replace whatever might have been surreptitiously taken by the gypsy-like little people.

Other than this minor detour, the land was composed of wide fields and plentiful orchards, all fresh and lush-looking with the onset of mid-spring's buds and shoots and flowers, the air fresh and sweet-smelling with the many growing things of this pastoral land. In such a place, one could easily forget the peril of the Great Green that lay so very close to these settled lands, the border between civilization and savagery far nearer than anyone sensible liked to consider, or that the lands were so fertile for fruit and fields only because of the powerful magic that was regularly renewed over the fields. If not for these enchantments, the Great Green would rise up like a gloom-shrouded behemoth, and devour the farmlands that surrounded the party in a matter of a decade at the most, no matter how much effort the farmers in that land might put into resisting the Great Green's encroachment on their land. There were dark and terrible forces of nature that empowered that nightblack forest, and woe betide any who lacked sufficient protection from its wrath.

It was early evening of the fourth day when the party crested the rise of another small hill, Tia in the lead, and looked out over a pleasant little plantation, a large and high-fenced mansion-house at the center of its well-tended fields and collections of huts and cottages where the obviously small staff of the place worked.

"Brightstar Estate," Tia announced with a sour expression. "Home to the ancestral Brightstar noble family, and its present heiress, Yvette Brightstar." Drawing in a long, slow breath, Tia let it out in a sigh. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

Strangely, as the party approached, they found that the plantation was actually mostly deserted around the main mansion. While from a distance, the huts and cottages that took up the peripheral areas of the estate seemed to have some movement, none of the inhabitants of the rest of the estate seemed terribly eager to go near the big mansion-house itself. Walking a few paces behind and to the side of Tia, Sheru couldn't help but notice this strange avoidance, and she touched Tia on one mocha-skinned arm to get her attention as they passed through a double row of neatly-tended trees on either side of the gravel path leading up to the mansion.

"Why are we the only people here?" she asked, glancing toward an elderly-looking peasant quietly tending a garden almost a mile off, clearly visible even at that distance thanks to the slight rise on which the mansion was built. "There's nothing bigger than my hand around here."

"Yvette's got strange tastes," replied Tia as they drew nearer to the front door, the sun setting behind the mansion, throwing the party into gloom as they walked into its shadow. "Most people around here think she's crazy. She's not, not really; she's just got the adventuring bug, same as me and Ballia and Harrin." Tia smirked at this. "That sort of thing, wandering off and having adventures, just doesn't sit well with decent people, especially when they're supposed to be prim-and-proper noble ladies like the Brightstar women have been for eight generations of fine, upstanding gnomish women. That's how I met Yvette in the first place: she was looking for a way out of her stuffy lifestyle, and we needed a proper mage, somebody to sling those blaster-type magics that those who use the magic of the gods and nature just can't match for sheer destructiveness." Then Tia's expression soured again. "It might have worked out all right, actually, except Yvette...well...she's..."

Tia's hesitation before she might have continued her explanation of why she'd parted ways with Yvette was interrupted then - thankfully from Tia's perspective, less thankfully from the ever-curious Sheru's - when they reached the huge oak double doors at the front of the mansion. Turning her attention completely away from Sheru, letting the blue-and-white-clad wizardess know clearly that the conversation was over, Tia reached up, seizing one of the big brass door knockers gripped tightly in the mouths of brass griffins, and slammed it down several times, sending resonant booming tones throughout the interior of the mansion.

"There," said Tia, putting her hands smugly on her hips. "That'll get somebody out here soon enough." She looked at Sheru again, chuckling softly. "You see, Sheru, with Yvette and the rest of her family, it's important to always be mostly polite, but firm. That way you're sure to-"

"Look out!" screamed Sheru, taking a step back and to the side as the double doors were suddenly flung outward (and Sheru idly noted in that moment of near-panic that they were made to swing both ways, an odd feature indeed), and a massive creature of glinting steel and wickedly sharp edges flung itself out, knocking Tia right over and pinning her to the ground. The rest of the party advanced, weapons drawn and bodies tensed, ready for action, but Sheru felt herself despairing inside, knowing that however fast they might react, it would probably be too late for poor Tia.

*

Urla shifted in slight nervousness behind her new master, Malik Malleus, the Overlord of Darkland, one of the most powerful figures on the world of Therafim, as they stood in the dark chamber, a floating globe of smooth crystal hovering in the air before the armored figure of the Overlord. The greenskinned warrior woman wasn't easily intimidated, but there was...something about the Overlord, about the way he carried himself at all times, that sent shivers up and down her spine. Not all of them were unpleasant shivers, either, she reflected with a slight smirk - Malik was actually a compelling figure in many ways, and Urla found herself quietly hoping that her new master might be willing to introduce her to lovemaking between males and females, something that she'd never tried before then because of her fallen tribe's taboos. Now that she was free of her former culture who knew what might come next; the possibilities were exciting.

Right now, though, Urla was more troubled by the presence of such powerful magic. Over the past few days, during which Malik had never once removed his armor, which Urla assumed was enchanted to make such constant wear possible, and perhaps even comfortable, she and her worg followers and the Overlord had made their way back through the Great Green, following a small trail left behind by a single human with small feet and light weight, judging from her footprints where Urla could find them. The Overlord trusted Urla and her worgs to follow that trail, and that thought filled her with a sense of pride, even eagerness. At least it had, until they had stepped out into a small clearing, where what appeared to be a pleasant-looking, plump-faced human matron with a kerchief on her head and a nearly shapeless peasant's dress over her body was busily loading up all her belongings from a small hut onto a donkey-pulled cart.

As soon as the handsome older woman saw Urla and her worgs, she took a step back from the cart, raising her hands in what Urla immediately recognized as a spellcasting position. Then Malik stepped out behind Urla, and the woman's hands dropped, as did her jaw.

"Overlord Malleus," the matron got out in a choked gasp, her whole body starting to tremble in terror. "Please, Overlord, it's not..."

Malik held up a single gauntleted hand, silencing the woman in an instant, and then walked toward her house, pushing open the door with a very slight breath of exertion, something Urla realized must have been the Overlord using his own powers to dispel whatever defensive magic had been on that door.

"Follow me, Threetails," said Malik in his deep, commanding voice, not raising its volume above an almost conversational tone because it wasn't needed: the matron obviously didn't dare to disobey. "And use your true shape; I dislike speaking to a false face."

Before Urla's eyes, the human matron's guise dropped smoothly, seamlessly, like a gown dropping to a bedroom floor. Instantly, where had once stood an older human matron in simple peasant clothing, now stood a red-furred fox woman in a sheer, shimmering black dress, a cloak as black as the night sky, complete with twinkling stars visible in its depths, draped around her shoulders. Glancing down as she followed behind the vixen, who obediently entered the hut after Malik (the worgs electing to stay outside, obviously not trusting the place), Urla noticed with a slight start that she had three fox tails peeking out from beneath the hem of her long cloak. It was the legendary witch of the Great Green woods, Threetails, herself!

