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#2381 Rhuen

Rhuen

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Posted 22 February 2014 - 02:05 PM

story time:

 

Eldritch Quest part.09

 

 

 

Timeless Gate:

    Deep in the emerald forest, where winter never reaches and the high heat of summer is but a rumor, there the Timeless Gate is found. Beyond the lake of the spectral dragon, beyond the nameless graveyard home to the venomous undead; there in a great circular meadow surrounded by the glowing flowers stands the Timeless Gate, not unlike a tombstone for some forgotten deity of the ancient world. Along the edges of the door frame are nine slots, each a clear place for one of the gems. Dorkaring places the gems and stands back as the door slides open. The stone double doors slide sideways in an impossible manner, vanishing into the frame, a light within briefly blinding Dorkaring. Beyond the Timeless Gate he can see another meadow, and a hill in the distance. He steps around the gate, there is no hill, and the gate is but a stone slab on its back. Yet there is no indication of a portal, or a descend, it is if he is looking through a clear archway and nothing more.

 

   Dorkaring steps through, sword drawn prepared for anything. He thought at least the gate would close behind him; yet it remains open. Like a mirage something appears at the top of the hill; a table, on either side of which sits two women. On his right side is a petite woman in a strange orange witch costume with cat ears and a tail; a woman he saw before, Xin. On his left side is a woman he’s never seen before, a bosom woman in a flowing green dress with living flowers growing along the hem, and long green hair. Both women drink their tea and chat in the language of birds.

 

   Dorkaring stands before them, “Stand and fight demon!” he demands.

 

  “She is no demon,” says the green haired woman, “she is my pet,”

 

  With that Xin transforms into a small grey cat and leaps into the woman’s lap.

 

 

  Dorkaring turns his blade to her, “who are you, some foul witch as well?”

 

  “Brave hero, I am Misaline, the goddess forgotten in this day. By being here you have passed my tests and proven yourself worthy of holding the great sword Exgladius to save this unfortunate world.”

 

   “Tests?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “Yes,” says Misaline, “you and I have met before, however you wouldn’t know it. I have appeared before you many times along your journey in many forms. I guided you to the location of each of the gems, towards those adventures proving your skill, wisdom, and valor.”

 

   “A test…” says Dorkaring drooping his sword slightly thanks to his confusion.

 

  “To prove you are worthy to save the world.”

 

  He sheaths his blade, “but of course, I am the mighty Dorkaring, ha haa haaa haaaa! So Tavaris spoke the truth, Xin was not evil, but he said that other woman wanted something really evil.”

 

   “Indeed,” says Misaline projecting an image above her, “the scroll of the unspeakable one. She is a dark goddess who wishes to awaken an ancient evil sealed beyond the Gate of Goldra, the golden dragon who sealed the unspeakable one in the mountain of Goldra long ago before mankind was born upon this world.”

 

   Dorkaring crosses his arms and nods with a wide smile, “yep, and Dorkaring the hero is the only one that can stop it.”

 

   “Indeed,” says Misaline, “to do so, now that you have proven yourself with the nine gems, you have the power granted upon you the gems to wield Exgladius.”

 

  Dorkaring looks around, “okay, where is it? Gimme the sword and I’ll go slay your evil goddess and her pet…unspeakable thing…”

 

   “The sword,” says Misaline, “is held by the maiden of the Crystal Lake, you must go there, the spirit of the nine gems is within you now, this will be the proof of royalty she needs to grant you the sword.”

 

   “What?” says Dorkaring, “but didn’t you say I proved myself, and here and…”

 

 

  “The legend is lost,” says Misaline, “the ancient legend, that was ancient in your ancestor’s ancestor’s time. The Quest of the Nine Gems, to open the Timeless Door, into the land where the Crystal Lake lies to gain the sword which only the true king, ruler of all the land may wield.”

 

   “Oh…so…here right?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “Upon the death of the king the nine gems would be reborn across the land, and the sword would return to the Crystal Lake…eventually the people stopped the trials for king…mainly due to the royal family being overthrown between (true kings). As with the sword none may question the rule, a law in your very biology that holds true even today, and is the key to unlock the stone temple in which the dark goddess lies in the Goldra mountains.”

 

   Dorkaring nods, “okay, I get the sword, I open the temple, fight this witch goddess, and become king of everything…I like it!”

 

   He actually gives a big thumbs up, “okay, so where’s this Crystal Lake?”

 

  Misaline points north, “travel North from here for two days and the lake will appear before you then. Think of it as another test, one of patience.”

 

   Dorkaring shrugs and heads off to the north. As he walks away Xin leaps from Misaline’s arms and turns back to her humanoid form and sits at the table. When Dorkaring is out of sight a figure emerges from the shadows; Rhulan.

 

   “Seriously,” says Rhulan, “and why again couldn’t I have just collected those gems myself and gotten the sword?”

 

   “Remember,” says Misaline, “the gems were designed to move away from any strong magic. The king was supposed to be one of pure human heritage, as the Ancient Dragon decreed…and the Lady of the Crystal Lake would never hand the sword over to a magical being of any kind, she wouldn’t even appear if one of us got close to that lake, so no chance of seducing or bargaining with her…or would you like to test the magic of Ancient Dragons with celestial governance again?”

 

   Rhulan crosses her arms and smiles, “someday I very well will.”

 

    ******

 

 

 

    Thus Dorkaring adventures for two days across the Timeless Plains, the tranquil scene is not without monsters for him to fight however; strange light based ethereal guardians. Prior to reaching the Crystal Lake he comes across a strange town of pointed eared people surprised to see an outsider. When asked they know nothing about any Xin, Misaline, or Rhulan, the Crystal Lake however is another story. He learns that there are two more tasks to be done to gain the sword Exgladius; he must first defeat the Crystal Serpent, guardian of the maiden of the lake, and then he must gain the maiden’s favor, without being tricked by her and drowned; taking a gift for her, a Blue Apple, and a Fire Rose as offering will prevent her from drowning him. These are two more tasks in themselves. The Blue Apples are guarded by Wrath Hawks, intelligent as humans, but many times more aggressive, and the blue dragon Fanfnir that is chained to the tree of the Blue Apples. The second task the Fire Rose, seemingly harmless looking flowers with fire like patterns on them and said to never wilt so long as either flames or water are present. He must brave combat against the Venus Guardians, walking rose petal headed fire spitting thorn vines for bodies plant monsters that travel about the Briar Labyrinth, the center of which is where the Fire Rose bush can be found. He is informed to avoid the mansion on the far end of the labyrinth, the paths to which can only be found from the center of the maze.

 

   Dorkaring first adventures to the Blue Apples, with his might and new found powers from the gems still in his body he is able to best the Wrath Hawks and defeat Fanfnir the blue dragon. Then he challenges the maze, it is a greater task of wisdom than he thought as crystal rods can change the paths, moving the briar walls, as well as raise and lower stones and change water ways. The Venus Guardians are not the only threat, as giant wasps with venomous stingers, and odd rolling stone mole/armadillo monsters have taken up residence in the maze as well. The atmosphere of the maze is grimmer than one expects from a rose bush based maze as the skeletons of those who failed can be found, signs left behind by past individuals seeking the Fire Roses. He reaches the center and gains the Fire Rose; however the mansion catches his eyes, and he decides to head for it despite the warnings not to. Upon reach the mansion, he finds a barrier over the door, odd giggling sounds can be heard from within, but none of his power can break the seal on the mansion. He vows to return once he has the sword.

 

     Dorkaring returns to the village and rests, he hates the fact that there are no wenches for him here, these “Elves” as they call themselves look down on him apparently and act very high class. They tell him a prince among humans is no better than a beggar among rats in their world until they have proven themselves. He heads out the next day to the Crystal Lake. It is a beauty among beauties; the water if not for rippling he would think was a giant blue gemstone. The beauty of the scenery is cut short as the serpent appears. Its body looks to be made of the water its self, yet has a rigidness to it like living crystal. The beast is some horrific cross between an eel and a snake with a touch of dragon in it. The battle is long and hard, yet with a mighty stroke the monster vanishes, turning into water like a burst bubble.

 

   The she appears, the maiden of the Crystal Lake. Her skin is smooth and pale, her body lithe and impossibly gorgeous, a white robe wrapped around her in such a way that she might as well be naked. Her blue hair and eyes are dead matches for the water, that she rises from as though floating free from it, dry, and now walking upon the surface towards him. He did not notice the water by his feet snake up on him as he watched the maiden, he did not feel it wrap around his feet and up his body, pinning him, until she is right up on him, her breasts rubbing into his chest as the water snakes under her and rises her up to his eye level. Her eyes glow and she put her finger to his lips and smiles.

 

   “Oh,” she says, her one word like honey to his ears, his eyes glazed over, enchanted by this woman.

 

   Her water pulls free from his pockets the Blue Apple, and the Fire Rose.

 

  “You brought me gifts,” she releases him, from the water, yet he remains enchanted as she lowers down and takes him by the hand. She bids him to follow her; she steps backwards onto the lake, Dorkaring follow, her magic guiding him on the water as well. In the center of the lake a round island rises up, in the center of which is a bed. She guides him to it and sits him down. She ever so gently pushes him down with her hand while stroking his chest hair. The water creeps up like serpents from the lake, onto the bed and wraps around his wrists and ankles. It transforms into blue crystal chains tying him to the bed. Her sheet like robe falls from her body revealing her full beauty. His pants are literally ripped from his body, allowing his nine inch member its full freedom to stand proud. Crawling on the bed she lowers her head to his crotch, in his blurred vision he can only see her tight ass cheeks, but he can feel her tongue as it extends from her mouth in an impossible for a human manner and wraps around his cock, stroking him in a way he has never felt before, her tongue flat and forked at the end. As her tongue undulates around his shaft it extends even further the sliding and undulation almost more than he can bare. The tip of her tongue comes back and snakes into his prick’s hole, plugging it. As her tongue continues to stroke him she gets up on her knees, somehow even more tongue coming from her mouth, now snaked down her body, going over her right tit, teasing herself and him.

 

   She straddles the hero, taking his shaft and her own tongue into her snatch. As she rides him, she uncurls her tongue pulling it free from both of them, rolling slowly back up her body. Back in her mouth, she licks her lips with a now human like tongue. Her eyes are pure lust as she rides him with such ferocity that he could swear the earth was literally moving beneath, as though the entire island were getting in on the action; not an impossible scenario. It is not long before he can take no more of it and explodes inside her.

 

    As he goes soft, still inside her, his mind starts to unfuzz and realize he is chained up. No sooner however does he begin in a just waking from a dream manner think of this than she leans over and pops her tit in his mouth. Obligingly he suckles, surprised when milk shoots down his throat. The taste is beyond anything he could imagine, a flavor beyond flavors, he teases her nipple with his tongue and teeth hoping to get more from her, earning a *coo* to escape her lips. His mind fuzzes over again, and his stamina returns, and prick goes hard again. Once more she rides him, he hears her whisper between her moans, “yes, breed me, give me daughters and sons, our children will be strong…”

 

   His next barely alert moment finds him still there, her thrusting on top of him, as though she were the man and him the wench, he can feel her tightening on his prick, painfully. Her long tongue has snaked up to the tree overlooking the bed and pulled down some berries. She feeds them into his mouth with her tongue, teasing every inch of his tongue as she feeds him. In a hiss like voice, and he could swear her pupils shift to snake like when she talks, “I can taste dragon inside you…I am never letting you go.”

 

    He does not know for how long this continues, his mind is a blur, he does feel strange magic being fed into his limbs by the chains keeping his muscles strong, maybe stronger than before as the pain he felt before does not return. She is making him stronger to be a better lover for her. He is there long enough to notice that the tree glows, causing him to lose track of day and night, but how long has it been until he noticed that? How often does she ride him? It is almost as if every waking moment is her riding his dick dry, feeding him berries, or making him drink from her ample lactating bosoms. She only briefly leaves him alone, during one such prolonged period his mind became clear enough to contemplate trying to escape. But that was short lived as she returned and engulfed his prick with a mind blowing blowjob in which she wrapped his dick up in a vibrating and undulating tongue cocoon and sucked on the tip with a gentle nip around the top, her lips teasing the head.

 

   Then it happened, while in a daze he swears while she is riding him a hand wraps around the maiden’s throat yanking her from him. He could not look up, but he could hear thunderous roars and felt a terrible wind blow across the island, if the bed were not magical, as well as the shackles he believes he would have blown clear of the lake. Then there is a strange silence, followed by a pair of loud pleasure filled female moans, one of which he knows to be the maiden.

 

   When he next awakes, he is really awake. His mind is clear and he is standing on the edge of the lake, fully clothed, no sign of any island. Before him is the maiden and an alter made of water holding a magnificent shimmering blade.

 

  “King of kings,” says the maiden, “you have proven your worth, here is your prize, Exgladius, the legendary blade. Now take it and do not look back.”

 

   He takes the sword and heads away, her words of not to look back catch his attention, her begins to turn, catching the glimpse of the end of a blue jewel like scaled tail with a red tuft on the end just as he feels a prick in his neck and loses consciousness.

 

   He awakens to a marvelous sensation, a tongue, a normal…well a little long…but not flat or forked or prehensile at any rate, licking up and down his shaft. He opens his eyes only a crack, realizing he is leaned up against a tree with his pants around his ankles and the sword stabbed into the ground just out of reach. Not that he’d want to before there between the cracks of his eyes is a long haired blond elf chick with much longer ears than the ones from the village. She is holding his prick in one hand as it grows and licking up the shaft, she moans, “juices from the dragoness…yes, delicious.”

 

   She grabs his shaft and stares at his engorged member, “she said you had dragon’s blood in your veins…juices of a dragoness…fluids of her dragon lover…the power I’ll gain,” she smiles and engulfs his cock in her mouth.

 

   She is not tender like the maiden was, she sucks on his cock like she was trying to pull a melon through a keyhole, her hand runs up and down forcing him to cum as quickly as possible.

 

  As he explodes into her mouth, and she is quick to swallow with a slightly disgusted expression he can’t help but say, “damn”

 

   She looks him in his eyes, as he looks down in hers. Before he can do or say anything she vanishes like a ghost. As he pulls his pants up and retrieves his new sword…wandering briefly what happened to his old sword, he says, “what was that about…wait…dragoness?” he remembers the scales briefly and the words he could make out when even partially alert.

 

   He shakes his head, realizing he is halfway between the lake and the village and thinks better of going back to the lake, even if the thought of doing so makes his dick jump remembering things he doesn’t.

  

    ******

 

    The villagers are not kind, but they are not as mean as before. More less snooty some supposes. However, rather than returning south Dorkaring remembers something and heads back to the Briar Maze. He defeats the monsters along the way, despite his personality he has a great memory. He comes once more to the door of the mansion, and touches his new sword Exgladius to the barrier, it snaps and vanishes. Something pink catches his eye, from behind a well trimmed bush beneath a window to his right. A pink mist comes over him and into his eyes.

 

     He sees a woman, the most attractive woman he has ever seen come out from behind the bushes, wearing a pink see through gown. Without a word she walks over to him and rubs her silky soft smooth hands cupped together over his chest and body, she rips his belt off and begins to pull his pants apart. He lowers himself down and lies on his back on the yellow stone walkway. She crouches over him, running her silky smooth hands still cupped together over his face, down his body, and wraps them around his mighty phallus. In a blink of his eyes her hands are replaced with her mouth sucking him off, she is leaning over him like some bird drinking water. In another blink she is lowering her womanhood onto him, taking his member in her strangely pulsating womanhood, and leaning over, running her hands up and down his body, somehow all at once but his dazed out mind doesn’t care. She leans over him and teases his lower lip with her teeth. He opens his mouth and she slips her tongue inside. She is drooling from her tongue as he kisses her, not noticing he is somehow stuck to the ground, and she isn’t even moving as he pussy pumps his dick on its own like a second strange mouth wrapped around him in its warm wetness. He feels a slight sting above his dick below his abs, and an odd warm wet flap cascade over his balls as he passes out completely.