Still dazed at being in the presence of two legendary figures at once, Urla hardly noticed where she was going until the door of the hut slammed shut behind her, leaving her in pitch black darkness. Her hand going to her magical dagger, the only weapon she'd been left after her defeat by the powerful beast Flintclaw, Urla tensed, ready to act if there was any danger. But instead of danger, she soon realized she could see a faint glow somewhere at the center of the room, green and fae-looking. Walking cautiously forward, the orcwoman soon caught sight of her master standing before a large, smooth globe of green-glowing crystal, from which spilled the light. Nearby, just barely within the circle of light cast by the crystal orb, was Threetails, the hood of her cloak pulled over her head, obscuring her face in shadows, as though she were desperate not to be recognized. As soon as Urla stepped into the circle of light herself, Malik motioned her to his side without turning to face her, and then placed a single hand on the globe.

"Don't be afraid, Threetails," said Malik with a dark, ominous chuckle that only seemed to worsen the obvious terror of the legendary kitsune witch. "I am already well acquainted with your recent actions, and your aid to the enemy. I came here to give you a chance at redeeming yourself, and found you preparing to flee. Despite this, however, I see that you left all in readiness for my use within your dwelling, and so I judge that you were not attempting to openly betray me, only serve your personal interests, and then escape before I could bring retribution upon you. You will certainly be punished for what you have done," and as he said this, Threetails whimpered softly, so that Urla actually felt a pang of pity for the kitsune, "but you are much more useful to me alive. So long as my mother agrees with my judgment, you will almost certainly be spared."

For a moment Urla was stunned at the thought that the almighty Overlord might have a mother, and moreso, one with whom he took counsel on matters like the disposition of traitors, but the moment passed quickly when Malik let out a slow breath, and then turned his full attention to the hovering crystal, placing both large, sharp-clawed gauntlets on the smooth, green-glowing surface.

It took all of Urla's resolve and composure to keep from more than shuffling slightly in a sudden flash of nervousness as, out in the seemingly limitless darkness surrounding them, a semicircle of similar glowing orbs appeared, each lighting the face and features of another being. Urla counted seven orbs, with seven figures illuminated by their respective orbs, though it was hard to make out their precise features, making them look like ghosts, seen through a glass darkly. She also noted that there was a gap near the left side of the semicircle, where it was obvious that an orb should have appeared, but had not.

"I am troubled," said Malik, addressing the assembled blurry figures before him. "It seems that the scion of Windsar has entered the chain of events." He motioned with his head toward the vacant spot in the semicircle. "Ralist has paid the price for her interference, and I fear she will follow the path that Charles Windsar was foretold to follow had he not been slain."

Malik's words carried a tone of inquiry, and the other members of the semicircle paused for a time to consider their answers. Suddenly, one of the figures, visible above a purple-tinted orb, came into sharp focus. Urla's eyebrows went up as she saw the beautiful features of a scantily-clad drow, her obsidian skin tinted in violet by the orb through which she was communicating. Despite the strangeness of the situation, the orcwoman couldn't help but admire the proud, full breasts of the drow woman, only barely contained by a spidersilk brassier that revealed much, much more than it concealed from view. She was obviously someone of importance, judging from the spiderstrewn diadem and other jewelry she wore, things that were intended only for the highest caste of priestesses among the dark elves.

"Currian was supposed to be providing backup to Ralist," said the drow matron, and Urla could tell from the tone of her voice that this silver-haired dark elf had to be quite old indeed, several centuries at the least, despite her youthful features. "I demand that that weak male explain himself."

A pale yellow-tinted orb on the far end of the semicircle, next to the vacant spot that presumably should have held Ralist, the ogre mage that had been running the show with Urla's older brother as warchief until their recent demise, flared to life, and Urla could see a disgustingly obese face made only barely-tolerable by the presence of a neatly-trimmed moustache that curled around the sides of the fat old gnome's face to merge with the sideburns of his thick, curly brown hair. The round face of the gnome was framed by a mustard-colored hood, and he appeared almost frantic as he leaned forward against the orb.

"They're on to me," said the fat-faced gnome, glancing over his shoulder at something unseen as great beads of nervous sweat coursed down his brow and cheeks, vanishing in his moustache. "My servants are taking what they can, and I'll have to leave myself very soon. I don't know how they found out about me, but they have, and the Arcane Inquisitors will be here any minute."

"Fool!" snapped the drow. "You knew the Council does not tolerate research into the lich transformation. You were too weak to control your lust for the immortality of undeath long enough to complete our plans." She motioned dismissively with one hand. "I move that we dismiss the Archmage from his position on our council: he is more a liability than an asset at this point, and our secrecy is only assured if we sever our ties with him now. Perhaps we will contact him later and bring him back into our number...if he can survive that long."

"Agreed," came the voices of the other figures as one, and Archmage Currian's own flabby face was frozen in an expression of horror, his jowls wobbling, for just a moment, before the orb beneath his face gave a loud crack! and sundered down the middle, instantly causing Currian's image to vanish from sight.

After a long moment of silence, as the assembled masterminds contemplated what had just taken place, the figure above a rose-tinted orb slowly coalesced into a more tangible figure. When Urla saw what it was that was using the orb, she gasped in fright: it was a dragon! It was obvious that the image being projected was from a great distance, just based on the perspective of the image, and so Urla knew that the great scaly beast must have been immense beyond anything she'd ever seen before. Once she got past the initial shock, however, Urla blinked in some surprise, quite suddenly not knowing what to think. The more she looked at the supple-scaled, sleek-bodied dragon, so sinuous and alluring in body and even face, quite unlike anything Urla had expected from a dragon, the more she found it almost impossible to look away. This was a creature that was obviously steeped in the taint of sin, but quite unlike the many tales that told of how such a taint gave a hideous aspect to the outer self, this wickedly seductive dragoness wore her sin like some women wore makeup, using its obvious presence to enhance her nearly overwhelming natural allure and potent charisma.

"I propose we replace Archmage Currian with Sardek," said the dragon in a voice that was obviously female, and so intensely alluring in its every syllable and nuance, Urla felt her knees growing weak from a sudden rush of forbidden desire. "I think the dear boy has more than earned his place in our ranks."

"Agreed," said the others in unison, some strange magical communication linking them more tightly than Urla could detect with her outward senses, letting them act in near-perfect concert with surprising ease. She glanced to the side, where another figure, this one above a deep indigo orb, came into sharp focus, revealing a thick-bodied, reptilian face with deep-sunk, dark eyes, somewhat like that of a purple-and-black monitor lizard.