 

-what is really happening-

 

   The sweet aroma overtakes his senses, he sees a woman in pink, the reality is it is a Venus Guardian, a mostly hidden stem wrapped around by thorn covered vines as thick as a woman’s arms. This one however instead of a red blossom closed up in a cone shape, has a pink one, and it is spewing out its sweet aroma. The roughly four foot tall when moving plant comes over to him. Its soft blossom *kissing* along his body, taking in his scent. The blossom moves up and down, it stops at his pants. By instinct it goes for the part that will ensure its illusion is complete, finding an inorganic barrier it rips through it (the belt and pants). Dorkaring obliges the plant and gets on the hard ground as it gently pushes against him with its blossom and vines. While on his back the plant coils its blossom around his member teasing it, preparing its vines that are stretching out to strike their deadly blow. Deep inside the blossom at the stem the toothy round maw starts to drool, the digestive juices stream down, weak digestive juices simulating human saliva to keep the victim in the trance till it is far too late. Something changes however; normally it would open up its blossom and go for the head (actual head, not dick head), enveloping it to close off air while biting and spitting its stronger digestive juices into the victim’s face. Perhaps it’s the thorns finding it hard to break his skin, or some scent that came from his pre-cum contacting the plant’s saliva, or a scent coming off his body or its behavior has been in this mode rather than feeding from the start.

 

   This Venus Guardian stops and raises its blossom skyward and repositions its self. It extends out its vines, exposing the stem, the vines wrap around his legs, arms, and waist. The plant hovers over his groin, a round pulsating wet orifice opens up at the base of the stem. It lowers it onto his dick, engulfing his member in its inviting warmness, pulsating goodness, and slick wetness. From a pouch like orifice on what is apparently the front of the plant new vines emerge, smooth one that unravel and inflate over his torso, growing broad leaves as they go. It stops short of his mouth, two little hooks paw at his lower lip, he opens his mouth. Two broad leaves grow out and cover his face as a tube extends from the vine into his mouth. He licks at the tube, believing he is kissing the woman, the plant actually shudders in pleasure at the unexpected treatment of the tube. It drips a fluid into his mouth. He doesn’t see it as the plant extends out a mucus, spider web patterned membrane from its sexual orifice over his testicles and lower body that adheres to him like glue and sticks his body and the stone beneath them. Two needle like hooks come out the front and stab into his pubic mound.

 

    Vines and leaves grow out from the plant, covering his body, leaves being used mainly to cover but not smother his face. The vines around his body break into the ground around them, easily splitting up stone as they turn into roots. The blossom opens up fully and extends three white and yellow stalks from its mouth that curl at the tip. Over the next few hours some of the vines change, growing small toothy cup mouths on their ends that grab at and devour small animals that come too close. Dorkaring is not still however, looking on one could see sporadic spasms as if he were trying to free himself. The plant also spasms, as it apparently enjoys his moments, its sexual orifice actually speeding up its pumping suction during these moments. The truth is the plant’s juices are feeding him and it is producing a special enzyme that it is pumping into him via the hooks that stimulates muscular activity so its mate doesn’t atrophy and die beneath it. The one part that Dorkaring wasn’t awake for, that might have broken the spell was the roots coming up between his legs, emitting a slick liquid and pegging him in his ass hole. This is the plant consuming his fecal matter, as the plant is not only eating for its self, but at times the fluid drip becomes a protein paste and there will be waste.

 

   However as the day goes on, the plant starts to pump the rectal tube at times, learning that the pressure on his prostate makes him cum harder. All this in a manner of hours, Dorkaring is in a dream, a dream about a woman riding him, her friends holding him down, and a part he tries to fight at first the girl bringing a shemale friend over who levitates him and fucks him in the ass while the first girl magically rides him, or he is on the edge of a bed; dreams don’t have to be realistic to be accepted by the brain.

 

   Days go by, the plant feeding, protecting, and constantly mating with him. It stops ever so often, but his flaccid penis stays inside the plant, whose manipulations once he is replenished get him going again. Only at night does it not do any pulsating or pumping, instead in feed mode while the blossom closes up. After a few days the three stems bud and tiny feathered seeds emerge that fly off in the wind.

 

    From a window in the mansion Rhulan pulls back a curtain, “I have to admit…I have the weirdest turn on right now…”

 

    A purple haired living mannequin wearing a sexy maid uniform that does pretty much nothing to contain its giant soft tits walks over, “engulfing,” she says, “a fetish rare, but beautiful in its own way. If I may madam I will get you off before you get to work.”

 

   Rhulan smiles, “Do as you wish Maria.”

 

   Maria the living doll gets down on her knees and licks at Rhulan’s shadow cloth covered crotch. The material spreads out on its own exposing Rhulan’s swollen clit. Maria takes it fully in her mouth and sucks on it, before slipping her tongue inside. Rhulan reaches for her own tits when another identical living doll appears and teases her tits for her. A third appears and takes Rhulan’s other tit in her mouth, circling the aureole and nipping on the tit as she massages the full body of the breast.

 

   “Oh my…” moans Rhulan, as the three guide her back to the bed in the room, giggling as they all jump into the bed with her. Rhulan’s shadow cloth fully retreats, as does her cape into the magical space she uses to hold it all.  The three living dolls are insatiable, nipping, licking, sucking, Rhulan’s entire body, literally, toes sucked, fingers sucked, armpit…weird as that is, earlobes, and especially her breasts, abdomen, and twat, like some super cat bath deluxe orgy. When it is all over, the three, one on each side and the third lying ontop of her say in unison, “see, being engulfed is sexy.”

 

    Rhulan smiles and says, “my turn, I’ll show you how insatiable my appetite is.” The three *squee* together on the bed as Rhulan gets up and smiles over them.

 

     ******

 

    “How many monster broods does this guy plan to make,” comes a woman’s voice.

 

   When Dorkaring opens his eyes, the woman he dream of his gone. The ground around him is torn all the hell though, full of holes, some bushes thrashed, small decorative trees smashed in half. He stands up confused, especially as he once again is wearing new pants. He walks over the door of the mansion and finds a note on the door that reads in his language [Get back to your mission you horndog, I’d say your “fucking” mission to emphasize it, but then you might try to screw the statues next.]

 

    He reaches for the sign, but finds the barrier in the way. He draws the sword Exgladius, but upon touching the barrier there is a flash of light and he finds himself standing on top of the hill that was about two days walk away. There is a table there and sitting there is a bosom Misaline.

 

   Dorkaring looks around, “what happened?” he asks.

 

  “Congratulations,” says Misaline, “you will now be the proud father of a brood of about twenty baby dragons, and oh about twenty thousand Snap Drakons, a deadly plant monster that is a hybrid of a Venus Guardian and dragons, usually riding dragons, the kind your mother fucked to make you. That’s right while here in the Timeless Land you fucked a dragon for about three weeks, and then fucked a fucking flower for about five days.”

 

   Dorkaring is about to say something, however Misaline continues, “remember those flowers you fought in the Briar Maze in front of the mansion that you can’t enter? Well those are called Venus Guardians, and they come in a variety of colors, the pink ones…that’s right…pink ones…give off a sweet aroma that makes animals think they see, smell, and touch an attractive member of their own species…sometimes multiple ones at a time, but that’s your brain correcting for all the vines. Normally a soft and squishy weak human would have been just been eaten; but no, not you, that dragon’s blood in your veins and strong body made you an attractive mate to it, not unlike some elves that go there for a quick pleasure now and again as the plant lets you go once its mating cycle is over. Oh but it wanted to make multiple cycles with you, might have kept you during the whole mating season with how strong your body is. Just be glad you weren’t a woman, they get weird with the tentacles and do this weird genetic parasitism thing to get what they need that you couldn’t possibly understand, but they don’t need to do with men as men produce millions of sperm cells.”

 

   Dorkaring just says, “what?”

 

   “Right,” says Misaline, “dumb as a rock, and your society doesn’t know about cells yet anyway. Long story short, you got the gems, their power, the sword…fucked some monsters along the way like a perverted freak, and now I’m kicking you out of here so you can get back to your actual quest.”

 

    “weeks and days…” says Dorkaring.

 

   “Oh for…” starts Misaline, “this is the Timeless Land, its timeline isn’t even connected to yours, to avoid a paradox overlap, when you leave only about ten seconds will have passed in your world. Sooo, bye.”

 

 

   There is another flash, but this time he is flying from the gate and lands on his face, and the sword appears a moment later in front of him and falls down sticking into the ground.

 

   He looks around and pops his neck before picking up the sword, “right…the quest. “ He raises Exgladius to the sky,  “ To slay the witch goddess, save the world.” He smiles and whispers, “and become king of the world.” 

 

     The Timeless Gate closes behind him, there are no notches for gems this time. Inside on the hill, Misaline’s form shimmers like a mirage to reveal Rhulan.

 

   The real Misaline appears, “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, buuuut….you didn’t get my cutesy demeanor down.”

 

   “My apologies,” says Rhulan, “for that, and tearing up your yard to get that frippin plant off him, damn thing was going to hold him down all breeding season…or until he died. My patience is limited….more so with a goal right in front of me…damn man, going to have to keep an eye on him, he might get side tracked and decide to start his own house of hero babies.”

 

    Misaline laughs as Rhulan crosses her arms and smiles trying not to.



#2382 Rhuen

Rhuen

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Posted 24 February 2014 - 02:38 PM

and now the final chapter of Eldritch Quest:

 

 

The Darkness in the Mountain:

 

    Thus Dorkaring returned to his all important quest, at least until he reached the next town where he decided to party with wenches and seek out a thief that had been stealing undergarments from clothes lines. Turned out to be a dwarf martial artist with a thing for explosives, from whom Dorkaring learned a recipe for a great explosive. The Dorkaring returned to his quest, but after a side trip where he fell a great stone tree with one chop to make a bridge across a dangerous river for a local farmer and his family to reach some herbs to cultivate he decided to go try out his sword on some odd jobs from the adventurer’s guild and bounty postings. He slew a Mushdoom that was on the rampage outside a village, stopped a rampaging magically mutated bull, caught a few thieves, stopped a bandit gang, and was sent on a task by a farmer to save his daughter who had been taken away in the night by a Slug Maiden.

 

    Dorkaring sneaks up on the cave of the Slug Maiden, inside he can hear a woman moaning in ecstasy. His mind turns to images of a young maiden being eaten out by a slug maiden, a monster he had only ever before seen pictures of. A creature with a slug like bottom only lime green and more slime like than slug, with a woman’s torso above and thin tendrils for hair. He sneaks up to a window like opening in the cave wall and crawls into see, what he sees makes his mouth drop. Indeed there is a brunette farm girl, stripped of her clothing, writhing on the ground moaning, except the lower half of her body is down the impossibly stretch mouth of the slug maiden. Her human top side is no bigger than a normal human woman, parts seen stretching with the other woman down her throat, with a giant slug body behind as if the human part were entirely just the head. The farmer’s daughter is pawing at the dirt of the cave floor, her face flush red, as she moans in pure pleasure, the lips of the slug maiden wrapped around her waist now and working their way up in seems.

 

   Dorkaring leaps down from the window and draws his sword, “release her now monster!”

 

   The girl moans, “she…she’s not…ooooohhhh…mmmm.”  

 

  The Slug Maiden rears up, a loud surprised moan escaping the girl as she is lifted high into the air; a long blue slimy tentacle of a tongue juts out from the Slug Maiden’s extended slime like jaw. It wraps around the girl’s waist pinning her arms to her sides, goes up between the breasts. It bends towards Dorkaring revealing the cone like head of the tongue has a mouth like opening and *hisses at him*. The girl opens her mouth and the tentacle shoots into it. In this same instant the girl is slurped down the Slug Maiden’s throat.

 

   “Demon!” yells out Dorkaring.

 

   “Not so fast,” says the Slug Maiden, “don’t you know Slug Maiden’s explode when killed? Kill me and the girl dies too.”

 

   “You just ate her,” says Dorkaring.

 

  “She is stored,” says the Slug Maiden, “kept alive and well, I am feeding her air…but if you really want her back I might be persuaded to oblige.”

 

   She smiles seductively at Dorkaring.

 

  “What do you want?”

 

  “A large strapping man like you? Sex of course.”

 

 “and you’ll let the girl go unharmed?”

 

  The Slug Maiden smiles, “promise,”

 

  Dorkaring pulls down his pants, already erect from earlier, “eh…where.”

 

  She moves up closer to him, just below the human abdomen section he can feel a slight opening, his dick slides right in. He doesn’t even need to do any work as it sucks on him, like pursed lips on a straw.

 

   “Kiss me,” she says as her blue tongue sticks out.

 

   He seals her mouth with his, wrestling her tongue with his, he is careful to mind an opening that appears on the end of the tongue, reminding him of what he saw before.

 

   “check this out,” she somehow says as the opening of her tongue slurps up his tongue, an erotic sensation he’s never felt before, and he’s had some weird experiences already.

 

   He thrusts his hips, unable to control himself as his dick and tongue are sucked on. She stops, on both ends as she says, “now suck on my tongue”.

 

   She pulls her mouth back from his and lets her tongue stick out, rigid. He puts his lips around her tongue and sucks on it back and forth, nearly gagging. But the returned attention to his dick makes him deal with it. Her tongue swells  in his mouth nearly choking him; but that glazed over, eyes rolled back expression on her face charges him on. He licks her engorged tongue, sucks on it, something about it reminds him of something else however.

 

   Her pussy suddenly opens up very wide and a long flat wet surface shoots out from it, between his legs, and cupping his ass as her arms wrap around him. She pulls him into the air and starts to thrust her tongue rapidly down his throat. She moans like a madwoman, her hair tendrils start whipping around and her eyes roll back as something, a lot of something shoots down his throat. He pulls himself free of the Slug Maiden, choking out a vomit stream of something white and thick, and very salty. He turns in time to see what looks like a green tongue roll up like a tube and retract into the Slug Maiden’s pussy as it too tightens up to the point it can’t be told apart from any of the other folds in her body. He looks up to see her tongue lulled out and dripping the white sludge onto the floor.

 

   She pants and says, “you give the best blowjobs.”

 

   His eyes shoot wide open, he looks at where the pussy was, and at her mouth and remembers what a slug looks like normally.

 

   He points at where the pussy was and utters, “wrong…hole…”

 

   The Slug Maiden convulses and the farmer’s daughter is brought back up and released on the ground. As the slug maiden lets her go, he sees her mouth and body covered in the same white sludge he just puked up, and finally as the legs are released a tongue the third one he has seen escapes the girl’s pussy lips, dripping the same fluid, and then a fourth he hadn’t noticed pulls free, also dripping from her rectum.

 

   She pants on the floor, “best…threesome…ever…”

 

   The Slug Maiden pulls all four tongues back in her mouth and says, “if you want to come back later big guy, I have a fifth penis too, we can give your hole some attention too.”

 

   He looks down to see the farmer’s daughter smiling up at him, albeit too worn out to continue for the time being.

 

   After a brief pause she says, “daddy sent you huh? He doesn’t approve of Valeria and I seeing each other, prude.”

 

   “What…” starts Dorkaring spitting out some more “sludge”.

 

  “When you said I ate Mal,” says Valeria, “I was tempted to say *Wrong hole*”

 

  She opens her mouth and five long blue tentacles come out as she stretches her mouth wider. Then startling him, the pussy opens up like a big O with a green tube that unfurls.

 

  “That’s her mouth,” says Mal, “the other mouth…on the human part…is her pussy slash dicks hole…thing, inside her her womb is like a super…mmmmm…” she strokes her tits and rubs her own clit in remembrance writhing on the ground, “orgy cave…mmm,”

 

   “Oh,” says Mal as the fifth tongue, penis, tentacle, reaches down and strokes gently over her pussy lips.

 

   “I…uh,…” says Dorkaring pulling up his pants and backing towards the wooden door over the cave entrance, “have…things…to do, right, I’m a hero, have to save the world from an evil goddess.”

 

   “Dorkaring…” moans Mal followed by an *oooh* as Valeria penetrates her, “come back soon…hero”

 

   Valeria smiles up at him too, “yeah…that duel blowjob was really hot…”

 

 

   Dorkaring turns and leaves, turning white as a sheet and holding his gut as he vomits. With a look of anger he looks back in the direction of the farm house. As he stomps through the woods, images of what just happened flash in his mind and words like, “that wasn’t so bad, she was sexy…that wasn’t really a dick, she’s a slug….remember school? Slugs are her…herma….ferdi….both sexes man, so its not gay….they only have one gender…plus tits man…tits…totally girl…just with tentacles that shoot splooge.”

 

   Dorkaring stops before the farm. The farmer sees him and comes out, “did you…”

 

   Dorkaring glares at him and stops, forgetting what he was going to say back when he started stomping over and instead says, “don’t hire anyone else to go after them…by order of Dorkaring, you send someone, I send you to prison for life!”

 

   “Y…yes sir,” says the frightened farmer.

 

   Dorkaring turns to leave and says, “I’ll be back,”

 

   If Dorkaring had returned to the cave he would have seen a stranger sight, as Mal says, “I need to get cleaned up for home…” and smiles at Valeria.

 

  “Pudding stick,” says Valeria opening her true mouth and rolling out her tongue. Mal lays on a nearby giant long leaf, and laughs as she rolls up some corners on her splooge covered body. Valeria comes over, and slides her tongue under the leaf and Mal’s legs, bringing her mouth over Mal’s feet, sucking as she goes, and slithering forward drawing Mal, and the leaf into her body. Valeria pauses as Mal’s hips and waist go in and gives a strong *suck* making Mal shiver and giggle, “you,” says Mal.

 

   “Arms,” says Valeria.

 

 “right,” says Mal, wrapping the leaf around her body like a blanket, tucking her arms in.

 

 Valeria streatches around Mal’s arms. She pauses briefly on the tits give then a long suck and then brings Mal’s body clear into her own body, stopping with just the tops of the shoulders, neck and head sticking out.

 

  “Touched bottom,” whispers Mal.

 

 “mmmmm,” says Valeria playing with her tits, “you are my favorite treat.”

 

 

     Mal makes a kissing motiong up at Valeria who sends down one of her phallic blue tongues. Mal sucks on the tip as it enters her mouth and says, “you’re my favorite treat too babe.”

 

    Inside the body, Mal can feel the plant dissolve around her, Valeria’s specialized herbivore saliva attacking plant matter but not animal matter doing its work. Valeria’s body undulates on Mal’s driving her crazy. That long tongue and body muscles manipulate Mal turning her around.

 

    “I want to taste those delicious tits,” says Valeria rolling her long tongue over Mal’s erect nipples. They both start bucking, Mal still sucking on that long phallic tentacle tongue. One might call it doggy style, in a not really sort of way, a style only possible with this arrangement of species. After they have both cum, Mal inside Valeria’s gut cavity, really a long mouth before the stomach/intestine coiled inside her, and Valeria a clear after cum that Mal mostly tries to swallow but some gets on the floor, they are both spent. Valeria crawls over to a mat, making Mal tremble from the movement, where she slowly spits her out, stopping briefly on her tits to enjoy the flavor for a moment longer.

 

   Mal and Valeria cuddle on the mat.

 

  Valeria whispers, “I am so glad I tried to eat you that first time.”

 

  Mal turns and kisses her, “I am so glad I wore that flower perfume the night I got lost in the woods, and took a nap outside your cave.”

 

  Valeria parts her hair and kisses her on the neck and says, “I know I was there you delicious inedible lover you.”

 

   A shimmer on the wall, something only Valeria sees, and smiles at enjoying that they were being watched.

 

  ******

 

   As Dorkaring climbs the mountain he sees an odd tiny wooden sign with a white face and black bold letters saying, [You need to save the world, you can fuck all the sex monsters you want when the world is not in peril.”

 

   “I know that Misaline,” says Dorkaring to the air and pulling the sign out, “the sword knows the way!”

 

   A silent figure invisible to him and further up the mountain side crosses her arms and thinks, “how was that a response to the sign?”

 

   Dorkaring travels the mountain, following a shimmer that appears when he points Exgladius in the right direction; something he learned from one of the many signs beings left for him. His travels through the mountains are long as he goes to heights and overlooks valleys he has never seen before, along the way even helping a lost tribe of Condor People far from their native lands find a Soul Stone that had been taken by a giant centipede, and amazingly did so without fucking the centipede. Well to be nice he doesn’t fuck most the things on these side quests, it just happens with more frequency than one expects from someone called a prince.

 

   Eventually he comes to a dry desert like sloping rocky side of the mountains overlooking a lush valley with a bean shaped lake in the middle. He fights a few flying monsters he has never seen before, like fangy bat winged mouths with tentacles and Bats Eyes, eyeballs with batwings that shoot acid tear drops, among some mole like things and such. He is lead to a sandstone like door guarded by a barrier not unlike that from the mansion, with a slot in the middle surrounded by strange runes in a circle. He slides the sword into the slot, easily penetrating the barrier. Please we hope he didn’t get off on that. Anywho, the door splits along the slot, two sides sliding open in protest. Inside is a long tunnel, magical lanterns ignite with smokeless flames leading the way. As he approaches a door there is a sudden strong gust of wind from behind him, and a black smoke that slithers around his feet with it racing through the door.

 

   He opens the black double doors decorated with imagery of a five headed dragon beast fighting a giant winged warrior woman. Inside the black mist obscures the far wall, a very bosom female frame emerges from the center of the best, knees bent, feet merged into the cloud, back in the cloud, arms free, long wavy wild hair that merges into the cloud. She has no mouth, however she does have a nose, and two pupil less red eyes.

 

   Dorkaring remembers Rhulan, this does not look like her, however her voice comes from it, “Foolish hero, have you come here only to die?”

 

   Dorkaring smiles as he draws his sword, “I have fought many monsters, and I know your secret.”

 

   “Really?” offers the dark mist.

 

  “I can either thrust Exgladius the legendary blade into your heart, killing you…or I can thrust something else into you…” he smiles smugly, “turn you away from evil and…”

 

   She aims her palm at him, throwing him with an unseen force into the wall, smacking him hard against it. He reaches behind his head and feels the blood escaping his scalp.

 

   “Raaaaa!” he yells flying forward with the legendary blade. He goes right through her and stabs something with a crinkling sound.

 

   The mist laughs wildly and maniacally. It clears from the room revealing that he has stabbed his sword into a giant blue crystal on the far wall. The crystal cracks and vanishes like dust that evaporates in the air. There is a sudden rumbling and the voice from the mist before, “you are going to want to run now.”

 

   Dorkaring flees the crumbling cave escaping to the outside. The ground is still shaking, but what he sees stops him flat on his feet. The mountain to the north has opened up. Great clouds of dust fill the air. Something, something as massive as the mountain emerges, a great beast whose body could shadow any village he has ever seen, whose leg alone would be sufficient to smash his castle back home with merely a step. Its body is not unlike a stocky dog with thick legs and strong rounded frame. Its underbelly and legs are covered in large golden round turtle shell like plates. Its feet sport four relatively short toes with white cone shaped claws. Its back sports over layered white blade like armor plates. Two tails can be made out going back into the black swirling abyss that the open mountain leads into, the darkness that was the beasts prison. The monster sports five heads, three at the top with relatively long serpentine necks with snake belly undersides and armored plate dorsal sides. It has the heads of frilled dragons. Two other similar necks and heads come off of the shoulders of its front limbs.

 

   The monster doesn’t move forward anymore, its tails whip up and down slowly as its heads kind of move back and forth and though surveying the land through squinting eyes.

 

  Xin appears before Dorkaring, “What have you done?”

 

  “What?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “You were supposed to use Exgladius to slay the evil witch, not destroy the seal of Shabhigdra!”

 

   “Who?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “The unspeakable one,” says Xin, “that’s its name Shabhigdra, and that’s what you see over there! But all is not lost. You can slay it. Become a hero of legends that will be told even after they become myth millennia from now. A name remembered for all eternity.”

 

 

   Dorkaring looks at his sword, legendary it might be, and then at the lumbering monstrosity that makes trees look like cut grass beneath it, upon whose back a city could be built.

 

   “It is not fully awake,” says Xin, “if it were its wings would have emerged and it would fly to the moon to wage war on the goddess that sleeps there who imprisoned it long ago…or first destroy as much of the world she loved so much to draw her out. But you have Exgladius, upon the monster’s back near its heads there is a glowing white sigil, stab it there with the sword and it will die. It was a failsafe of the goddess should the monster ever awaken.”

 

   Dorkaring is about to speak with a questioning look when Xin says, “she is a benevolent goddess even towards world ending monsters, she’d rather seal it than kill it. So that death point was a safe guard kind of thing.”

 

   Dorkaring nods and heads off, climbing over the mountain, a longer trek than one thinks, but the beast remains there, just standing there day after day. However as Dorkaring gets closer something changes, he can see wings begin to grow from its back red membranes and golden scale covered limbs with black stripes.

 

   “Slow to rise,” says Dorkaring as he comes upon the cliff overlooking the monster’s back. Its wings are halfway grown, he can see black circles with purple spots in the center on the wings, like those on a butterfly, except these are like some mutated cross between bat wings and butterfly wings. He leaps onto the monsters back. As he makes his way towards the head, things come out from between the scales, horrible things with spindly bodies and many mouths; hook armed things with glowing Cyclops eyes, drill armed beetles, and armored worms. He fights his way through the abyssal hordes.

 

   Upon arriving before the sigil he stabs Exgladius into it. Massive white sparks shoot over the monster’s body, it lets out a horrific deafening roar from its five heads. The sigil vanishes and the heads bend backwards, trying to look at its own body. The space around the sigil morphs into eight miniature heads, all still towering over him, that look down on him and speak in unison, “Who dares strike Shabhigdra the destroyer of worlds?...hmm…tiny mortal man with dragon’s blood? You are no match for Shabhigdra, merely another parasite upon our back.”

 

   “Those…were parasites,” thinks Dorkaring.

 

  He aims his sword high and announces, “I am the Great Hero Dorkaring, legendary Hero, I have slain many monsters, seen many things, I will not fall here monster! I the great hero Dorkaring will van…vanquit…destroy you!”

 

    Shabhigdra laughs, its eight mini heads speak, “Let’s see how long you last little insect.”

 

   It shoots energy beams from its mouth while Dorkaring leaps about slashing at them. Each falls and vanishes in black smoke as he slashes them off. However another grows back, each time the larger necks bend impossibly backwards, their dorsal plates changing into a kind of octopus like skin, the heads slowly rotating as long five forked pink tentacle like tongues slowly come from the mouths. Just as he is starting to fight these spike covered tongues that are all around him, blocking him in something happens.

 

   Upon the valley floor Shabhigdra did not see her there, distracted by the Holy Sigil of Celestial Lightning, and Dorkaring’s attacks it did not notice the sorceress Rhulan emerge, did not notice as she summoned a long black broadsword with a black hilt, whose guard looks like black feathers. It did however notice the attack.

 

    “Moon Clever!” yells out Rhulan unleashes a massive black energy wave that thanks to the five heads all leaning back together cuts through all five necks at once. The gust of wind from the attack throws Dorkaring off his feet. Before the heads can fall Rhulan as thrown a large red orb, Telekinetically thrusted and thrown together the orb to send it as fast as possibly into the wound of Shabhigdra.

 

   It is as if time stops. The heads do not fall upon Dorkaring, he simply stands there confused. Red cracks like lines on shattering glass form all over the monster’s body. A massive scurrying can be heard as the parasites flee in a cloud from the body. The body cracks apart and falls in slow motion, splintering and exploding in red mist that gets sucked towards the center. Dorkaring leaps down upon falling pieces, one to another as the necks, body, and legs come apart and are drawn up towards the center. Thanks to his immense strength and durable body he is able to leap the final twenty feet to the ground from a floating shell piece. He watches as the mountain sized behemoth vanishes into a red mist that circles into a single point.

 

  The red glowing point flies down and lands in the hand of Rhulan, who is not standing but a few dozen feet away. He watches as she puts the orb into a blackness in her cape, and withdraws her magic sword into a portal.

 

   “Witch!” yells out Dorkaring, leaping from the bushes with his sword.

 

  “The horndog lives,” says Rhulan, “not that I am one to speak about unusual sexual partners.”

 

   He aims his sword at her, “I see your game now, you…did something…caught that monster, and plan to use it as a weapon!”

 

   Rhulan shrugs, “kind of right, but not the way you think.”

 

  “Die!” he yells out slicing at her with Exgladius.

 

  Her arms glows blue as she backhands the blade, shattering it….

 

   Shattering it? Dirt and dust, sandstone shatters in the air. In Dorkaring’s hand is a crumbling sandy hilt.

 

   “What…” starts Dorkaring.

 

  “I used you,” says Rhulan, “I could not touch that sword, don’t worry its back with your dragon lover at the bottom of her lake. It used equal mass transportation and switched with some sediment in the same shape and packed into the same density. Just contacting my aura was enough to send the blade away.”

 

   “Used me?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “Yes,” says Rhulan, “that goddess sealed that Eldritch Abomination well, gems only a mortal could touch as they would move away from one such as I, not that I needed them to travel to the Timeless Lands, but the sinker was always that sword I couldn’t touch, needed to open a door whose barrier would only teleport one such as I away back to the Timeless Lands, and needed to break that seal to open the subspace in which that slumbering horror was imprisoned. In the time it took you to get to it, I was able to stealth fully plant that holy sigil on its back…”

 

   Dorkaring stammers, “wha…huh…I…”

 

  “Anywho,” says Rhulan, “the long short is, I needed someone who could pass those tests to get that sword, only a legendary hero could do that, and to use that sword to free that monster, again something only a legendary hero could do…granted one being tricked to that specific thing rather than just walk away with the sword, and only someone with such power as yours could survive on that thing’s back to distract it long enough to give me a clear shot with the Seraphim Sword, unless I got all give heads at once it would just regenerate…heal really fast….and probably fully wake up from the shock and fly away making the fight a billion times more difficult and destructive.”

 

  “I’m…still a hero?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “Yes,” says Rhulan with a smile and hands on hips, “you are still a hero, you did lots of good deeds, in a rather amusing manner at times, and were key in finishing off a horror just waiting for someone or time its self to erode the seal, before destroying this world. So yes, you have a legendary tale to tell.”

 

   “But…you…she said you were the goddess of chaos.” says Dorkaring.

 

  “Young man,” says Rhulan in a tone that surprises Dorkaring as she sounds like a teacher, “you should never confuse chaos with entropy, chaos is the force that drives change in the universe, entropy…as this monster represents, only seeks destruction.”

 

   With that Rhulan vanishes in a portal leaving Dorkaring to stand in the valley alone.

 

   After a few moments Dorkaring starts to walk.

 

   “I see you are without a sword brave hero,” says a sultry voice in the wind. Several wind Nymphs appear, “we the guardians of the Water Temple saw your great feat, your unrivaled assistance to a deity in defeating the ancient horror. For your bravery we gift you with our bodies and after words will grant you the Silver Sword of Sarma, a mighty blade befitting a mighty hero.

 

   Dorkaring starts to take his tunic and armor off heading towards the meadow filled with Nymphs while saying, “here we go again,” followed by the nymphs giggling.



#2383 Rhuen

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Posted 26 February 2014 - 04:36 PM

an alien animal:

 

 

 

Name: Swamp Mower

 

Type: Grazing creature (mammal and plant like properties)

 

Average Life Span: *unknown*

 

Habitat: The planet Ibliss, native to the swamp and jungle areas of the western region of the north continent and north western of the southern continent.

 

Description: The creature is about the size of a cow, with split hooves and covered in a thick dark green moss like wool, except for the legs and head which are a peach colored skin with green overtones thanks to a greenish fuzz. The head is sheep like.

 

History and Abilities:

  A large herbivore that grazes on grasses, they are basically harmless although skittish as some animals prey on them. It was thought at one time that they would eat the creatures called “Pet Slimes” , then that assumption changed to the Pet Slimes being regarded as a parasite that forced their way into the mouth of the Swamp Mowers. However analysis shows this is a symbiotic thing, the Pet Slime cleans out undigetiable mass from the digestive system of the Swamp Mower, and passes clean through their bodies with neither party being harmed. As strange as it sounds during this time also no predator will touch the Swamp Mowers that have a Pet Slime inside of them. This however is likely due to something from the Pet Slime and not the Swamp Mower.



#2384 Rhuen

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Posted 27 February 2014 - 06:05 PM

a spell:

 

 

Name: Healing Wave

 

Type: Healing

 

Element(s): Divine

 

Power: The World Tree

 

Effect: Heals physical wounds, from light  wounds too regeneration.

 

Special conditions: How much it can heal depends on how much Mana is put into it. It cannot raise the dead, although it could heal a freshly dead body potentially if enough Mana were used, if the soul was gone or their mental energy lost completely the new body would be like a whole new person (an infantile in personality even if adult in body). However that is an extreme version of this spell, its common use is healing light wounds.