"Which brings us back to Overlord Malik's original quandary," said the reptilian male in a smooth, slightly oily tone as he raised his hands, steepling his black-clawed fingers just below his chin, which sported a tangle of scaly, pale lavender tendrils that looked much like a goatee. "Will the Windsar girl threaten us just as Threetails foretold Charles Windsar would threaten us?" A long, forked purple tongue flicked out from between Sardek's scaly lips, and then slid back into his mouth. "If so, I can make preparations to deal with her as soon as she reaches Nemminus."

"There's more to this Windsar girl, though, than there was to Master Windsar," said another figure that coalesced above the deep, blood red orb, revealing her dark-skinned face, which was almost totally obscured by bone-white paint, done to cover her skin, making it look as though she were a skeleton rather than a creature of flesh and blood. "She is female, and that gives her hidden depths that we cannot predict easily. I do not see her fate clearly, but I do not think she should die."

"It was Threetails who first warned us of Master Windsar," said Malik, reaching out suddenly, seizing the trembling vixen's shoulder and thrusting her roughly forward, where she stumbled to her knees in the midst of the semicircle. "Threetails," Malik said in his commanding voice, "tell us what you have seen regarding the apprentice of Charles Windsar."

"You'd best do it, dear," said the dragoness with a kindly, but no less alluring, smile down at the cowering three-tailed kitsune, whose cloak had fallen somewhere outside the ring of orbs, leaving her body openly exposed in the sheer black gown she wore, her tails spilling out from the base of a long V-shaped slit in the back, those tails the only thing concealing the snug crack at the pinnacle of her shapely rump. "My dear son and I have been planning on breeding some fortune-telling heirs out of your womb for some time now. I would dearly hate for you to do something foolish like resist us at this point, or, worse yet, lie to us."

Her head slumping forward, Threetails gave a soft half-sob, and then nodded, before she began to speak in a voice that was calm and clear.

"I saw the fate of the apprentices of Charles Windsar when I saw his own fate," Threetails began with the calmness that comes from complete resignation to one's fate. "And I saw his fate when I first bedded him, many years ago. That was before I had been drawn into your thrall - I was still a free agent, and I think I almost loved Charles Windsar, as much as I have ever loved anyone." Heaving a great sigh, Threetails continued. "There was coming a great disturbance, a terrible calamity that would shake Therafim to its foundations, and there was very little that could stop it. Little, save one person. Charles Windsar was the one with the connections and the power to organize a proper resistance against the ones who would bring about this great calamity from the shadows, and put an end to all their designs." Then, despite herself, Threetails shuddered slightly, her expression touched with lines of sorrow. "Then Charles died, and the threads of fate grew tangled.

"Despite this momentary disorientation, however, I had also seen an alternative version of what might come. Charles...I mean, Master Windsar, had apprentices, and the threads of fate that had once been tied into his own life would fall instead to them should he perish."

"You knew this from the beginning," said the drow with a steel-eyed gaze, "and you didn't tell us?"

"Flayfire knew something of it," said Threetails, motioning toward the towering rose-tinted dragoness, who inclined her head with graceful acknowledgement. "Her foresight isn't as refined as my own, but she had some inklings of what would come."

"I decided not to share it," said the sleek, beautiful dragoness, meeting the glares of both drow and skull-faced amazon with a smile of tantalizing mildness, "or to extract the full vision from Threetails because I knew our little fools would reveal themselves soon enough, and we would still have plenty of time to act against them, before any of them realized their true potential roles in this grand drama. On the other hand, if we had struck against both Charles Windsar and his Circle of apprentices, not only would we have faced immensely greater danger, we would have alerted them all to their fated roles, ensuring that any survivors - and there would almost certainly have been survivors - would rise up and bring us all down with the power of foreknowledge."

Seemingly satisfied, the two hard-eyed women turned their attention back to Threetails. Threetails, for her part, remained where she had fallen, kneeling on the floor beneath the eyes of the assembled masterminds. Urla felt a pang of pity for the poor kitsune, even knowing that she was the legendary witch of the Great Green, the seducer and despoiler who had lured young men and women of all races to their doom for centuries. Now she was faced with powers greater than her own, and the once-mighty creature of legend was exposed before them all, powerless to resist their desires or their judgments.

"The Windsar scions are a less organized form of resistance than Master Charles Windsar would have been," continued Threetails as though she hadn't been interrupted, "on account of their youth and inexperience. It will take them longer to mount an effective resistance, during which time they are terribly vulnerable. But they have immense potential, and so this makes them a random element, every one of them a possible flaw that could crack open the entire plot to challenge the masterminds of the great calamity. The one called Sheru has the most potential of them all, and unless something hinders her, she is almost certain to become even more powerful than her fallen master. Perhaps even more importantly," and here Threetails nodded toward the skull-painted woman, who smirked smugly, "they are all female: young, healthy, and fertile. This means that they are not the only danger, the only tangled thread of fate clouding the calamity of the future in uncertainty, the calamity that you are working to engineer. Their children would also carry the seeds of destiny, but unlike the Windsar Circle, their children could be molded, shaped, and made to serve a great many possible destinies, depending on who possessed and raised them. This would lead them to become great figures, no matter how they were raised, with immense potential for good, or potential for evil. If they were claimed by the powers of light, even if this great calamity be successful, they may yet undo everything that is gained. But if they were claimed by the masterminds of the great calamity, they would ensure the power of those masterminds...forever."

"So we cannot risk killing the Windsar scions outright," said Malik with a slow nod of pronouncement. "They are far too useful, and who knows what might happen if we did succeed in finishing them: Threetails' prophecies would become useless."

"Better to hold to the evil we know," said Flayfire, leaning back in a fashion that was at once relaxed and calm, and also actively seductive, almost unintentionally so, like something that a skilled courtesan might do while reclining upon her couch. "I propose that we try to capture the girls of the Windsar Circle...and _breed_them." Her tongue flicked out as she said "breed," and Urla had to bite her lip to stifle a whimper at the raw intensity of the word, and all its heavy connotations.

Now, instead of answering in unison, all the eyes of the assembled masterminds turned to the final orb, the figure above it still indistinct, bathed in a cold silver light. Unlike the others, this image did not grow more clear, the speaker remaining obscured from view.

"This is wise," said the indistinct figure, in a voice that was just as indistinct as to its specific tones, so that Urla knew she'd never recognize the speaker if they met in person. "If we are to have Malik ascend to challenge the gods themselves, to ensure our own places in immortality, then we need to take control of these stray threads of fate. I approve of Flayfire's proposal. Sardek will make his preparations, and take all steps that he sees fit to ensure the capture and appropriate domination of the most potent threat, Sheru Windsar: we do not want a spirited girl who might defy us, but rather a broken slave, willing and tractable. If she is impregnated during the process of her capture and breaking, so be it, but I would prefer her to be bred in a more...controlled setting, if possible."