 

Incantation:

*holds your arms out over the target and chant*

 

Yig-Dra-Sill-Sae-Rin

 

*repeat chant over and over while concentration on white light energy chakra wave point thread forms*



#2385 Rhuen

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Posted 03 March 2014 - 03:51 PM

a story from the time of the rise of the Rhulan Empire.

 

The Village of Bakunawa

 

 

 

    An impoverished desert nation, a small trading post city among the dunes, not an uncommon sight as where ever a large oasis springs up in this land a town is bound to lay claim to it especially along the roads between the coasts. This trading post however does have one oddity to it, there is a massive wooden gate to a path going up a hill where upon there is a massive white temple shaped like a hanger, a giant long house. Tales of a growing Empire enveloping the world have only recently come to this village, as well as the news that the alien bee people that only ever hassled their southern neighbors have gone as well. Neither thing bothers these people for they are but a humble oasis hamlet that does trade with the nomadic caravans and travelers who pass their way; the loss of the aliens means no more tribute caravans going south for them. They fear however that an encroaching Empire could mean soldiers marching through their village to defend against it. They pray, they pray to an odd idol; for depicted in every home is an alter on on them are a wooden carving; wood being sacred here, of a white fish with a crooked beak jaw and an angler fish’s  lure; some odd cross between an angler fish and a breeding salmon.

 

    Once a year this town holds a massive celebration in honor of their oasis god; said to bring water to the oasis or cause draughts if made unhappy; people from all over come to this party, seemingly tripling the size of the city for the massive drunken celebration. There has been a rumor floating around in the southern city of Azkaban, of people disappearing during this celebration; the possibility of slavers has brought one individual to sneak in among the party goers incognito. Lurking on the fringes of the shadows of the celebration this individual spies a group of men in white robes leading a single drunken woman away from the celebration. The silent figure follows these men as they partake in a most unexpected path, they sneak in through a smaller door in the giant wooden gate leading to the temple.

 

    The men take the drunken woman not into the temple its self with its pews, oceanic scenes and giant alter; no they take her around the temple to a boarded off cave; which opens as a secret gate. Inside they lead her down some dimly lit steps into the damp stone cavern. Before them illuminated by some tiny crystal lights on the ceiling is a giant underground pond, a low hanging ceiling near the back preventing the eyes from seeing that this is but a piece connected to a much larger aquifer. The men holding the barely conscious woman who smiles and looks at the water, “we…going to skinny dip?” she babbles out while men chant.

 

    “Great Bakunawa, mighty god that brings sea to land, mighty lord of refreshing waters, we your humble priests bring you this year’s moon maiden.”

 

    From the depths the monster emerges, a giant white fish like those depicted in the village. The great beast opens its mouth, as the woman blinks trying to focus on the white blur in front of her the men lift her up like a sack of potatoes and fling the now screaming woman into the air. She vanishes, not in the beast’s mouth, just…gone from thin air. One moment she is there the next not.

 

    “What trick is this?” demands the fish, “Where has my sacrifice gone? You dare try to trick the great Bakunawa…I will swallow the moon, bring drought to the land, call upon the winds…”

 

    “She must have been a teleporter my lord,” says the head priest bowing, “forgive us great one we will bring you another sacrifice at once.”

 

    As they head up the stairs the head priest says, “Find that woman and kill her, we don’t need some bitch bringing trouble here, and find another…”

 

    They stop at the entrance of the cave as sitting cross-legged in the middle of the desert night, down in the sand between the cave entrance and the blind side of the temple away from the village is a woman. A woman clad in tight black clothes that reveal her cleavage and midriff; her dark red hair blowing in the gentle breeze, dancing over her dark cape with its black back and red inner lining as she is in apparent meditation. The men surround her, a few guards called out from the temple front, dumbfounded how anyone got past them, aim pikes at her.

 

    “You are coming with us.” Says the head priest.

 

    “Why,” says the woman nonchalantly, “are you sacrificing people to that creature?”

 

    “So you know,” says the head priest, “very well girl, since you will be the great Bakunawa’s next meal. That…creature…is our god. He brings us water, wealth, and protects us from evil spirits. When our village was young he gave us the oasis, all he asks for in return is one human sacrifice a year, and it doesn’t even have to be from our own village.”

 

    The woman stands, “take me to this monster,”

 

    One of the guards turns his head in the silent night towards the village and says, “Sir…”

 

    “Take her to Bakunawa.”

 

    “Sir…” says the guard with a concerned look on his face.

 

    “Now!” demands the head priest.

 

    With pikes aimed at her back the woman is lead to the cave, two guards and the priests go down while the rest remain at the cave entrance.

 

    “Ah a healthy one,” says the fish monster seeing the bosom woman.

 

   The woman’s eyes glow blue as she looks past the monster and below she says seemingly ignoring the fish, “I see, this is a precursor construction, a self repairing plant of some sort. I see massive underwater chambers, valves, heh…all this monster has figured out is how to shut off the valves feeding your oasis.

 

    “Throw the liar in!” demands the fish

 

    They can’t move, they had not noticed till now, some invisible force has glued them in space.

 

    “Human sacrifice,” says the woman, “is illegal under the law of the Rhulan Empire, as its empress I should know.”

 

    She smiles back at the men, recollection of hearing of this expanding empire coming to them.

 

    “we have already seized the village,” she says, “all that is left then is to dispose of this creature.”

 

    “Insolenece!” yells out the fish thrashing about, “I am the great Bakunawa, god of the sea and bringer of destruction. Oppose me and it will be a great cataclysm upon the land!”

 

    The glowing lure on its head glows brighter, becoming a blue-purple flame. It flings its lure throwing the fireball at Rhulan. She raises her hand catching the fire ball. It shrinks, constricted into a tiny orb and crystallized in her hand. She pops it into her mouth and swallows it.

 

    “Tasty fish,” she says eyeing the monster as a cat would to a goldfish bowl.

 

    If a fish’s eyes can be said to widen, this one’s did their best.

 

    Rhulan raises her hand saying, “Illuminate the darkness!”

 

    The crystal lights grow brighter, fully lighting up the area, making it plainly visible all the pipes and artificial structures beneath the water; this is not a lake but a holding tank.

 

    “Guard or mutation,” says Rhulan as she steps out onto the water’s surface, “for the crimes you have commited I sentence you to death.”

 

    The fish dives.

 

    “That won’t work,” says Rhulan gesturing upwards slightly with her fingers. The water churns and the fish is dragged to the surface. She taps the surface with her foot sending a blue fiery energy wave over the surface. The water is not frozen yet the fish can not move. She summons forth a silver sword as she walks over to the fish.

 

    “No…NO!” yells the fish trying to struggle, “Listen! I…I am ancient! I know things! Secrets! You can’t kill me! I…I’m a god!....Bringer of cataclysms if you…”

 

   “I am the goddess of Cataclyms,” says Rhulan as her blade comes down.

 

  ******

 

   Outisde, the priests dragged up the stairs via telekinesis, they are met by soldiers holding the guards prisoner.

 

   “How…” mutters the priest noticing an angry look from one of his guards out here that confuses him.

 

   “Idiots,” says Rhulan. She points at the guard that had tried to warn them earlier, “I do believe this man was trying to tell you it was too quiet earlier.”

 

    “The…celebration…” mutters the head priest as his eyes go wide remembering coming up, focused on the escaped sacrifice and finding this strange woman just sitting there.

 

    She indicates the man to her soldiers, “take him away for questioning, as the smartest one here clearly he may be of some use.”

 

    “Tell them nothing!” yells the priest

 

    Rhulan grabs the priest by his throat while the others are forced to their knees, “You are truly a fool,”

 

    “I…” chokes the man, “I will not talk…even in death lord Bakunawa…”

 

    “I don’t need you talk,” says Rhulan, “I am a sorceress you imbecile. I could rip the information of your sins from your mind, I could conjure up a mirror of truth, I could just kill you and raise your body to speak…for dead men cannot lie.”

 

    She tosses him to the ground, “Soldiers, these men have commited the crime of human sacrifice, caught in the act.”

 

    She gestures a short distance away, a great blue sigil appears. The guard being lead away is even stopped and allowed to watch as a giant platter appears from the ground, surrounded in utensils, dipping bowls, and various appetiziers, and sitting in the middle of this is the fish monster, its body carved up and cooked as food, however it…is still alive. Its tail shakes weakly, and its mouth gasps, the sliced up sides being the only cooked parts.

 

    The head priest is in tears as memories of all they have done for this god floods back to him, to see their awe inspiring figure they would preach about every third day in the temple to the entire village laid out like this, after such a one sided battle against this woman.

 

******

 

    The celebration was still there, only silent as the village had been surrounded by the army of the Rhulan Empire; the people told that a slave ring was suspected to be at work in the area, takeing advantage of this party. No one suspected what they would see, the temple priests lead in chains down to the edge of the oasis, followed by a levitating platter with the village’s god in the middle of it, and Rhulan floating above it.

 

    Reaching the edge of the oasis she channels her voice to speak like the thunder, “People of this land, I am the Empress Rhulan, your village, as well as the rest of this country is now part of the empire. You will be allowed to keep your local customs and beliefs so long as nothing you do is against Imperial Law.”

 

    She aims a black staff with a red jewel in its top down at the priests and the platter, “These men, have for an as yet unknown, yet under investigation, period of time commited the crime of human sacrifice…to this monster…which posed as a god. The monster is being punished for the horrors it has committed against our kind, treating us Aesperians as food is unforgivable! As punishment it shall live in agony as we consume its flesh! Or rather, those who fed people to it…shall consume…its rather toxic flesh.”

 

    “We will not!” yells up the high priest, “my people! I implore you…this is our god here…still alive despite this demon’s attempts to kill it! Rise up, we can win we can…”

 

    The people’s silence and confussion startles him.

 

    The woman they had tried to feed to it is standing there, with guards around her, not Rhulan’s soldiers though.

 

    The woman looks up to Rhulan and bows, as she does so her guards bow, although they are a bit concerned, as do a number of other people in the crowd.

 

    “I,” says the woman, *hic*, “Anajana; Princess of Azkaban, vow loyalty to Empress Rhulan and the Rhulan Empire.”

 

    The villagers, even if some of them wanted to oppose this woman and save their priests and…god…are out numbered three to one by people from other towns and cities who came here, including the very kingdom whose princess traveling incognito herself the priests had tried to feed to a giant fish, to die horribly being digested alive, this she told her guards who spread the word. The villagers experienced it, if not for the Rhulan Imperial Army being there the Azkaban soldiers and citizens enjoying the celebration might have torn this village and its occupents apart.

 

    “Very well,” says Rhulan with a smile knowing they wouldn’t willingly eat this thing, “I will instead…show my mercy, my benevolence, I will hand over the mortal accused to Azkaban, to be tried and sentenced under local law, seeing as it was the local royalty they tried to murder via being fed alive and digested alive to a giant monster fish.”

 

    Her wicked smile tells them they are going to suffer a worse fate than death by poisonous fish meat.

 

   “As for the monster,” says Rhulan.

 

   “I…” coughs out the fish, surprising and terrifying the people, “I…am…god…I…am…Baku…nawa…I…”

 

    “Great Idea!” shouts Rhulan clapping her hands with a happy tone that is even more surprising.

 

   She aims her staff at the moon, “Spirits of the Inifite, masters of time and space, open the gates to the realm of dragons, I summon forth Bakunawa!”

 

   *gasps* escape the entire village, and a *gasp* from the fish monster.

 

    The moon turns blue, and opens as sliding doors, vanishing in darkness. From above appears a great blue serpent with red whiskers and eagle claws, four wings adorn its back as it descends from the heavens.

 

    “Who summons me! Who summons the Eclipse Bringer!” demands the sky scraper sized dragon whose floating coiled form fills the sky above the village, it merely landing it is clear could crush the entire village.

 

    “I Rhulan the Celestial Sorceress summon you!”

 

 

    Bakunawa looks down, “Ah…mother of Cataclysms, bringer of chaos, creator and destroyer, I know you.”

 

    It bows its head towards her, “What may I humbly do for you, oh Mistress of Magic, slayer of six unspeakable horrors whom even us gods fear.”

 

    A god has been summoned, the largest creature these people have ever seen, and it has bowed its head humbly to this woman before them.

 

   “Enough pleasentries,” says Rhulan, “Dragon of the Eclipse, beneath you is a platter, upon it is a monster that has been fed the flesh of my people by filth who believed its lies, for its crime I give this fish which has impersonated and brought shame upon your great name to you!”

 

   The dragon is hesitant, “Is…the flesh inside it now?”

 

    “No,” says Rhulan, “I would not permit this sin to continue…we also checked it while preparing it. I can harbor no ill will towards you for consuming it.”

 

    The dragon smiles as the platter levitates. Platter and all disappear into the dragon’s mouth.

 

    Rhulan turns to the people, while pointing at the dragon, “That is the real Bakunawa, your god has been eaten alive by a larger creature, just as it has done to your people over the years. This night shall no longer be a night where criminals most foul celebrate that monster and use your night of fun and happiness as a cover to commit murder most foul. This night is now a celebration! A celebration of freedom from that beast. The oasis will still flow as we take control of the waterway the monster mastered! Now go…and celebrate!”

 

    The dragon returns to the sky, the priests are hauled away by Azkaban soldiers, and that night the Azkaban princess shared the bed of her new Empress, truly showing her appreciation for her life being saved and her land freed from the terror of a man eating monster.

 

******

 

 

    In the time to come the temple would be leveled, replaced by a research station of the Rhulan Empire; for their scientists would discover that the underground water way is indeed a Precursor built Desalinization plant channeling water all the way from the sea to the east and feeding it to areas that were once major population zones throughout the area.  The monster, which somehow was sentient, a fact alone Rhulan would not be pleased with as she had been under the impression this world had no native sentient life forms (another research project would be born from that); had been controlling the gates, not just for this one village that was closest to its surfacing point; but that the priests of the village had demanded sacrifices of other foods for the fish the rest of the year to provide limited water for them.

 

    “Makes you wander,” says a scientist reading the report to Empress Rhulan.

 

    “Wander what exactly?” asks Rhulan.

 

    “Well your majesty,” says the scientist, “how exactly this supposedly ancient monster was feeding prior to people showing up. I mean the water ways filter out organisms of all kinds. This water is so pure in the tanks that the release systems have to add minerals to make it healthy enough to drink, nothing, not even the lowest levels of the food chain could survive in there.

 

    “A monster,” says Rhulan, “check the system logs for the outgoing filtration systems and no doubt you will find it polluted by compounds adding up to the full remains of all the food and wasted lives fed to this thing in their entirety.”

 

    The scientist is silent as he looks over the paperwork, while Rhulan continues, “Precursor creations have a tendency to be self repairing. This…corrupted bio-unti…was no doubt just passing them fully through its body, killing…”

 

      She growls through her teeth, “without so much as it even being neccissary, it was not an animal or some hungry creation that was turned to human flesh…it was truly a monster.”

 

    After she leaves the room, with no one around Rhulan whispers to herself, “Another Precursor installation alright, another seemingly immortal biological entity they left behind. How’d we miss all this? Did the Stingers actually invade so soon after I left that scouts couldn’t find these places? No…I was here for like two decades we found…a few…but how are there still so many hidden underground and still functioning after two million years? Let alone cloaked from outside detection?”

Story time:



#2386 Rhuen

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Posted 05 March 2014 - 06:41 PM

an alien animal:

 

Name: Grass Fiends

 

Type: Weasel like plant structure organism

 

Average Life Span: *unknown*

 

Habitat: The planet Ibliss, native to the grass plains in the central northern continent.

 

Description: They resemble weasels in size and shape, except the are green and what passes for fur is structurally closer to grass.

 

History and Abilities:

   They are small predatory creatures in their environment, while they can use photosynthesis during the day resting like lumps on the ground, at night they actively hunt. Due to their size and limited animal strength they pose no threat to human life, and in fact have been imported to some colonies as pets. Unfortunatly they lack much in intelligence and are more like pet lizards than say ferrets.