"Eagerly done," said the oily-voiced reptile with a smile that made Urla's skin crawl. "I will coordinate with Overlord Malik's minions to ensure the deed is done properly. And as you wish, I shall try to arrange for her eggs to be fertilized by an appropriate sire, though I do not make promises. After all, much can happen in such an operation."

"And speaking of Overlord Malik Malleus," continued the cold voice in the cold silver light, "he will lead the siege of the Windsar Spire and its surrounding grounds. Make the capture and defiling of the other Windsar scions your top priority."

"I will gather my forces, and call upon my mother's ample aid," answered Malik without hesitation, motioning respectfully with his head toward the rose-scaled dragoness, who giggled almost like a schoolgirl, and made a good impression of a curtsey in response. "It will take at least a fortnight to properly prepare for this assault, however: the Windsar Spire, even without its master, has potent magical defenses, and even as inexperienced as they are, Windsar's apprentices were nevertheless trained by the very best, and will be no easy conquests."

"Take all the time and make all the preparations that you need," said the cold voice. "So long as you are successful in capturing the Windsar Spire and all its inhabitants, that will suffice. As for you, Amala Redspear," the skull-painted woman smirked at the mention of her name, "and you, Matron Thavi Baentarn, I shall have other tasks for you, which I will communicate privately. In the meantime, each of your should cast around, and seek for a replacement for Ralist. The ogre mage was an able commander of troops, adept at inspiring fear and loyalty and a semblance of discipline even in an unruly orcish mob; his role will be a hard one to fill." The cold silver light suddenly flickered more violently. "We all know our current missions, or soon will. We shall meet again soon, at a time of my choosing, to report on what we have accomplished. Be ready."

With that, the silver orb and its attendant light winked out of existence. The other orbs followed suit, one-by-one, until only the rose-colored dragoness and Malik remained.

"You normally are so very astute, my dearest son," said the gorgeous dragoness, rolling over onto her belly and resting her dainty chin on her long-fingered, manicured-nailed talons. "Still, Threetails is quite a wily old vixen, and she's had centuries longer than you to hone her arts of deception and cunning. It's a pity that the real Threetails has already escaped."

The three-tailed vixen still kneeling on the floor started at Flayfire's revelation, and even Malik seemed taken aback.

"There's no shame in being fooled by someone as skilled as Threetails," continued Flayfire soothingly. "Still, even if she was speaking to us through a simulacrum, she didn't dare to lie to us: we'd have known it at once, and her cover would have been blown. It might just be a puppet, but it's a truthful little puppet." She reached down, her glowing, translucent clawtips lightly teasing the underside of the faux-Threetails' white-furred chin. "A cute one as well. Keep your consciousness inside that little puppet of yours a while longer, my dear kitsune: I trained my son personally in all the arts of lovemaking, and I promise you'll enjoy what he does to you through your sexy little proxy." Flayfire giggled again as she drew back, her image starting to waver. "It's a pity a simulacrum can't get pregnant, but we'll see about amending that when we come hunting for you...later. In the meantime, I'll be there soon, dear son, to help arrange the teleportation and organization of your army. Have fun with your greenskinned friend and little vixen plaything in the meantime."

With that, the rose-scaled dragoness winked from sight, leaving the room in darkness.

It took a moment before Urla's orcsight adjusted to the sudden loss of light, allowing her to being seeing once more, albeit without the benefit of color. Just as she was starting to look around the seemingly featureless inner expanse of Threetails' hut, however, she felt the strong grip of her master, the Overlord, on her arm, guiding her with astonishing gentleness through that seemingly endless place of darkness, until she saw his gauntleted hand reach out and push open a door she didn't realize was there until it opened. Blinking once more as they stepped out into the bright light of evening, one of the rare moments of such strong lighting in this clearing in the Great Green just before the sun slipped out of sight once more behind the thick canopy, shrouding everything in the nearly endless twilight of the massive temperate rainforest, Urla looked back at Malik as he followed her out, dragging the whimpering, cowering three-tailed kitsune behind him. With a light snort, he seized the front of her sheer black dress and bent slightly, easily tearing it from her body, leaving the slim, beautiful vixen utterly naked before them. Threetails moved her long-fingered, black-furred hands to cover her nudity even as she fell once more to her knees, almost on the verge of tears as she looked up at her captors pleadingly, her despair growing with every passing moment as she saw only lust in their merciless eyes.

Malik reached up to his helmet, then, slipping beneath his neck rondel to carefully unlock the cunningly-made metal plates that held his neckpiece in place. Breathing out slowly, the Overlord bent his head forward, and lifted the helmet off, breathing fresh air in through his nostrils once his head was clear of the dragon's head helm. Urla and Threetails both stared at the bestial face of the Overlord as it was finally revealed to them, savage and feral, and yet hauntingly handsome. Urla noted with some light amusement that she seemed to have a knack for attracting especially attractive male canid beastfolk, for that was what Malik was: he had the very appearance of an anthropomorphic hellhound, glowing runes of strange design marking his forehead and one cheek.

"Attend me, Warchief," Malik said commandingly, holding out his arms, and Urla immediately stepped forward, reaching for the straps. Her enthusiasm to serve her master, though, quickly proved to be greater than her ability, and in a matter of moments she stopped, looking down in embarrassment as her cheeks flushed a darker shade of green; she'd never had to deal with armor like this before, so intricate and so finely-made, as the most any orcish warrior ever wore was a simple breastplate, or perhaps some ragged chainmail or piecemeal halfplate if it could be looted from an enemy. The Overlord, however, didn't seem bothered by this momentary delay, and instead began to guide Urla through the process of taking off his armor, buckle by strap by hinge telling her everything she needed to know in just enough detail for her to manage, and then patiently waiting as she undid each fastener in turn, starting up at his shoulders, lifting off his breastplate and arm pieces, and working her way slowly to his boots, kneeling as she carefully opened up the inner sides of his greaves, fingertips teasing over his muscular thighs, before tugging gently on the metal codpiece at the top of the leg armor, letting her master simply step out of these final protections.

Without his flame-darkened armor, Malik was still an impressive and most intimidating sight. His red eyes burned with a powerful inner radiance like the molten interior of a volcano, his pupils bright yellow sparks as the light of his eyes cast his sharp-featured face into stark contrast, bringing out every detail in hellish relief. Clothed in soft, dark leather and velvet beneath his armor, his body was still clearly visible, as the clothes were nicely filled out by his impressive musculature. Still kneeling, looking up at her new master, Urla noticed more glowing runes in red and purple and yellow shining dimly through his clothing on his chest, his arms, his legs, and, as she realized as she looked down, his groin as well.

"We will set up camp here, Urla," said Malik, reaching down to stroke a hand through her coarse tendrils of hair, before he gently rested a hand on her shoulder and helped her to her feet once more. "There is nothing in these woods that would dare to enter this place, so we should be quite safe from intrusion, or from interruption."

"What about her?" asked Urla, motioning toward the still-kneeling, sniffling vixen who looked at them fearfully, still trying her best to cover her lovely, white-furred underbelly from their view with her small hands.

The Overlord smiled wickedly at this question, and walked toward the cowering vixen, showing her his teeth as he drew near, before seizing her headfur, making her cry out in pain as he lifted her slightly, her hands forced to leave her body so as to grab hold of her headfur, to keep it from being torn out. Urla couldn't help but admire the perfect, white-furred breasts of the kitsune, and wonder to herself how those pink, perked nipples of hers would taste, or the delicate cleft between her snowy inner thighs, standing out in such contrast to the red of the rest of her fur.

"You'll do as my mother told you, won't you, Threetails?" said Malik, not really asking a question, so that Threetails' submissive nod was hardly even necessary. "And why is that?"

Threetails glanced at Urla before she spoke, and Urla realized that Malik had asked the question for her benefit rather than his own. He already knew that Threetails wouldn't try to escape, or abandon the...simulacrum, she remembered it was called, a magical flesh puppet she'd made to try and fool Malik into thinking she was really here in more than mind, or so Urla guessed from what she'd heard so far.

"If I abandoned this body," said the vixen, squeezing her eyes shut, "Flayfire would make it a top priority to hunt me down as soon as she arrived, whatever your faceless master might have wanted her to do instead. The Rose Dragon is one of the oldest living creatures still active on the face of Therafim, and one of the most cunning; even if I dared to defy the Overlord himself, I'd never dare to defy her. Flayfire is one of the only creatures on Therafim that I fear."

"What our dear little captive will do instead," said Malik, releasing his grip on her headfur and turning back to Urla, "is remain here, and endure whatever we do with her. She will be our entertainment tonight, after we get the camp made up." He glanced back at the kneeling vixen, who swallowed nervously. "That body she's wearing feels just like she would if she were actually here. In fact, the only way her spirit can leave it is if it's killed, that's how tightly she's bound to it. She was probably planning on committing 'suicide' later, or starting some sort of struggle where she'd be sure to 'die,' making me think that I'd lost her for good. What would really happen is that her spirit would pop back into its real body, wherever she's hidden it, and she'd make good her escape." Then the Overlord smiled, and both Urla and Threetails shivered at the sight, at once terrifying and nearly overwhelmingly sexy. "Get the bedrolls out, Urla, while I start a fire; we're going to have a very pleasant time tonight indeed. And you," he finished, pointing at Threetails, who stared at the Overlord, frozen like a deer in the lantern of an oncoming coach, "don't move: we'll both be wanting you shortly."

*

It was fortunate that Una had been standing next to Ballia when the massive beast of living metal had leaped out onto Tia, or else the moment might have ended less comically than it did. As it was, Sheru was trying to remember the right words to draw on the magic of the Staff when the creature began licking Tia's face with a broad tongue of flexible - and quite moist - metal.

"Ugh, get off, you big idiot," grumped Tia, pushing at the creature. "That raspy tongue of yours is enough to take the skin off my cheek."

Likely to show that it was doing so of its own choice, rather than because it was obeying Tia, the sleek metal creature, whose body was rather feline in overall conformation, despite its long, lizardlike tail and thick, slightly rounded head somewhere between that of a dragon and a killer whale, slowly got off of her, and then turned, pressing its head toward Sheru, the four small orifices near the top of its head pulsing as they apparently took in her scent.

"That's Scratches," said Tia sourly as she picked herself up and dusted her backside off. "He's Yvette's companion, a steel predator. I thought he'd have gone back to his homeworld by now, knowing how that gnome goes through her friends, but it looks like he's decided to put up with Yvette for a while longer. Oh, and make sure he can see you when you speak to him: he can understand the Common speech, but he's deaf as a post. Thankfully it's not that hard, with all these eyes," Tia finished, waving a hand near the three dark eyes on the side of the beast facing her, the other three facing Sheru before she turned and walked into the mansion. "C'mon, let's make ourselves at home until Yvette shows up. Knowing her, she won't mind at all, and if she does, Scratches'll let us know."

The big beast turned with a swift, fluid grace that was as terrifying as it was beautiful, and headed off Tia, before leading the way into the house, followed soon after by the others, save for Sheru, who lingered outside a while longer, looking up at the place. Luna also lingered for a little while when she saw that Sheru wasn't going inside, smiling at Flintclaw and patting the strong red-furred wolfen on his bottom to encourage him to go on ahead before she went to her friend.

"Is something wrong, Sheru?" she asked in concern. "Why don't you come in with the rest of us?"

"I guess I'm getting a little cautious these days," answered Sheru with a sheepish grin. "I don't want to be taken by surprise around here, even though it feels safe so far. That, and there's something about Tia's relationship with Yvette that she's not sharing. I was just hoping to maybe explore a little, and see if I could find this Yvette Brightstar myself, and maybe talk with her a bit if it's possible."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Luna immediately asked, ready to back up her friend in a heartbeat, though Sheru noticed her friend's brief, longing look into the house, where both Flintclaw and the promise of actual civilized comfort waited.

"No, I don't really think there's any danger," answered Sheru with a warm smile, giving her friend a hug. "Really, I just want to explore around here on my own, get a feel for the place before we have to stay here a while. I don't want to worry the others with nothing. You hurry after Flintclaw and make sure he doesn't start anything with Scratches."

Both girls giggled at the mental picture that conjured up, of the big red wolfen riding the steel predator like a bucking horse, and then Luna nodded.

"All right. But you call out if you need anything, Sheru. We're just inside the mansion if you need us."

After watching her friend follow after the others, shutting the doors of the mansion behind her, Sheru turned and started to walk a brisk circuit of the large building. Since she could see tenants of the estate finishing work in their fields not too terribly far off (though none of them got within a half-mile of the estate itself, she noted with some nervous puzzlement), Sheru decided that if there was any danger here, it couldn't be that terrible, or else these simple folk would surely leave the area entirely, that being the sensible course of action for anyone dealing with an area where life and limb were threatened. It was only adventurers like herself (and she had to admit that, considering all that she'd done recently, she must be an adventurer, like it or not) that went headlong into peril. She'd been fairly honest with Luna about her reasons for wanting to explore, though not completely so for her reasons for wanting to be alone while she did it. Of course she didn't want to trouble the rest of her companions, but there were two other, extra important reasons for Sheru's solitude. The first was that she thought better when she was alone. The second was that she was genuinely concerned about what might happen if she ended up alone with Flintclaw somehow. Stroking her smooth belly absently through her blue-and-white robes, Sheru decided that she wasn't ready to end up on the business end of the virile wolfen's puppymaker. He was just so...aggressive, and Sheru was really trying to save her virginity - her real virginity - for someone that she cared about, someone special who'd treat her right. To someone like Flintclaw, she'd be just another conquest, a prize to be enjoyed and then shared with the rest of his pack. Sheru was sure that she was simplifying it, of course, and somehow felt that Flintclaw did have deeper feelings for Luna and Tia and the others. Despite this, though, they were still his, and Sheru didn't feel ready to allow herself to become property just yet, if ever. She certainly wasn't ready to end up popping out puppies.