#2387 Rhuen

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Posted 06 March 2014 - 05:00 PM

Cataclysms of Rhulan:

Firstly we will go into (what) the Cataclysms of Rhulan are, to go into specific detail as into how they function, the specific mystical and dimensional properties would be too technical and take far longer than is needed; the jist of it is they are elemental transformations in which Rhulan’s immense mystical power is focused into a specific element for a time. They are triggered and learned initially when Rhulan absorbs too much of a specific magical element at once, her astral body adapts rather than overloads by creating these transformations; after which she can use them whenever she wants.These transformations can be minor or great, often involving a mood shift or even personality shift on Rhulan’s part to fit the element. These moods are part of the reason she named these transformations “Cataclysms” because they are hard to control (pure lust, rage, pride, ect… or some unbalanced mix of various emotions and personality types), and because of the pure raw power they unleash. Combining the power and personalities with little to no qualms about using that element its hard to imagine a better name than “Cataclysm”.

 

We will look in detail at each one, in its basic form. Some Cataclysms have been documented to also have a secondary form, often described as a “Beast” form that is even more unstable personality wise going literally wild and out of control for a time. She has given each transformation its own name. It should be noted that for most of her Cataclysms knowing what order she first learned them is a bit of a mystery and honestly not really important.

 

and one Cataclysm

 

Type: Astral

 

Name: Violet Phoenix

 

 

Description of form: Rhulan undergoes no real transformation, not physically, likely due to this being her base power. A mystic violet aura covers her body and expands out into the shape of a giant bird (described as eagle or corvid like in appearance). This mystic energy distorts reality around her acting both as a defense and offense. She will generally ram into enemies and emit powerful “Mystic Destroyer” level blasts from the mouth, claws, wings, and any other part of the body as well as various other “Mystic” type attacks.

 

First occurrence chronologically in canon: This was Rhulan’s first cataclysm, it happened when she was less than 100 years old in her native universe *Reality-Q* during the Bio-War (war against bioship and bioweapon using aliens from outside the Galaxy). She had pushed herself so hard during a siege and was cornered that she just lost herself for a moment to her power and “need” to not die and let others die as well. She tore apart the alien ship and their entire armada in that area in only an instant before nearly fainting and finding herself and her crew teleported to a safe planet by her power.

 

A second form?: Documentation is sketchy on this, as some claim this form can suddenly “implode” and transform into a metal skinned woman with a mask like/nearly featureless face and violet mystic flame hair, the metal skin able to change color and shape at will, however as this also can be used to describe some energy based or otherwise cosmic alien races it’s possible that sightings were of them matching her violet phoenix energy output and not actually Rhulan. Or Rhulan using a different polymorph spell to take on their likeness to fool others.



#2388 Rhuen

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Posted 08 March 2014 - 02:26 PM

Another Cataclysm of Rhulan:

 

 

Type: Fire

 

Name: The Inferno Queen

 

Description of form: The iris of her eyes become a fiery red, her hair becomes wavy and red, and her skin becomes tan with a red aura glow over her body. Her clothes change to red leather boots, a red short cut leather shorts, a red leather bra-corset top, and sometimes a red cape with a flame pattern at the bottom (once seen with red gloves and a vest).

 

   Her powers all become fire themed even if not actually fire based. Her mastery over all flames both mundane and magical, as well as plasma and heat in general becomes absolute. It is believed she could burn out an entire atmosphere if she so wished in this form; given that in her normal state she can used the spell (Demiurge of Ra) which summons a full scale fire hurricane it is a fare assumption her fire cataclysm form could do even greater fire based attacks.

 

First occurrence chronologically in canon: During a fight with a powerful demon which she was winning against it decided as a last ditch effort to teleport them both into the fiery space between worlds in Hell. This demonic hell fire was absorbed by Rhulan and triggered into this new form.

 

A second form?: It barely qualifies as a second form and can be seen as just an extended version of the first, she created a pair of backwards red dragon forms on her head, a pair of “Red Shadow Wings” like Shadow Wings only red *bat shape no structure details*, and a red triangular tipped demon tail. The wings and tail can extend and change shape, at this time her entire eye balls glow and spit out fire and her teeth grow sharp. Her tongue also becomes long and prehensile. She becomes angrier and more lustful, delighting in killing her enemies to the point it seems to excite her sexually, she will often seek out a sexual partner after battles when in this state before she will willingly turn back to normal.

 

   She has referred to this form as (The Red Hot Fire Demon).

 

*Note: This and her Solar Plasma cataclysm should not be confused for each other, even if it seems redundant for her to have two heat and combustion based Cataclysms. Some specialists have theorized that this form was based on exposure to “Hell Fire” while the Solar Plasma form exposure to basic high energy matter.



#2389 Rhuen

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Posted 10 March 2014 - 01:58 PM

Story time:

 

Conquest of Espara ch.01

 

  A tiny craggy island, a tiny village, a small hut with lights inside and smoke rising from the chimney. Inside an old woman sits by the fire, head to toe covered in grey dusty robes, sitting beside her chair a cane with a birds skull and feathers all about it. Outside the freezing wind howls like a hungry demon in search of prey.

 

   “Gather around children,” says the old woman to a group of ten kids, all the children of the village gathered together in the warmest of the buildings their tiny village has, with the one true fire their small island can afford to build with what little wood they can spare and drift wood they can gather. The year had been bad, as the wood sellers on nearby islands have upped their prices, the fishermen didn’t need to travel as nearly as far as their merchants to gather it; it was hard enough to buy wood to keep their ships and homes intact let alone stuff to burn through the winter.

 

   The children were so covered in furs and coats that one could hardly tell their genders, even from their filthy faces.

 

  “Tonight,” says the old woman, “I will tell you the story of the seven divine heroes,”

 

  “Not this again,” says a boy in the group.

 

  “Hush up,” says a burly man sitting at a table some distance away, a warrior, one of those in charge of protecting the village’s future, and keeping the older kids in line.

 

  “Long ago,” says the old woman, “a great evil witch came to our world from the stars, her eyes shone like blue fire, lightning danced in her hands, she stood upon the very air its self, and the darkness its self was her clothing, what little there was.”

 

   “She wore very little…yet it was shadows…” says a girl, “so she was just naked?”

 

  The burly man glares but the old woman just *laughs*, “she was a shameless witch, evil is like that you see.”

 

   “but she was beautiful,” says the girl.

 

   “Migdra,” says the man.

 

  “calm down, Borlack,” says the old woman glaring at him with one eye, “I remember a little boy who wouldn’t keep shouting during the tale of the Guardians of the Mountain.”

 

   “Yes my dear,” says the woman back to the girl, “she was beautiful, a shameless beauty, but it was only a mask that hid her true evil. She walked upon the water, burned castles to the ground, fell the greatest of dragons with a single blow, monsters and man even put aside our differences to fight back against her. It is then that the seven divine heroes arrived. There was a battle greater than anything ever seen before or since. The night sky lit up like day, fire became as birds, water as snakes, lightning flashed in mad confusion unsure of which master to obey. However, as evil can never win, the seven divine heroes were able to seal the vile witch into a crystal and drop her into the southern ocean.”

 

   “that’s stupid,” says a boy, “why not just kill her,”

 

   “because she was immortal,” says the old woman, “oh how I have become forgetful in my old age, yes of course, she was immortal. The battle raged on and on for days none stop, the mountains were burned, entire islands sank beneath the waves, unable to kill the vile witch the divine heroes were forced to instead trap her in a crystal and drop her into the sea. We know of this tale only because of Falfa one of the seven who came to our land, to our island in fact, and bestowed here one of the seven great seals that keep the ancient witch imprisoned in her crystal tomb. It is a great magic spread across the world like invisible chains.”

 

   She reaches into her robe and pulls out a black diamond shape object, something that could be a gem or metal, “this is the seal passed down by Falfa to all the great seers and story keepers of our island. A great power flows through it children, and someday one of you might even become its protector.”

 

   The girl, Migdra, her eyes focus upon the sealing stone hanging from its chain, a strand of her dark hair falling from her fur hood, the fire light dancing in her eyes.

 

    ******

 

   -many years later-

 

    “that’s her,” says a rifleman peering through a telescope.

 

   Below them in the distance is a most unusual sight a woman of lithe build yet full breasts with long hair as black as midnight set against skin nearly as white as the snow around them. She is wearing only a simple white gown that couldn’t protect anyone against the frost of winter. She carries with her a staff, carved into it are the sigils of many a demon and unclean spirit of the wilderness showing her devotion to the dark arts. The staff is tipped with a wooden spike wrapped in carved tentacles like some strange spear. She walks bear foot through the snow, where her feet fall and her gown drags the snow is melted away only to magically reform as she passes leaving a strange trail of snow softer than the rest.

 

   “The witch of the North Woods,” says a swordsman behind the riflemen who is the scout for a small band of five royal hunters plus himself.

 

   “careful,” says the rifleman, “I know these woods, and I know of this witch. She is not some simple curse caster. She has bedded herself with many a vile demon, always searching for a greater dark master to serve and bed. She is a shameless sorceress, and a thief.”

 

   He hands the telescope to the swordsman leading the royal hunters, “look there around her neck.”

 

   She is wearing a black stone, like a gem or unknown metal.

 

  “that is the sacred treasure of my homeland,” says the man, “that witch comes from an island neighbor to my own. She stole it as a bargaining tool, everyone knows she seeks to find the Queen of the Abyss and make a pact with that most evil of spirits.”

 

   “Who gives a shit,” says one of the men in the back, “she’s an evil witch, casting evil spells, in OUR kingdom, the law is clear we catch her, she goes to trial, she dies, simple as that, and your evil rock can be cast in the sea.”

 

   “Then I will help you no more,” says the rifleman, “I will hunt her myself, after you so foolishly charge her and are killed, I will move in when she thinks she has dispatched all her pursuers.”

 

  “Don’t be so hasty,” says the swordsman, “you can have your stone as payment.”

 

  “Sarge…” starts the man in the back.

 

  “Be silent and that’s an order,” says the swordsman.

 

  After their hired tracker, the man with the flintlock rifle heads off to scout a path the swordsman tells his men, “that stone is just some worthless trinket those northern heathens hold sacred. Soon enough their king will convert to the faith of Garudan and they will have to follow suite, remember we aren’t missionaries, we are hunters, and being rid of these vile witches from our islands is far more important than convincing some revenge obsessed tracker that he’s wrong and we’re right.”

  

     ******

 

    A man’s scream draws the royal hunters quickly from their hiding spots towards a cave. The rifleman lay dead upon the ground, is entrails hanging out and blood coloring the snow. Upon the man’s chest sits a horrid beast covered in thorns its unnaturally wide maw of vibrating fangs holding what remains of the man’s poor heart. Its sits upon the still warm corpse in the snow like a perch before a deep dark cave. A chanting and a glow from within spurns the royal hunters to act quickly with little thought. They are easily enough able to kill the beast which must have taken their scout by surprise or else the witch killed him with her vile evil magic.

 

   They traveled through the dark cave, far deeper yet oddly never darker than at the entrance, than any cave they had known to exist on their islands. The men grew restless urged on by their commanding officer even as their navigator from the boat, come with as part of the hunting party points out that by this distance they should be in the sea beyond the cliffs. Yet turning back those men that gaze behind them always see the entrance not far away. The air grows different as they walk, hotter, humid. Their clothes become a burden as the air grows far more stifling than any summer these men have ever known in their lifetimes. They are forced to abandon their heavy coats as they go deeper.

 

   “an underground hot spring?” offers the navigator sure that the light behind them must be a reflection from mirrored walls tricking them.

 

   “By the great God Garudan!” exclaims their captain as ahead of them out of nowhere as if a curtain had been raised the sun blasts them in the face.

 

   They are standing upon a sandy beach, palm trees, and the sound of seagulls. They know from sailor’s tales that they must be far to the south on one of the tropical islands. But how could only be explained by witchcraft.

 

   “No wander the witch was so ill dressed for the winter,” says the navigator, “of course her fiery master would prefer such a hellishly hot place as this.”

 

   “If this is Hell,” says one of the men, “then I wander how much greater heaven must be.”

 

  “Tis not hell,” says the captain, “this is a tropical island, that cave is bewitched.”

 

  “Listen,” says the navigator.

 

  Not far away they can hear the moans of a woman in sexual bliss. They are silent as they creep along the rocky edges towards the sound. Upon a rock overlooking the sea is the Witch of the North Woods, her gown open exposing her ample chest, flat stomach, and legs to the open air. Her legs are spread apart facing the surf, her staff is between them, its tip inserted into her womanhood.

 

  The captain nods to the sand by his feet as they move behind out of sight hidden among the tall ferns. The navigator picks it up, it is the thing their scout had been so obsessed about. Except it is open.

 

   “the thing was a locket.” says the captain in a hushed whisper as he and his men watch the witch masturbate with her staff upon the rocks even as the waves wash over her like a harsh lover. Something is glittering around her, seven colors, one color per each part of the rainbow.

 

  The captain peers with the telescope, “she has seven gem stones embedded in the rocks around her, must be some witchery that makes them shine.”

 

   The navigator holds up the locket, “there are seven spaces inside here, I reckon those were in here.”

 

   “So much for just some trinket,” says the man in the back.

 

  “Hush it,” says the captain, afraid the witch might hear them.

 

  As they sneak across the sand they stop dead in their tracks as a giant phantom appears before the woman. It is not clear what it is, save that it is a giant woman with large breasts, the body merging into the sea spray, and what might be long hair in ten stiff braids that goes the length of her back. The image is made of mist and wind and hard to make out. A sigil forms beneath the witch.

 

  Black tentacles like those from some horrid octopus or squid from the depths of the darkest seas appear from the glowing sigil. Her phallic staff falls free as a tentacle squirms to replace it, its living motion, its wriggling excitement bring her to ecstasy. Many other tentacles appear of varying thickness and size, some with and some without suction cups. They move in and out of the sigil like water as they wrap around her legs, abdomen, and arms, seemingly chaining her down to the rock. They wrap so thickly around her as if to cocoon her body in them. Her breasts are pulled on and squeezed, suction cups upon her tits and undulating motions over her mounds massaging them. Another rises up to her face, a smooth one and flat like a tongue of some sort. The witch opens her mouth and sucks it in, sucking upon it.

 

 

 

 

   Suddenly the tongue like tentacle pulls free quickly and vanishes. She is lifted into the air and flung violently into the sand of the beach not far from the frozen still men. Not paying them any attention the witch is wide eyed and crying, “No…”

 

   She touches her mouth with her finger tips, “No…”

 

  She looks back at the ocean mist phantom, “Great Goddess forgive me!”

 

  The form sways, gaining some definition, glowing blue angry looking eyes.

 

  “I was pursued,” she says, even pointing at the men, “I…I made a rash decision, I summoned a demon…the pact…the kiss…”

 

   “None shall pact with me,” says the ocean mist in the voice of a goddess queen, “who are not clean from temptation of demons. Though your body may be washed this time, your mouth betrays you with the foul flavor of low class filth.”

 

   “A sacrifice,” says the witch, “I bring you a sacrifice! I can free you!”

 

  The mist turns to the men, “mortals are as nothing, their lives mere specks of light in the blazing sun that is the eternal flame of my existence.”

 

   The witch digs her long nails into her own crotch, blood from her intimacy spills into the sand as she chants words that are not loud yet sting the ears of the hunters.

 

   The blood forms into a sigil and a burst of flame explodes on the beach.

 

   “Witch of the North Woods,” comes a deep booming voice, the embodiment of masculinity, from the flames as a giant great muscular demon with black bull horns and a face like a boar, legs of a goat, and the dick of a horse emerges.

 

   “You are my bitch,” says the demon, “I the great Eckraick.”

 

  “Eckraick the devil,” says the captain, “guide your eyes men from this unholy sight!”

 

  The Witch stands, arms out and approaches the phantom, “Great One, Mighty Goddess that sleeps in the deep sea, imprisoned by the divine heroes. I give you my sacrifice, the source of all my magic! Eckraick!.”

 

   The devil laughs, his voice heating the air even hotter, the men feel they are about to die.

 

  “Woman,” says the demon, “you are my bitch! In life and in death, your soul will be mine to violate for all eternity if I so wish, and you dare try to give me as a sacrifice to this? This phantom of nothing, this lie told to bring hope to children!”

 

  He forms a massive fireball in his hands, dark electric bolts dance around it, “Dark Phim Gorant!”