It was with these thoughts in her head that Sheru heard the sound of voices coming from a rather large stable and carriage house near the back of the mansion, found by following the road, where carriages and horses would surely go after they'd delivered their passengers to the front door. Lifting her skirts slightly with one hand, holding her staff up with the other with the greatest care, Sheru did her best to sneak up on the barn, slipping quietly inside, keeping to the walls and staying behind the many bales of high that were piled up high, using her small stature and natural agility to their best advantage.

There, before Sheru's eyes as she settled into a good hiding spot just inside a stall apparently intended for cows or some other animal that couldn't jump terribly high, peering out through the slats on the front of the stall, Sheru saw who it was that was talking...and immediately her face flushed, her eyes growing wide as she found herself, as before at the cave, utterly unable to look away. Kneeling there in a large washtub, exposed in all his unconcealed natural glory, was the single most beautiful male that Sheru had ever seen: a tall, handsome equitra stallion. His body glistened like pure burnished gold, and everything seemed to slow down for Sheru as he tossed his flowing, radiant mane, little crystal droplets of water flying off as he rose from rinsing himself off in the water, before it settled like a shimmering white-gold waterfall around his broad shoulders. Watching him at an angle from behind, the young wizardess couldn't help but breathlessly admire the clearly visible muscles of the male's back, his sides and ribs, his hips, and his perfect, almost femininely rounded flanks, clearly visible to Sheru's eyes as he shook his gorgeous, flowing tail like he'd done his mane, letting the almost liquid length of hair drape over the edge of the washtub to dry. Despite his beauty, however, it was a distinctly masculine beauty, the sort of body that almost demanded that it be touched, even while you wanted desperately to admire it from afar, and as he opened his sweet, crystal blue eyes, Sheru was held rapt at the sight of him, hardly daring to breathe lest she disturb that single perfect moment.

"It's awfully kind of you to let me get some trail dust off, Miss Brightstar," said the sleek-muscled stallion in a pleasant deep tenor voice that fit him perfectly, making Sheru's whole body feel as though it would just melt...before she realized who it was that the stallion was addressing. Instantly her eyes sought out and found movement on the other side of the golden-furred male. "Though I didn't think I was that dirty down there."

"It was my pleasure, Sam," replied the little gnome, stepping out from where her small body had been hidden behind the beautiful immensity of the stallion. "And I assure you, you were very dirty down here. But don't worry - I got you all clean."

Now that Yvette (for who else could it be?) was revealed, Sheru couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of the cute little golden-haired gnome - and her short, pageboy-style hair was really golden, shimmering and metallic, signaling that she probably had draconic ancestry somewhere in her past, not that unlikely considering she was nobility, after all. Sheru was quite short as well as petite, but even she stood head and shoulders taller than the tiny gnome. Despite her small, even childlike stature, however, Yvette was perfectly proportioned for a young adult of about Tia's age, her height the only thing really childish about her. Despite herself, Sheru found herself admiring the other girl's plump handfuls of breasts, and cute, bouncy bubble bottom as Yvette circled Sam, holding a large currycomb in one hand. With her other hand, she reached out and slipped her fingers between the gorgeous male's legs, caressing the heavy, ever-so-slightly wrinkled orbs that dangled down like golden goose eggs.

"Especially here," added Yvette with a naughty smile on her cute, impish face as she looked up at the stallion, who looked down at her with wide eyes, his expression rather startled. It made him look vulnerable, and that just made Sheru's heart ache for the beautiful male even more. "Now, let's do some gentle stroking, just to keep everything nice and healthy. Climb out and kneel down for me, please, so I can reach all of you; over here, on the towel."

Lifting his sculpted legs one at a time, revealing that his legs and feet were quite humanlike, rather than having hooves and backward-bending legs like a true horse, the stallion-man stepped fully from the tub of water, the last drops flowing in rivulets down his thighs and ankles, and falling in great, fat drops from the tip of the smooth, humanlike penis between his legs, which was a slightly darker, more bronze color compared to the gold of the rest of his buffed body. Though Sheru only glimpsed this briefly, she got enough of a look to realize why she'd heard some of the guards in caravans that Master Charles had allowed to stay at his tower overnight call the lengths of smooth, casing-covered sandwich-meat sausage they often ate "horsecock." Just the way the stallion walked was mesmerizing, smooth and well-filled sac and even smoother and so-very-shapely rump moving in ways that were hypnotic, and Sheru quietly settled down onto her knees on a bed of soft straw, sensing almost instinctively that more than just grooming was going to happen here, and slowly slid the skirt of her robe up over her knees, where her white leather riding boots stopped.

Kneeling on the towel where Yvette had indicated, Sam watched the golden-haired gnome with such a trusting expression, Sheru felt her heart go out to him, his perfect masculine beauty so sweet and pure that it made her feel almost physical pain just to look at him in all his unclothed glory. He just looked so natural, so right, without any clothes, that Sheru couldn't even imagine the gorgeous male ever wearing them; it just seemed wrong, somehow, to cover up a body like his. Yvette slowly pulled over a stool, and Sheru's eyes strayed over to the pretty gnome, noticing how her nipples were a dark cherry red, each aureole quite swollen, while the nipples themselves were perked and a slightly lighter color than the aureoles, with flat-headed tips, rather than points like her own strawberry pink nipples, or Luna's dark tan ones. Unbidden, Sheru idly wondered what gnome nipples tasted like before she caught herself short, and chided herself most sternly on such impure thoughts. She was simply waiting for Yvette to finish taking care of her guest, that was all, or so she told herself. Then she'd approach the gnome girl after she'd made herself (and her guest, Sheru added with a slight sigh of disappointment at the thought) presentable and decent once more, explain things, and see if she could get permission to stay the night, as well as the information she needed on the runes she discovered in the ogre mage's sacrificial chamber.

Standing on the stool, Yvette positioned herself directly in front of the tall, handsome equid, her plump, perfectly-proportioned breasts dangling just a matter of fingerspans from his crystal blue eyes. Despite those tantalizing mounds of lovely girlflesh dangling so very close to him, however, Sam held as still as if he was made of real gold, instead of gold-sheened fur and firm, sculpted flesh. His gaze, however, never left the perked nipples of the gnome. Sheru's eyes, on the other hand, wavered frequently, as though they wanted to devour the entire scene before them, and simply couldn't settle on any single image. As Yvette gently, tenderly stroked Sam's golden mane with the comb, smoothing it out with the deft care that only the tiny hands of a gnome could manage, the same manual dexterity that made them such skilled artificers, Sheru's eyes traced the clearly-defined lines of Sam's back, each muscle standing out in perfect definition, and then down to his gorgeous bottom, exposed in tantalizing glimpses, as was his heavy sac, so full of promised potential, with each light, relaxed flick of his long tail. Daring to move slightly for a better view, Sheru's wide green eyes then fixed on the free-hanging penis of the stallion, which, before her gaze, slowly began to swell, filling out with almost casually rising arousal as Yvette's comb stroked its way down Sam's neck and shoulders.

As the golden-haired gnome pressed one hand on Sam's recently-brushed shoulder, coaxing him to rise to his knees, letting his arms hang loosely by his sides, Yvette's own eyes widened as she looked down at the equitra stallion's perfect penis, thrust out prominently and oh-so-invitingly from his smooth-lined hips.

"Oh my," Yvette gasped, reaching out with one hand...before she rested it on Sam's stomach. "You certainly have a lot of tension built up in your muscles, Sam, dear," she continued, smirking so very teasingly as the hand with the comb pressed against the stallion's chest and began to stroke through the fur until it shone. "But don't you worry - I'll have all your kinks worked out soon enough."

As the currycomb slowly worked its way down Sam's body, the stallion began to tremble ever-so-slightly, his breathing coming steadily faster as the coarse bristles rasped through his fur and against the firm flesh beneath, leaving his body almost glowing with vital health at its passing. The stallion's whole body seemed ready to explode with tension as Yvette stroked the comb down his belly, getting ever-so-close to his full, turgid member, and yet never quite touching it. Then, just when it seemed that the gnome simply had to pay attention to the male's obvious need...she circled around behind him, pulling her stool with her, and instead started to stroke her way down his back.

"Poor thing," cooed Yvette as she worked the comb and then her hands into the small of Sam's back, before she gripped the base of his tail, the lightest tug making Sam's neck and back arch, his breath to intake sharply, loudly enough for Sheru to hear from her hiding place. "You really needed a good grooming, didn't you?"

"Y-yes," Sam said, his eyes closing as Yvette smoothed out all the little tangles of the stallion's long tail, her small hands and the comb brushing against his bared rump at the apex of each long stroke. Every one of those little contacts seemed to drive the seemingly docile male just a little bit closer to the edge of his endurance, to the brink of his will.

"I'm so glad I could help you, then," Yvette continued in that same sweetly innocent voice, even as she started to rub the comb over Sam's rump, making the muscles beneath tense, which in-turn caused his hips to arch forward, thrusting the heavy weight of his immense bronze staff outward at a right angle from his body. "I would _so_hate to leave you in such a state, without any relief from...huh? Eep!"

"I can't take it anymore!" squealed a high-pitched voice seemingly from nowhere, and an instant later, Sam gave a startled grunt, before he jerked backward quite suddenly. This was enough to send him falling back into a seated position, his firm buns very nearly squashing Yvette flat if she hadn't been quick enough to slip to one side, just in the nick of time.

As Yvette and Sheru watched with wide eyes, Sam gave another deep grunt, his hips arching once more as he sat there on the towel, his immense horsecock twitching and pulsing with a state of arousal that was rapidly going completely out of control. As she leaned a little closer, Sheru gasped softly as she noticed how the sides of Sam's penis were actually depressing slightly, as though some unseen force were squeezing down on his firm flesh, and, judging from the movements of that depression, stroking him quite rapidly. In a flash, Yvette pointed at Sam's penis and said a single firm word of Power, and instantly a tiny green-haired feminine figure with gossamer wings materialized before them, her arms eagerly wrapped around Sam's throbbing cock as she gyrated her body against the proud length, her pretty little face rubbing against the humanlike flared head, while her dainty little feet rested lightly on his full sac, often rising to tip-toes as she pumped her arms up and down with abandon.

"A pixie," said Yvette with a wry smirk. "Naughty thing - you're spoiling my fun!"

"I...couldn't...hold...back," whimpered the beautiful little fey as she continued to eagerly rub her pearl-smooth body against the stallion's shaft, before eagerly licking up the copious drops of precum that started to bead on the very tip of Sam's glans. "It was just...so...hot..."

His hands seizing firm hold of the towel beneath him, Sam's hips bucked upward, his jaw tense, his teeth clenched as his lips curled back, gorgeous blue eyes squeezing shut with each eager gyration of the little pixie's body against his engorged flesh. He was the very picture of aroused tension, and neither Sheru nor Yvette could bring themselves to do anything but stare in rapt fascination for several long minutes - a small eternity! - as the beautiful stallion was pleasured by the tiny woman. Then, with a loud gasp of release, Sam's rump left the towel, his hips arching into the air, his penis pointing straight up as he came like a geyser. The sight was certainly as impressive as any natural eruption could be, and both human and gnome girls were breathing heavily, their cheeks deeply flushed, as the copious load of Sam's semen gushed out, painting the floor in front of him almost to the far wall of the barn's interior. Fortunately, the pixie's weight had angled Sam's penis slightly downward just at the moment of his orgasm, or else both his chest and belly and chin and Yvette's face and breasts would almost certainly have been rather thoroughly coated in a layer of potent stallioncum. As it was, the pixie only allowed this eruption to continue for a split-second longer, before she eagerly clamped her little mouth over Sam's urethra, and began to gulp down every additional drop with delighted enthusiasm. Sheru blinked in astonishment as the tiny creature's tummy started to swell, until soon she looked far too bloated to even have a chance of flying.

Finally, as Sam's orgasm subsided, and the pixie's greediness for cum was sated, the tiny winged creature seated her rather plump self down on Sam's balls, letting her gently and affectionately pat his penis as it slowly deflated by her elbow.

"Mmm, that was great," said the pixie in her cute, high-pitched little voice. "I'm lucky I showed up just in time for that. Oh!" Then her long, pointed ears perked upward visibly. "But I don't have time for much more than a meal, I'm afraid. There's something terrible happening to the south!"

"Slow down, silly thing," said Yvette, patting Sam's sculpted belly and chest as he lay there on his back, breathing heavily, obviously very thoroughly spent as well as thoroughly satisfied. "First, start with your name, and then continue with what brings you here."