 

   He throws it at the phantom. The mist explodes, the sea steams. The demon laughs as nothing remains. Nothing save the gems as they grow brighter. The men dart back as something emerges from the sigil, something accompanied by a sound like breaking glass. A woman emerges, a human torso at least, skin as smooth as eel skin, white as snow, tits white as the rest of her flesh. Her eyes shine like blue flames. Her hair is not hair, rather its is ten long stiff black spear tip like tentacles with a black membrane connecting them atop and behind her head. Her fingers are long and tipped with claws. As she fully emerges her lower body is a mass of black tentacles, ten big fat ones. She crawls from the rock onto the shore, and howls into the wind.

 

  “Free! At long last I am free!”

 

  Her fingers become as tentacles and wrap around the witch as the tentacles had when she was on the rock, “Clever little witch,” she says, “to use the demon’s arrogance and power to power the seal’s lock to release me, as your unclean sexual magic has failed to do so often!”

 

   The creature squeezes her tighter then drops her. The creature grasps the sides of her head in agonizing pain.

 

  “Who…what…who am I?” screams the creature.

 

  Eckraick the demon king makes a gesture and the witch is flung across the sand into the ferns at the feet of the men, “hunters of my brother Garudan, take this traitor if you wish. But let her see first the power of the one who shall claim her soul for all eternity!”

 

   It breaths deep and spews forth a wall of fire that moves like a snake encircling and engulfing the creature from the sea.

 

   Inside the flames one can see the form diminish, shriveling away. One of the men grabs the witch by the hair, “come on, you are coming with us.”

 

 

 

  They and Eckraick stop in surprise as a mighty boisterous laugh erupts from the flames. They dance about and become a ring around someone new. A woman built similar to the sea born creature, only in human proportions with long legs. Her hair is a fiery red and wavy, her eyes red, her skin a strange glowing white with a red aura about it. Her clothes are beyond alien. A red leather top barely holding her breasts in place, red short denim like hot pants that barely cover her ass and barely descend her legs, so tight in the front as to outline her crotch. She is wearing high heeled red boots with a flame pattern on then.

 

   “Who are you!?” demands the demon.

 

   She turns to the tree line, “now, now, boys, that little witch wants to my plaything remember? Not about to let her fall victim to your silly little religion’s back and forth nonsense.”

 

   “Silly!” yells out the navigator.

 

  “Flames from my soul, spread out and engulf the vegetation!” commands the fiery woman. Fire streaks across the ground and engulfs the plant life, its heat felt by no one as it consumes all the vegetation around them and returns to her like fiery tendrils that had just fed for her.

 

   She *snaps* her fingers and a fiery wave engulfs the witch. She vanishes, another appears next to her and the witch is there.

 

  “Fire Wave teleportation,” says the woman.

 

 “What impudent creature is this!” yells out Eckraick, “how dare you ignore me! The great,”

 

  “Shut up already,” says the woman with a sneer and a flick of her hair, “I am the Cataclysm of Fire, the Inferno Queen! I should thank you demon, your power was used to free me, and your attack cleared my head. A few centuries in that Eldritch trap and I’ll be damned if I my Cataclysm of Water’s beast transformation hadn’t taken hold. Stay in that form too long and I’m just a sexual deviant tentacle monster.”

 

   She looks down at the witch, “make no mistake girly, I AM going to fuck your brains out like you wanted. After a good bath of course.”

 

   She turns to the demon and makes a *shoo* motion, “Now go away already…unless you want to die here and now.”

 

   The demon laughs loudly, shaking the very air and vibrating the sand, “You certainly think highly of yourself. I know who YOU are now. You are that witch that came here so long ago, the one those alien heroes fought and sealed in the ocean. I had heard you had found a way to trick some south island witches to feed their magic to you, to sacrifice demons to you, before my brother’s church was able to put a stop to it. Seems these mortals,”

 

  He indicates the hunters, “were not thorough enough in their job.”

 

   “What is going on?” asks the navigator, “why is the devil defending Garudan’s teachings?”

 

  “You bore me,” says the fiery woman, “I will give you till the count of nothing to go away.”

 

  “Dark Phim Garant!” yells out the demon as it tosses a dark energy charged fireball at her.

 

  She holds out her hand and the ball unravels, dark energy and all and flows into her hand.

 

  “Idiot,” says the fiery woman, “I am the Inferno Queen in this form, although I imagine using fire against you would have a similar effect. So perhaps the Cataclysm of Water is better suited.”

 

  “Did you not say witch,” says the demon, “that, that last form was the Cataclysm of Water? And yet I defeated it soundly did I not? Beg for mercy and pledge yourself to me, give your flesh to me for my pleasure and I will forgive your impudence.”

 

   She looks him up and down, “Sicko, I wouldn’t let you touch me with that horse dick if you gave me the power to kick Zhanon in the balls and dance on Sahralia’s tits.”

 

   She steps over the witch who is still laying on the ground, so shocked and frightened that she can’t even stand.

 

   “Now behold the true Cataclysm of Water, Ocean Queen Tsunami!”

 

  A blue sigil forms below them and water rushes up her body. In an instant she has changed, her aura blue now. Her boots replaced by blue high heels, her hot pants by a blue bikini bottom and a white and blue wave pattern shawl wrapped around her waist and going down one side on her thigh. Her red breast plate replaced by a blue bikini top and a white and blue wave pattern vest that isn’t sitting naturally on her, more like floating on her body. Her hair is now blue and while still wavy not as wavy and looks a bit longer as a result. Her eyes are a brilliant blue, as are her lips.

 

   “Worthless,” says the demon, “Dark Phim Garant!”

 

  “Ocean Become my Sword!”

 

  She manifests a blade somehow made of water and moving like a raging storm is inside its solid shape. She stabs the ball, which vanishes like a shockwave. In the commotion the men have made a break for it back to the cave, fleeing for their lives.

 

   She raises the sword, “Poseidon, Oceanus, Susanoo, Neira, and all the gods of the sea, in thy great names engulf the land!”

 

   Nothing happens, the demon eyes her and takes a deep breath.

 

  “Coral Barrier of Ryujin-Oh”

 

  She raises the sword and pink and blue bubble that looks so fragile forms around her and the witch lifting them slightly up. The woman floating in the bubble, the witch held in it. The witch closes her eyes as the demon blasts his fire around them, yet she feels no heat.

 

   The watery woman smiles, “chains of Glipnir bind the demon fast.”

 

  Gossamer threads erupt around Eckraick and hold him tight.

 

  “What foolishness is this?” demands the demon, “Holding me won’t…”

 

  He looks to the sea in terror; he had not noticed that the tide was going out, too far out.

 

  “Engulf…the…land…” says the demon, who is now struggling violently against the chains.

 

  “Damned witch, how…how is this possible?!”

 

  The woman projects her voice from the bubble, “The beast was so massive that its head scraped against the dome of heaven, its maw consumed the king of the gods in the final days before being killed by the prince of heaven. Held from near the dawn of their age till the end by the very chains that hold you now.”

 

  She makes a little waving motion with her fingers, “bye bye,” as the roar of a massive tsunami bears down on them. The wave completely swallows the tiny island. The demon is smothered by the water and its force, the bubble floats a great distance on the wave. The men in the cave managed to reach the other end just as the sound of roaring came through. They ran leaving the body of the scout on the ground. They barely managed to get out of the way before a massive torrent of sea water shot from the wave flooding the area. The cave gives off a white light and caves in. the water stopping at that same moment.

 

   The witch had passed out during the commotion, when she comes to she is lying back on the sand and there is a weight on her. She looks up, blinking in the bright light shining through the soapy bubble to see the blue woman on top of her. As she blinks the woman changes, the aura vanishes, her lips become red, her hair becomes straight and a dark blood red, her top shifts into a black corset like top, her bottom shifts into black leather shorts, and her shows become calf length black high heeled boots as black as everything else she is wearing.

 

   The woman touches the bubble and it pops like any bubble would. She gets off the witch and helps her up.

 

   “So tell me,” says the woman, “what’s your name kid.”

 

  “I…” the woman shakes her head and tries to stand tall, “I am the Witch of the North Woods.”

 

  “Yeah and I was the tentacle monster that molested you on like seven occasions as you tried each time to take it further by being…cleaner…each time to gain my favor…no what is your actual name?”

 

   “Migdra,” says the witch, “my name is Migdra…and you…you really are the Goddess of the Abyss?”

 

   “What a dumb title,” says the woman, “my name is Rhulan, I’m a sorceress, although evidence suggests I’m also some kind of dark chaos goddess too…eh…those hypocritical assholes sealed me inside a crystal this time and dumped me in the sea.”

 

   Rhulan gets a vicious look on her face and shakes her fist, “Next time I see those guys I am kicking their asses straight into a sun! They will beg me not to erase their entire civilization from the face of all existence!”

 

   She stops and smiles, “unless of course they return my cape to me…damn assholes aren’t as dumb as they look…despite all appearances and lack of a dress code it seems…they figured out my cape was my trick…but how…”

 

  Rhulan looks at Migdra, “my cape can’t have left this world. They must have locked it away somewhere.”

 

  “Is…is it special?” asks Migdra nervous not sure how to act…mostly prepared at any moment for this Goddess to seal the pact and shoot tentacles out and fuck her crazy.

 

   “Indeed,” says Rhulan with a mischievous smile, “there is more magic in that cape than all the witches…including you…I have seen in all these centuries on this trick of a named world.”

 

   “Huh?” asks Migdra.

 

  “Espara,” says Rhulan, “sounds so much like…eh….never mind. However…”

 

  She walks around Migdra looking her up and down, “hmmm…you have magical potential alright, seems the demons do this pact that partially seals your power for their use and they channel your power through them to do what you want…damn…its like the supernatural definition of a scam job.”

 

   “My…power?” asks Migdra.

 

  “Yes indeed,” says Rhulan wrapping her arm around Migdra’s shoulder, “and you freed me…wanted to make a pact with…and technically I already fucked you like seven times already…granted kind of roughly…”

 

   Rhulan looks Migdra in the eyes, “stick with me and they’ll go from calling you a witch to the sorceress queen…is that not what you wanted? The ultimate magical power, from the ultimate magical being on your world?”

 

   Migdra takes a deep breath and bows before Rhulan, “Yes! I Migdra pledge myself to thee, great Goddess of all elements even the void Grand One Rhulan!”

 

  Rhulan claps her hands together, “Great it’s a deal then. First things first though…”

 

   She looks around, “well…first I need to do a scrying spell to find my cape, woe be any mortal using it as a placemat…any who…first we need to find someplace to eat. I haven’t eaten anything in centuries, and I am fucking starving right now!”



#2390 Rhuen

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Posted 11 March 2014 - 03:50 PM

an alien animal:

 

 

Name: Turtle Pod

 

Type:  Mollusk like organism

 

Average Life Span: *unknown*

 

Habitat: The planet Ibliss, native to the swamp regions of the northern continent

 

Description: Looks like a giant green turtle shell moving through the water. Uses jets to move about in the water, and slug like pseudopods from holes along the edges of the shell to feed and move about on land.

 

History and Abilities:

A large slow moving herbivore, relatively harmless. Their shells are hard enough to protect them from many native predators in the water. Luckily for these large slow moving creatures they are poisonous to humans no matter how they are prepared.



#2391 Rhuen

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Posted 13 March 2014 - 03:18 PM

Conquest of Espara ch.02

 

 

   A tiny blue planet, freckled with islands as its only landmasses. On a mountain of one of these islands is a great beast drenched and dying, a red giant muscular man of a beast with the hooves of a goat, the head of a boar, horns of a bull, and phallus of a horse. Once the great beast flowed from the eternal fire below, now it is merely red and broken. The flapping of wings can be heard above it in the sparkling light of the day. Great white wings of an enormous snowy white Owl which lands near the smaller body of the giant.

 

   “Brother…Garudan,” says the demon reaching up weakly.

 

  “What has happened brother,” says Garudan in a mighty majestic voice that could only belong to the king of kings, the lord of lords, “what manner of force could lay low the great red goat that was sacrificed to the eternal flame of life.”

 

   “I…was…tricked,” says the demon Eckraik, “do you know brother, do you know the story of the seven alien heroes who defeated the alien witch and tossed her into the seas of our world?”

 

   “Yes,” says the great owl Garudan, “A mere footnote in the history of my grand faith and our father’s plan. A story only a few heathens know as it is of little importance brother; those that would follow the witch you and your servants removed from the grand plan, a mere silly pagan myth now that no one who even knows could take seriously.”

 

   “It was…very important,” coughs out the demon with puffs of smoke from his mouth, “they lied to us brother, it was no mere witch who so often had tempted witches to her, they sealed an alien goddess in our seas brother.”

 

   The demon stops and stares at the grand white plumage of Garudan, “Brother…she is free, somehow one witch, somehow she knew, she had them, the seven gems that sealed that alien goddess.”

 

   “The seven gems they told us were scattered across the world?” says Garudan

 

  “They were all in one place,” says Eckraick, “the witch performed the ritual, and tricked me, tricked me into using my power to awaken the gems and free her…her….her…”

 

  Garudan spreads his wings, a great white light envelops the demon Eckraick as servants of heaven emerge from the light.

 

  “Carry Eckraick to Mt. Rondale and return him to the eternal flame of the inner world.”

 

  “Master,” says one of the shining servants, “is this not the harbinger of all evil? Are we not bound to the eternal struggle to end his existence and bring true order to the world?”

 

  “Evil,” says the great white Owl Garudan, “would you my servants have it written that a foreign influence not of heaven or hell emerged from the sea and cast out the lord of evil from our world?”

 

  The servant bows as they all form a white sheet and ascend to the sky with the demon, who has these parting words, “Brother…she rose from the sea as a monster, consumed the flames of hell as easily as I myself, and took the name of the sea and commanded it to rise, a darkness from the abyss that commands the elements to obey her, held fast was I by her very will to suffer the wrath of the mighty wave that swallows land.”

 

   The demon passes out and is carried away to the smoking mountain Rondale whose innards boil with the flame of the inner world that creates the land which mankind needs and kills with equal impunity. The great white owl, the chosen form of Garudan the supreme god of this world’s people ascends to heaven once more with troubling thoughts, thoughts and feelings unfitting for a supreme being and master of all souls.

Story time;



#2392 Rhuen

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Posted 17 March 2014 - 03:31 PM

story time:

 

Conquest of Espara ch.03

 

   A tiny blue planet, freckled with islands as its only landmasses. On a mountain of one of these islands is a great beast drenched and dying, a red giant muscular man of a beast with the hooves of a goat, the head of a boar, horns of a bull, and phallus of a horse. Once the great beast flowed from the eternal fire below, now it is merely red and broken. The flapping of wings can be heard above it in the sparkling light of the day. Great white wings of an enormous snowy white Owl which lands near the smaller body of the giant.

 

   “Brother…Garudan,” says the demon reaching up weakly.

 

  “What has happened brother,” says Garudan in a mighty majestic voice that could only belong to the king of kings, the lord of lords, “what manner of force could lay low the great red goat that was sacrificed to the eternal flame of life.”

 

   “I…was…tricked,” says the demon Eckraik, “do you know brother, do you know the story of the seven alien heroes who defeated the alien witch and tossed her into the seas of our world?”

 

   “Yes,” says the great owl Garudan, “A mere footnote in the history of my grand faith and our father’s plan. A story only a few heathens know as it is of little importance brother; those that would follow the witch you and your servants removed from the grand plan, a mere silly pagan myth now that no one who even knows could take seriously.”

 

   “It was…very important,” coughs out the demon with puffs of smoke from his mouth, “they lied to us brother, it was no mere witch who so often had tempted witches to her, they sealed an alien goddess in our seas brother.”

 

   The demon stops and stares at the grand white plumage of Garudan, “Brother…she is free, somehow one witch, somehow she knew, she had them, the seven gems that sealed that alien goddess.”

 

   “The seven gems they told us were scattered across the world?” says Garudan

 

  “They were all in one place,” says Eckraick, “the witch performed the ritual, and tricked me, tricked me into using my power to awaken the gems and free her…her….her…”

 

  Garudan spreads his wings, a great white light envelops the demon Eckraick as servants of heaven emerge from the light.

 

  “Carry Eckraick to Mt. Rondale and return him to the eternal flame of the inner world.”