"I'm Petalbloom Peasblossom," the purple-haired little woman replied, visibly forcing herself to slow down and be more clear. Sheru noticed that her swollen tummy was already starting to shrink - the fey must have an absolutely fantastic metabolism! "I'm here because I've been following Miss Sheru Windsar over there for a while now, invisibly, of course. And now I've got very important news for her and her friends, and it really can't wait."

As Yvette's gaze turned to follow Petalbloom's pointing finger, Sheru flushed deeply in embarrassment, but saw no further point in hiding, so she stood up.

"I'm sorry for snooping..." she said in a tiny voice, obviously embarrassed beyond measure, but Yvette just giggled.

"I'd probably have done the same thing," the golden-haired gnome responded, bending over to pick up a beautiful night-black robe lying folded on a nearby bale of hay, leading Sheru's eyes to go almost immediately to the adorably perky bottom of the other girl. Her green eyes then shifted to the sides, glancing at Sam and Petalbloom to see if they'd noticed her looking...only to find that they were staring at Yvette's bottom as well, except they weren't ashamed of being caught, as became obvious when Yvette turned around, with only Sheru's eyes doing their best to stay focused on her face. "We'll do the full introductions later, though I'd guess you're one of Charles Windsar's apprentices; he's quite famous among the wizards of Nemminus, you know." When Sheru nodded in response to this, Yvette smiled. "It would be an honor, of course, to help you however I can. But first," she turned back to Petalbloom even as she slipped her arms into her robe and cinched its belt around her waist, "why don't you share the news you had for my guest?"

"It's horrible!" the tiny pixie exclaimed, her green hair changing to purple in her excited state. "It's about Windsar Tower - the Overlord of Darkland is planning to assault it! It's taking him a while to get his troops together and all of that, but he's definitely getting ready, and it's only a matter of time before he has a full army to invade the region!"

Sheru gasped at this horrific revelation, her hand going to her mouth.

"Oh no," she said softly, worry obvious on her pretty face. "This...this is terrible!"

"No, it's horrible," Petalbloom corrected the young wizardess. "I said that already."

"Terrible, horrible, whichever," Yvette cut in, walking forward to take firm hold of Sheru's arm. "Come along and let's get inside. We can get all the details and figure out what to do next around a proper table with some proper maps and things."

As Petalbloom flitted after them, her tummy now as smooth and flat as before, the two mages walked from the barn, Sam's crystal blue eyes following them with an arched eyebrow.

"I'll just catch up with you, then," he said in his normal casual drawl, smirking a little, obviously not expecting any of the three females to really pay attention as he carefully rose and dusted himself off, before reaching for his denim overalls hanging nearby. While it was nice to be the center of attention, especially attention from such lovely, smooth-skinned fillies, there were more important things going on right then.

Bonus Content

For those interested in such things, here is the present party lineup as of this chapter, along with their races, classes, and levels, all according to either Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 Edition or Pathfinder, depending on what I felt like using at the time (Pathfinder takes precedence, though). For racial statistics on beastfolk, such as wolfen and equitra, and also for more information on the gods mentioned, like Fenrath and Velos, see the Therafim website linked at the top of the document. Also, the god-blooded of Fenrath template is shown below, to give people an idea of what Flintclaw Firewind can do outside of his normal character abilities. Finally, Sheru's gift from Master Charles Windsar is listed here, the Bracelet of the Second Wind, which I decided she needed just in case the dice rolls went terribly, terribly wrong.

It is only a matter of time before most of these classes are changed, on account of the gradual shift to Pathfinder statistics. Still, this party lineup should give readers a decent idea of what is to be expected from the characters.

Party Lineup:

Sheru Windsar, level 6 human (elf/nymph ancestry) wizard.

Flintclaw Firewind: level 6 (ECL 7 Fenrath-blooded) wolfen barbarian.

Harvas: level 6 wolfen fighter.

Torrin: level 6 wolfen scout.

Tia Fairbank: level 5 human warblade.

Luna Fairbank: level 2/3 (level 5 total) human fighter/rogue.

Ballia Narma: level 4/1 (level 5 total) wood elven ranger/druid.

Harrin Goldwit: level 5 citadel dwarf psychic warrior.

Eärlindë Nénharma: level 6 high elf cleric of Velos the Great Stag.

Fieryat and Ambrae (the twins have the same stats): level 3/3 (level 6 total) moon elf fighters/rangers.

Petalbloom Peasblossom: level 2/1 (Equivalent Character Level 7) pixie rogue/sorcerer (fey heritage, of course).

Sam Dray, level 3/3 fighter/cleric of the Morrigan

Bracelet of the Second Wind

Aura: Moderate Conjuration. Caster Level: 9th.

This beautifully-crafted gold chain bracelet has nine golden beads, three large ones with two smaller ones between each large bead. Every time the wearer is about to suffer injury, from any source except those listed below that would put her at negative health or kill her outright, the bracelet automatically activates to negate the effects of that single attack. Each time the bracelet functions in this fashion, one of the large golden beads cracks, so that it is only able to function three times in total. The bracelet takes up a wrist slot, only functions for good-aligned wearers, and does not work on effects that take place over time, such as bleeding, disease, or poison, but only on effects that deal direct damage, either to hit points or ability scores, and which are potentially lethal in nature (so nonlethal damage also does not trigger the bracelet).

Requirements: Craft Wondrous Item; Raise Dead; creator must be good. Cost: 2,025 gp

God-Blooded of Fenrath

Challenge Rating and Level Adjustment: +1

Divine Endurance: A god-blooded of Fenrath can activate or deactivate damage resistance 10/- as a free action. This DR can absorb up to 40 points of damage before it ceases to function. Once this happens, then the character loses the god-blooded template.

Howl of the Pack: Once per day as a standard action, a god-blooded of Fenrath can howl loudly. All allies and the god-blooded then gain a +4 to attack and damage rolls for one round per hit die of the god-blooded.

Fenrath's Hunger: Filled with otherworldly ferocity, once per day a god-blooded of Fenrath can use a bite attack, in addition to all other attacks that the character might make, at the character's maximum attack roll. This attack deals 1d6 damage, plus the character's full strength bonus, plus the character's total hit dice, and then restores an equal amount of hit points to the god-blooded as the character rips off and devours a hunk of flesh. This power only works on creatures that have corporeal bodies and which can be affected by critical hits.

A scion of Fenrath, one who shares blood with the god himself, is able to automatically replenish the god-blooded state once per month if it should be lost, or some of its protection be expended, on a night of the full moon. This requires the god-blooded of Fenrath to be in full sight of the moon, to be in a wilderness area away from civilization, and to howl at the moon for a full hour. The next morning, if these requirements have been met, the god-blooded of Fenris will receive the powers of the template once more.