 

  “Master,” says one of the shining servants, “is this not the harbinger of all evil? Are we not bound to the eternal struggle to end his existence and bring true order to the world?”

 

  “Evil,” says the great white Owl Garudan, “would you my servants have it written that a foreign influence not of heaven or hell emerged from the sea and cast out the lord of evil from our world?”

 

  The servant bows as they all form a white sheet and ascend to the sky with the demon, who has these parting words, “Brother…she rose from the sea as a monster, consumed the flames of hell as easily as I myself, and took the name of the sea and commanded it to rise, a darkness from the abyss that commands the elements to obey her, held fast was I by her very will to suffer the wrath of the mighty wave that swallows land.”

 

   The demon passes out and is carried away to the smoking mountain Rondale whose innards boil with the flame of the inner world that creates the land which mankind needs and kills with equal impunity. The great white owl, the chosen form of Garudan the supreme god of this world’s people ascends to heaven once more with troubling thoughts, thoughts and feelings unfitting for a supreme being and master of all souls.



#2393 Rhuen

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Posted 18 March 2014 - 03:30 PM

an alien animal:

 

Name: Rodent Lizard

 

Type: Reptile / Mammal like organism

 

Habitat: The planet Ibliss, native to the swamp regions of the northern continent

 

Description: A creature that looks exactly like a rat (with internal genetalia) only covered in lizard like green scales instead of fur.

 

History and Abilities:

  A relatively harmless and edible tiny omnivore. It has no discernable abilities or traits, or behaviors that make it notable beyond being a common small creature.



#2394 Rhuen

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Posted 19 March 2014 - 05:10 PM

Aesperian culture lesson: As always Aesperia is a world comprised of many cultures, the following is a Ravashira custom:

 

   The giving of gifts: there are two forms of this really, one is the tribute, and the other is the true gift.

 

  A tribute is always a disposable thing, usually food, smokeables, alcohol, given from a lower position person to a higher position one to gain favor. This is also reflected in tributes to supernatural beings and powerful creatures seeking peace with them. Basically, it’s a “want of approval” or “want something from them” or “a sign of peace for mutual benefit”. However as a note, less scrupulous individuals may try to (bribe) someone with a tribute that resembles a “true gift”, this forces debt on the receiver, which can be paid off, and at the end the receiver may not view the whole affair as overly pleasant.

 

  *this takes advantage of the fact it is looked down upon as dishonorable to refuse a gift. Those who refuse gifts may be stigmatized as loathsome, as this has the cultural view of wishing the giver was dead (never accept gifts from the dead, always from the living), as it means you are treating them as an evil undead abomination; which is a terrible insult even for most enemies in the eyes of one’s family and comrades. To turn away gifts, especially of pleasantries such as clothes and toys, to your children, even from your worst enemy would be unthinkable; especially from an enemy as the act in this culture means (I harbor no ill-will to your family, and wish them all the best in life, even as I hate you personally). –there is some cultural loop holes as some may try to indebt the eldest child to not seek revenge for a period of time for a crime against their parent, giving the offender a chance to get away; limited times based on gift and offense- even so the cultural stigma and honor demands acceptance.

 

  A true gift is a reflection of one’s heart. It is usually something useful or something the receiver is believed will enjoy. Such gifts are taken as a sign of celebrating that the receiver is alive. With thoughtful and useful gifts taken further, the specific term is not in English I believe but lies between like and love, but may also include love; a “celebration of life and fond wishes for their future” would be the definition of the term. Hence the stigmas mentioned above for refusing a gift.

 

   Basically refusing a gift can be taken as treating the person as an undead abomination from whom you should never accept a gift, and/or (depends on region a little on this one), you are telling them you’d rather be dead yourself than accept the notion they care you exist. This later one more so towards gifts for your children; refusing to allow a gift even from your worst enemy for your children is kind of like saying “I’d rather my children be dead than have anything to do with you or live on the same world”; the translations and exact cultural view is a bit hard to explain in English; but that is about the jist of it.



#2395 Rhuen

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Posted 22 March 2014 - 01:21 PM

an animal from Param:

 

Name: Terror Salamander

 

Type: Amphibean (Salamander)

 

Average Life Span: *unknown*

 

Habitat: Param (Earth of 250 million years in the future), live in swamps and marshes in the south eastern region of the main continent.

 

Description: A six foot long yellow with red stripes salamander with a broad head and shark like teeth.

 

History and Abilities:

With crocodilians extinct in its region of the world these salamanders took over the apex aquatic predator niche. They are large ambush predators that feed mostly on fish, toads, other aquatic wild life, and occasionally smaller animals that get close to the water’s edge. Their teeth are made for shredding and causing as much damage as quickly as possible as their soft bodies and lack of claws aren’t made for handling larger aggressive struggling prey. They will thrash and follow larger animals lost in the swamp, harassing them to death till they can’t struggle anymore. All why these are called “Terror” Salamanders.



#2396 Rhuen

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Posted 24 March 2014 - 05:33 PM

story time:

 

Conquest of Espara part.04

 

 

 

     A heaving ship far from home, far from the cooling winds, and the snowy crags, dressed in clothing so thin that they feel naked, these are the five men, the Captain Ronald, Navigator Patrick, Colonel Ganz, and First class huntsman Peter. They have been sent from their homeland to this far away place to finish what they started, to hunt the Witch Migdra, formally known as the Witch of the North Woods. They ride now to the southern islands via a merchant ship leaving their great kingdom of Merigland for the seas of Hayzore; infamous for boasting the presence of pirates. The merchants think they have hired mercenaries, although the captain of the vessel knows better, to deter pirates from attacking their vessel.

 

   Captain Ronald thinks back to what lead to this most unexpected turn of events. He remembers giving his report to the general, and the general burning the report. He had been chided for telling anyone they had witnessed Eckraick and a Witch’s pact being conducted. He warned him that the law of the Church was clear; any seeing such things would have unclean eyes that were to having boiling holy water poured in to prevent them from defiling any they looked upon until their death and ascension to heaven where sight would be restored to witness the glory of Garudan. The General would not allow the loss of his best Witch hunters to the current parliament of the Church and their string of new outlandish laws; pious though the general be; only the words of the book move his actions and not those of men too afraid to leave their ivory towers.

 

  That was not the end of it however, as the tale the captain told was not something of the book, the story their now departed scout had told of a story from the Fala Islands. The General swearing his captain to deeper secrecy lead him into the depths of the abbey to see a very special sort of priest. A man charged with keeping a record of all the pagan and blasphemous texts that the church would sooner see burned than ever read by anyone. Charged with copying them, and remembering them, as they are not only their ancestor’s history but also speak of things the General knows all too well dwell among the many islands and seas of their world. Knowledge is their best weapon, and their ancestors collected tales of many a strange creature. Why wait for some missionary with his bestiary to come across and somehow survive such encounters only guessing at what is to be done or its origins when their ancestors already wrote it all down.

 

   The priest was an average looking man, not some great sage, or noble visage; a man who could walk down the street of any market and be instantly forgotten by anyone who saw him. The priest was privy to the tale the captain told, and retrieved two old texts. One a copy of a book from the Fala Islands as expected, another from the Hayzore nation which with its tropics would fit the description of where they were. In them two tales so similar yet worlds apart. The Fala Island text told the same tale as their scout, of seven divine heroes who defeated a great witch and sealed her into the sea and created and spread out seven gems. The Hayzore text was as different as the moon is to the sun. It spoke of a Goddess and referenced an older myth, the goddess who was there when the world was created, the Goddess of the Abyss Rhulan. It said upon her return seven devils came from the sky and battled with her; unable to contain her great unending light of creation imprisoned her in a gem, the symbol of mortal greed and cast her into the sea.

 

   As clearly the Hayzore would be more inclined to be sympathetic and given the description of the island the general tasked these men to finish their mission and head for the islands to hunt her and find a means to conquer this new witch as well. 

 

    ******

 

    All that was stated by Captain Ron to his men.

 

   “Naturally,” says Patrick their navigator, albeit not so much on this voyage into the unfamiliar seas of the south, “The Hayzore are heathen pirates who refuse to accept the truth of Garudan into their hearts, so it’s only natural they would be sympathetic to a witch.”

 

   “What shit is that?” asks a Hayzore sailor who overheard him, “He drops the rope he was carrying and points at the navigator, “you northerners don’t know a thing about us, how we are we pirates when we let YOU on OUR ship. The captain agreed to help YOU look for YOUR witch. So who the hell are you to call us heathens.”

 

   Patrick scoffs, “have you accepted Garudan’s teaching into your hearts? If not then you are evil.”

 

  “Why the hell would I do that?” asks the crew mate, “your church does nothing but send these stupid missionaries who would insist we stop eating the only food keeping us alive, not have sex, and wear your idiotic thick clothing that would kill us in the summer to wear, and those they can’t convince they just invade and kill. YOU are the evil ones who pollute the minds of the people and murder anyone who doesn’t agree with you.”

 

  The other crew members nearby are getting restless at these words, Captain Ron and the others other than Patrick who is too focused on this one man are noticing the growing tension.

 

   Patrick pulls out his copy of the Holy Book of Garudan, “This has all the teachings, sure some take it a bit far, but it says to remove all evil from our midst, and holds…”

 

   “What proof do you have that, that is any better than what we already have?” asks the crew member crossing his arms and smiling.

 

   “Proof,” says Patrick waving the book, “Its right here, this is the proof, it says…”

 

  “and I say its fish shit,” says the crew member, “so why is what its saying more believable than me or my ancestors?”

 

   Patrick looks at the book and at him, “who are you? You are not a prophet, you don’t speak to Garudan like the high priests, this book says,”

 

   “How do you know,” says the crew member, “it says, because you were told it says, and that’s it. You are told these men do this and that, you are told, how’s that proof?”

 

   Patrick visibly getting upset, “It is undeniable truth! All you have to do is read it and you’ll…”

 

  “I read it,” says the crew member, “front to back, I read about your horrible wars killing everyone who doesn’t agree with you, and your leaders claiming they were told to do it, and some light hearted fluff to convince fools like you to follow or else.”

 

   “Why you…” starts Patrick standing up, “you read it wrong then!”

 

  “Oh,” says the crew member laughing as some of his friends get closer, “I thought you said it was undeniable, how can your perfect God have his perfect prophets write something that someone reading it can doubt? Huh?”

 

   Ron puts his hand on Patrick’s shoulder and nods to get Patrick to notice that a rather large sum of the crew is gathering around them.

 

  “Your God is as big a hypocrite as you are anyway,” says the crew member, “your own book says that your oh so good God is brothers with your devil.”

 

   “What?” says Patrick shaking his head, “No it doesn’t.”

 

  He flips through the book, too fast for anyone to read anything, “It doesn’t say that anywhere in here.”

 

 

   “Creation 10:12” says the crew member, “and Garudan sacrificed his only brother the great goat into the flames of the inner world so that life and land could rise; that great goat Eckraik

who would reside there as a test for man.”

 

   “Some evil,” says the crew member, “sounds like your boss’s brother is working for him, huh…”

 

   The other crew members that have gathered are laughing at the small band of Witch Hunters.

 

  “Th…that…” stammers Patrick, “that is…that is horse shit…bird shit…he…it doesn’t mean brother like…blood brother…it…”

 

   “Oh…” says the crew member in a mocking manner, “I thought you said it didn’t say they were brothers at all..so what crap are you going to make up right now, right here, which is only right and I’m wrong because YOU say so.”

 

   He talks to his other crew mates, “Just like that missionary back in Bali, dumb-ass hypocrites don’t even know their own teachings. Maybe if they did, they’d know it’s all fish shit.”

 

  They burst out laughing, Patrick as well as Ron’s other men are reaching for their weapons.

 

  “Enough!” shouts both captain Ron, and the ship’s actual captain at the same time.

 

  “Captain,” says the ship’s captain to Ron, “put a lid on your men, while they are on my ship, and you…” he addresses his own men, “we are three days from the nearest island, and about to pass the Crystal Island, I don’t need your damned hate and blood attracting that monster to MY ship! If this continues I will throw you and these witch hunters overboard. Is that what you really want? I’ll give you your own boats.”

 

  He walks over to the life rafts, “Here! Take two, you and these northerners can takes these two boats, row the fuck away from MY boat and kill each other out on the sea!”

 

  He glares back at the witch hunters with an eerie eye and back to his own men who continue their work. He walks up to Ron and whispers, “it would be best if you and your men found another boat at the next port.”

 

  He glances over, “we are near the edge of the invisible miasma, hate will be amplified, and my men need to have only happy thoughts while going through it. The next island on the edge of it specializes in that. You and your men will not be welcomed there I assure you, safe journeys anyway.”

 

    ******

 

   It is as the captain said, the port of Baluun, an island that is said to rest on the edge of an invisible miasma that causes negative emotions to spiral out of control, is an island the witch hunters do not like; for it is an island of prostitutes, neighbor to the island of Baralan that rests on the opposite side of the invisible miasma. The Witch hunters sit in a bar trying to ignore the sinful decadence around them, the reason, the excuse as far as they are concerned, being that a ship full of prostitutes is one that while not as focused on duties is one where the crew can’t focus on anything negative, turning this part of their journey into a pleasure cruise between the two nearby island ports. It is not long before an old laid back man approaches them, hearing that they need a ship to reach Baralan and continue onward to the place the great priest back home directed them to, that last part not something they are sharing with anyone outside their group naturally.

 

   Mere hours later the witch hunters find themselves working themselves half to death on a small vessel, they the only crew.

 

  “I don’t mean to talk of anything religious,” says the old man as the witch hunters work, “for that is never a good idea here on the high seas, let alone in this sea, but I fully agree that prostitution sickens me.”

 

  He *spits* over the side of the ship,  “these ships take on double or three times their normal crew turning their once proud vessels into orgies on the waves. Making them feed two too three times as many people and with that many who aren’t even working to keep the ship secure, in fact they are doing the exact opposite just to distract the crew.”

 

  He *winks*, “I came up with a better idea. I take on a smaller crew during this leg of the journey,”

 

   “and work them half to death,” mutters Ganz.

 

  “Secure those remarks,” orders Ron.

 

  “Its as you say,” says the old man, “all this hard work, just to stay alive, THAT is what will keep your mind busy.”

 

  “can’t argue with that,” says Peter, “wh….”

 

  He shields his eyes as a brilliant glare comes from near the horizon.

 

  “There it is,” says the old man, “the source of the invisible miasma, the Crystal Island of Shora.”

 

  “Crystal Island?” asks Ron

 

  “yep,” says the old man, “its home to the great witch Shora.”

 

  “A witch!” shouts Patrick.

 

  Peter shouts, “take us ashore! So we can kill it!”

 

  The old man laughs, “that’s the invisible miasma talking, feeding on those witch hunter minds of yours. Only a fool goes after one of the five great witches.”

 

  “Five…Great…Witches,” says Ron confused.

 

  “Great…Witches,” says Patrick, “I knew the Hayzore were heathens but that is too much.”

 

  The old man laughs, “don’t get us wrong my friends, we don’t praise these sea monsters. They will attack men, sink ships, and feed on our emotions. I remember my grandfather claiming that the prostitute tradition was started so this great slimy beast could feed on the sexual energies and avoid attacking the ships to feed on the equally strong terror. Of course no one likes the idea of placating or feeding one of these monsters so the story that its to distract the crew so as not to feed her is much more popular.”

 

   “Its…a witch or a sea monster?” asks Ganz

 

  “Both,” says the old man, “guess you northerners don’t know about these things…eh…you never do. And trust me I’ve seen more than my fare share of hunters who accompany the missionaries go after one of these…the one from the marshy island of Gala…who would be the witch Gala of course…easiest to find, but kills them all every time, she’s a giant crab from what I hear.”

 

   “giant crab?” asks Ganz.

 

 “indeed she is,” says the old man, “and this Shora is a giant eel woman, seen her once, had a witch hunter like yourselves with me that day, he went mad with his rage and took a life boat. Poor soul didn’t get halfway to the island before she lept from the waters and dragged him down.”

 

  “Never…” says Ganz, “have I heard of a witch like that…”

 

 “They are different from most,” says the old man taking out a pipe as the men work, “from what I hear they didn’t make pacts with demons like you normally hear of witches doing you see. They made a pact with the Queen of the Abyss, now don’t get huffy about this, but in Hayzore tradition she is a monster that makes your devil look downright peaceful by comparison.”

 

  Ron puts his hand out and glares at Patrick not to speak.

 

  The old man continues, “It’s said she sleeps at the bottom of the sea, trapped in a crystal created by the gods because if she were free it would be a million times worse. People blame everything on her from bad fishing to storms; they say a strange wave larger than any ever seen before that washed through the Ocsha islands recently was caused by this monster. They describe her as a giant octopus or squid woman.”

 

  The witch hunters stop and stare at each other from that description.

 

  “According to the stories,” says the old man, “only a witch who doesn’t have the scent of a demon’s covenant upon her may make a contract with her…sounds pretty impossible to be a witch and not be like that,”

 

  He laughs before continuing, “those that have managed it, these five women in total, were granted the immortality and power they desired, by being turned into horrific sea monsters, creatures of pure lust and destruction.”

 

  Patrick turns, “captain!”

 

 The ship is heading full speed towards the port, straight for a beach actually.

 

 “We have to lower the sail!” yells Ron, but the old man only smokes his pipe.

 

  Blackness.

 

   The witch hunters open their eyes, people standing over them. They are soaking wet and covered in sea weed. Behind them the ocean is filled a giant mass of sea weed and trails on the beach where the people over them had dragged them from it.

 

  “What…” stammers Ron while coughing up some sea water and weeds.

 

  “The ship crashed,” says Ganz, “I think…last I remember we were heading towards the port at full speed and…”

 

  “This port?” asks a local confused, “a big wave full of seaweed carried you men to the beach, you washed ashore, we thought you were all dead.”

 

   “We were on a ship,” says Ron, “about half the size of that one,”

 

  He points far down the beach to the docks, “we were the only crew, us and the old man captain..”

 

  One of the people a sailor says, “that’s impossible, you are only four men, you can’t run such a ship by yourselves, who was the captain?”

 

  Ron draws a blank, as do the others, Ron says, “How…how’d we not get his name? We met him at a bar in Baluun, then…”

 

  He sits up soaking wet, surprisingly healthy despite appearances as are the other witch hunters much to everyone surprise there, “then we were on the ship and right off of that Shora island.”

 

  The people start to murmur.

 

  Ron continues, “then we were crashing here right after he was talking about that Queen of the Abyss legend the Hayzore have.”

 

   “Queen of what?” asks a man shrugging, others around him shrug their shoulders too.

 

  “When was this?” asks a man as the witch hunters stand.

 

  “To…today,” says Ron with a furrowed brow, “It…no…yeah…the sun never set right?”

 

  Peter look back at the sea, “yeah, like maybe five hours I’d say…”

 

  “That’s impossible,” says a man there, “this is Baralan, that’s a two day voyage on the fastest ships.”

 

   The people all *gasp* as a phantom ship appears a little ways out at sea. The Witch hunters stand, reaching for weapons that are missing, stowed away below deck on the ship they were on, the ship they recognize despite now being transparent. It vanishes, and the old man stands on the water, on the sea weed. He too vanishes, and in his place is the witch Migdra with her long black hair and long white gown, her laughter echoes through the air as she too vanishes.

 

  “H…how…” says Ron taking a Holy White Feather from his pocket, “how could she…the relic should have cried out when a witch is near…why…”

 

  “Five Great Witches,” says Patrick, “should have been a clue…damn it!”

 

  “If she was telling the truth,” says Ron, “that would make her the sixth.”

 

  Ron looks at the people, “We need to see an archivist, any holy man you have here that would know anything about…”

 

   He points out at the sea, “that!”



#2397 Rhuen

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Posted 27 March 2014 - 04:41 PM

an alien race:

 

Race: Croon

 

Description: At first glance would appear to be six foot long, standing four feet tall giant orange, great, or brown colored cockroaches with thin tiny vestigial wings and bent at the thorax like centaurs; they are not, their legs are thin and all six connected to the front of the body and end in pad like toes, the upper body has two arms with hands that lack palms, like long multi-digited six fingers on either side coming off the wrists. The head is rounded with crab like mouth parts and large rounded eyes that are one big eye with a half circle of smaller eyes at the bottom side.

 

History:

  The Croon are a very advanced race that has experimented with dimensional technology. However during their history a scientific institute made a horrible mistake and accidently brought a (Hell Walker) into their universe (A giant humanoid demon type creature from the Hell Universe). It opened up a portal its self, summoning forth a legion of humanoid demons that ravaged the city, killing, consuming, and kidnapping (to later consume) many citizens. Apparently the Croon tasted so good to the Hell Walker and its minions that they took Croon offspring and breeding adults to raise as cattle back in hell.

 

  The Croon, have created the Croon Alliance, an alliance made of none-humanoid races across various universes with the single goal to wipe out all humanoid life. The Croon believe, as do most of their allies that humanoids are the creations of cosmic monsters, many of which are humanoid themselves, and thus are pure evil, even pure evil waiting to happen. The Croon are thus responsible for exterminating several alternate Earths and other human and humanoid inhabited worlds. The Croon massacre of humanoids was only ceased when they encountered the Ju-el and the Suihrai to very advanced humanoid races that have functioned like a wall against the Croon. However allies of the Croon have continued their assaults, one such invasion was of the galaxy wide spread human civilizations of Reality-Q, a war that involved many human factions against a moss like alien race that eventually pulled in the humanoid cosmic horror Sahralia the Star Killer to turn on the aliens; *As a note this same instance saw Rhulan’s rise in power from C-class too A-class*.

 

  The Croon would also confront the Qwie, Warrior Race, Kuhrai, and others. Having spread themselves and their allies like this, not to mention provoking several cosmic horrors it is a surprise they still exist as a race. Although their threat to primitive worlds, via direct assault has diminished somewhat since they have run into a number of humanoid races able to oppose them and force them to pool their resources on those front and even become defensive as some go back after them (Dark Elves, The Eldritch, and Ancient Dragons), apparently being even remotely humanoid like the Eldritch and Ancient Dragons was enough to make the Croon attack them. Although the Ancient Dragons and Eldritch have shown no tendency to pursue the Croon once chased from their domains. The Croon in recent history have had to pull as many resources and allies as they could from their secret extermination missions of primitive unprotected human worlds as they finally found their ancient enemy, an enemy that has gone all out against the Croon (meeting attempted Genocide in kind), the Demons of Hell.



#2398 Rhuen

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Posted 31 March 2014 - 05:56 PM

Conquest of Espara ch.05

 

 

    *A few weeks before the Witch Hunter’s faithful encounter*

 

    The world became a blur for Migdra, one moment she was lying upon the ground between two superpowers beyond her reckoning, the devil Eckraik; the embodiment of evil she had been raised since childhood by society to regard as the ultimate source of magic and evil; the other the secret ancient one who rests at the bottom of the sea and source of greater magic. She had hoped for a secret encounter and despaired when the devil appeared in person for no secret tales and forbidden knowledge could fully wash away society’s taint upon her consciousness. However her fears were unfounded as the devil was its self washed away like an insect before the storm by the goddess of the abyss. The goddess took her to a far away island and revealed herself to be a sorceress named Rhulan. One moment she is agreeing to be her student and bowing before her, the next the very earth is opening up to reveal a pool of crystal clear water.

 

  “Do not fret,” says Rhulan standing over her guiding Migdra into the warm waters, “this is a hotspring of my own creation, the well of cleansing. All the remaining demonic influence in your form will be wiped away.”

 

  “my..my,,,” says Migdra.

 

 

  “Your magic?” says Rhulan, “what magic? You have potential, potential parasitized by those low class demon spawn. I you have summoned, I you have freed from the prison made by my enemies in their foolish attempts to turn me into an eldritch abomination…not really sure what they thought THAT would accomplish but…”

 

   Migdra is lost past the demon spawn part as the water nymphs move into massaging her pelvic muscles from the inside out to cleanse them of demon taint, and creatively use their simulations of mouths upon her breasts to suck out all demonic influence from her ample mammaries. Rhulan smiles as she crosses her arms and laughs beneath her breath.

 

   Rhulan’s clothes vanish. Migdra is left breathing heavy as the nymphs fade into the water while Rhulan steps into the spring. Her body a marvel to behold, a defiance of time and nature with the grace of youth and the hint of maturity held in an aura of ageless wonder. Migdra is wide eyed and a bit fearful remembering the tentacle bodied form Rhulan had been in when she first encountered the deep sea goddess of magic.

 

  Rhulan soaks a moment beside her as if Migdra were not even there before Rhulan speaks, “You desire magic do you not?”

 

   “Y…yes,” says Migdra, “magic and power…”

 

  “Then agree to be my student, and you shall have power greater than the five great witches.”

 

  “I…I already prepared myself to become a creature of your likeness to avenge my people against the church.”

 

   Rhulan, with both elbows leaning against the edge of the hot spring, and a towel over her eyes which Migdra has no idea where that came from, peels the towel off and sets it on the stone bank, “The covenant…the covenant of magic made with those five was…incomplete.” States Rhulan, “As I was they were infected by the eldritch essence into monstrous forms for all eternity…or until they are killed at any rate, generals, or rather powerful thralls of my doing.”

 

   Rhulan runs her fingers in an odd way in the water.

 

  “Oh my!” exclaims Migdra at the sudden sensation of a jet like lapping at her nether womanhood, and the return of the water nymphs upon her breasts and upon Rhulan who much to Migdra’s surprise is less enraptured sexually by this activity as she is as she seems to simply be enjoying it as one enjoys a gentle relaxing massage. Indeed the water nymphs are gentle. Migdra has never felt such care for her own pleasure, no idea sex could be so tender.

 

   “Become my student,” says Rhulan, “and my lover, my consort, and you will be master of the five witches, and ruler of a nation, the church will fall, not as a building falls, or a man falls for only martyrs or mortar and flesh does that make. No, fall as an ideology, fall as a belief.”

 

   She gestures and beyond the water nymphs the spring water rises impossibly into the shape of the great owl Garudan. Rhulan slices the air with her fingers while saying, “cut”. A red line slices through for but a brief moment, possibly unseen if one blinked, and the head of the owl falls off and the water crumbles like ice before returning to water.

 

   “To kill a god,” says Rhulan almost nonchalantly as she leans back, the *giggling* water nymphs apparently enjoying themselves on her breasts and ones almost hidden beneath the surface between their legs and others still hidden massaging their legs.

 

   Replacing the towel on her eyes Rhulan continues, “one must not only slay the deity, its prophets, but also discredit its teachings, show the world the lie; or else the faith will continue to follow the foolish men despite the lack of their living god before them.”

 

   Migdra would be more disturbed by such familiarity, the voice of experiences beyond her knowing of lost years, if not for the distraction of the tantalizing machinations upon her tender and excited flesh.

 

   Migdra finds herself suddenly swept up by the water like a massive clear tentacle partially made of the giggling water nymphs and places upon Rhulan’s lap. Their breasts pressed together as Rhulan tastes the woman’s lips, teases them with her tongue, parting them with gentle insistence, probing her mouth. A tingle never felt before, not by the sour cold and slimy mouths and eel like tongues of demons choked down her throat. This was an electricity mixed with the sweetest of candies, an addiction born in an instant, lost in the tender yet stronger than all embrace of the deep sea goddess.

 

  Rhulan speaks without speaking, her words born from the air around them as her mouth teaches Migdra’s the true pleasures of a woman, “I will teach you pleasure, power, magic, the power of the womanly form, the magic born of pleasure.”

 

   Migdra nearly jumps as a vibrating stirring occurs between her legs where netherlips meet netherlips.

 

  “The gods and demons,” says Rhulan as she holds onto Migdra’s arms, “have placed a genetic seal into your race, sealing away the magic potential inherit to those of this world. The seal is born into every girl, as every girl would have this magic power. A covenant with the demons creates a link between you and they, they use your power to perform the magic you believe is coming from them.”

 

  Rhulan runs her hands down Migdra’s arms as a phallus grows and slowly, ever so gently pushes past Migdra’s pussy lips.

 

  “I can work with this magic,” says Rhulan gently, “to unseal you, to release the power within you via a biomantic spell altering my flesh into the key the seal requires, and with my power break it.”

 

   Migdra instinctively moves her hips as she is filled in a way that is neither small nor the monstrous pain of that of the demons. Even though Migdra does not understand Rhulan’s words, she understands the covenant and the idea of breaking a seal.

 

   “there,” says Rhulan as she coaxed Migdra to bounce upon her un-natural growth, a magic rod of a most literal kind.

 

  As Migdra slowly at first raises and lowers upon Rhulan’s stiff staff of flesh, the warm water waves around her tender pale thighs. Migdra is oblivious to the fact the water nymphs have vanished as she is lost into the electric sensations stirring within her from might and magic of the abyssal goddess. Rhulan is lost a moment, watching this beautiful creature bouncing on her lap as her hands massage the woman’s milky hips. Rhulan knows what must be done as she sneaks a hand across the gyrating abdomen of the woman and summons forth a light blue sigil there. The woman is lost in the mystical waves of pleasure enhancing the physical, not noticing the magic. Rhulan moves her hand down, teasing with her fingers where flesh meets flesh before moving up her own body to conjure forth a sister sigil. It pierces deep into Rhulan and through her to Migdra. An orgasmic wave overcomes them both as Migdra cums and Rhulan’s artificial penis ejaculates both fluids and spells.

 

   Migdra *huffs* as the raw power comes over, the impact softened by Rhulan holding the woman down upon her rod, insuring the completion of the spell, for Rhulan’s enchanted seminal fluid to eat away at the mystic seal and release Migdra’s power to its full potential.

 

  “Now,” says Rhulan after awhile, after Migdra stops shaking from the aftershocks of physical and mystical pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before, “your lessons can begin.”

 

   Unbeknownst to either of them at this time, deep within Migdra’s womb, the sparkling mystically enhanced seminal fluid made from a sacrificed ovum of Rhulan’s own swirls in Migdra’s womb in search of life. It snakes out and finds an ovum of Migdra’s, dragging it into the womb and joining it with the un-natural sperm, more like tiny squids than human sperm, of Rhulan. They fuse, a new life has begun, child to the witch Migdra, and child to the ancient god like sorceress Rhulan.

story time:



#2399 Rhuen

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Posted 01 April 2014 - 02:31 PM

A mystic Monster:

 

Name: Flame Mammoth

 

Type: Monster (Fire Elemental)

 

Average Life Span: *indefinite* artificial being

 

Habitat: Appear from red portals, appear typically only in fiery regions and volcanoes found in colder climate areas. They are more commonly seen summoned as guards.

 

Description: Look like wooly mammoths (except only six feet at the shoulder) made entirely of fire.

 

History and Abilities:

This mystic monster appears commonly around the Volcano Portas on the world of Homnes, as well in the mountains of the world Mercin. They have been spotted rarely on other worlds as well. These monsters charge at anything that moves and have zero intelligence. As they are made entirely of fire held together by magic they are very weak against water and ice, especially magical water and ice, and a dispel spell will actually destroy them outright.

 

   They have no special attacks aside from ramming, as they are made completely out of fire physical attacks against them are ill-advised and they are barely harmed by such as it is.



#2400 Rhuen

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Posted 02 April 2014 - 03:01 PM

another Mystic Monster:

 

 

Name: Lich Hound

 

Type: Monster (Undead Dog Humanoid)

 

Average Life Span: *indefinite* artificial being

 

Habitat: Appear from the black portals, usually found in graveyard settings, moseleums, and ancient ruins filled with corpses. Will also appear at sites of ancient battlefields.

 

Description: A short humanoid beagle with mummified skin and sunken eyes. They are wearing red and grey armor with spiked shoulder pads, and WWI style german helmets (spike on top). They typically carry a short broadsword.

 

History and Abilities:

  These undead type monsters typically are only seen on either human, Chokota, or humanoid canine worlds and locations. They will haunt areas of darkness as sunlight will destroy them. They are a bit smarter than the average undead and will seek shelter from the sun, and may end up leading groups of undead monsters (a boss type monster).

   It has the following attacks.

 

Sword Slash: a typical slash with its sword

 

Necro Slash: Green necro energy sword slash, can cause poisoning or paralysis. May instantly kill weaker opponents.

 

Venom Bolt: A yellow fiery energy that can cause the (venom) condition.

 

Summon Minions: They can summon (Shambling Zombies), (Skeleton), (Skeleton Dog), and (Zombie Dog).