Chapter 3

The next morning, they ate a hearty breakfast and packed for their trek through the Savage Forrest. Zaphyra paid Ootha for three days worth of rations. If all went well, they would be in Waterdeep in two days with a day to spare.

Before allowing them to leave, Ootha said her goodbyes. She punched Garuk hard in each shoulder, “You are a good Brother,” she told him. “You take good care of Zaphyra, Yes?” Garuk nodded and punched her back. Ootha chuckled but then turned to Morwen.

“Next time, we will play more, Yes?” Ootha gave her a wide grin, that caused her tusks to jut out a bit farther. Morwen still had fears about becoming a real meal for the half-orc, rather than a sexual partner, but nodded with a grin. Ootha then turned to Zaphyra.

She grabbed Zaphyra by both shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Aka’magosh!” she growled in her native oricish. She then pulled Zaphyra in and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her mouth. The sounds of licking and sucking were hard to ignore. When they broke, Ootha commanded, “You come back, very soon, Yes!”

Zaphyra smiled, wiped her mouth on her bracers, and replied. “And many blessings on you, Ootha,” then punched Ootha square in the gut. Ootha took the blow and didn’t move an inch. “I’ll be back when I can,” Zaphyra told her with a wide smile. Then the party left the Frisky Lumberjack and headed Southwest.

The walk was easy. They were on a well-trodden trail, so it was no surprise that they made good time. By nightfall, they made camp in a clearing just off the main path. Morwen was glad to be rid of her cloak and hood. Being allergic to sunlight was becoming a real problem.

During supper, Morwen suddenly volunteered, “Ootha taught me something new,” Zaphyra and Garuk both burst out laughing. Morwen was confused, it hadn’t been a joke.

Zaphyra piped up first, “Oh, did she teach you how long her tongue was?” Garuk added his commentary, then.

“Did her tusks cut you when she put it in you?” Zaphyra smacked Garuk hard. Then with a glance at Morwen, stopped and punched Garuk again, forcing him to stop. Morwen was sitting head down picking at a small loaf of crusty bread with one sharp nail.

“Morwen,” Zaphyra said solemnly. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Ootha is well known for seducing people she finds attractive.” then with some amusement in her tone, she said, “And trust me, she finds you very, very attractive.”

Morwen raised her head and stared at Zaphyra questioningly. Catching the meaning behind her gaze, Zaphyra said. “I should know, because I find you positively delicious,” Morwen finally smiled, then continued with her original thought.

“It’s this,” Morwen said. Excitement rose in her voice. She held her arm out and it began to glow. After a moment a blade of dim, sparkling light rose from her fist. When it had completely formed, the glow began to brighten, it began to emit heat. Then with a popping sound, the glow became a flame, White hot and radiating intense heat.

The brother and sister pair stared at Morwen, astonished. “That ... That’s remarkable,” Zaphyra stammered. “Do you know how to wield a sword?” Zaphyra asked, one hand held out as if testing the heat coming from the glowing sword.

Morwen gasped, and the flames died, the sword extinguished and she hung her head again. “No, the only weapon I know how to use is a can of mace,” At that Zaphyra brightened and moved to sit by Morwen.

“That’s wonderful!” Zaphyra told her. “Maces can be powerful weapons!” Morwen stared dumbly at Zaphyra for a moment, then Zaphyra drew something in the dirt with her finger and pointed, “They look like this? Is that what you’re talking about?” Morwen shook her head.

“No, in my old world, mace was a chemical spray in a small can you would spray in someone’s face,” Now it was time for Zaphyra to look dumbly at Morwen. Morwen tore her loaf of bread in two. The short end was palm-sized then she said;

“A small metal canister,” Then she held it in her first, with her thumb over the top. “I push a switch on top and stuff that smells like a skunk sprays into the face of your attacker,” Zaphyra bobbed her head in understanding, then grasped Morwen’s hand.

“We will teach you,” Then brightened with an idea. “Until then, if you can do that faster, you can stab it through someone’s body at close range,” Zaphyra made a close stabbing motion with both her hands. Then with sadistic glee said, “They’ll never see it coming. They’ll be cooked from the inside!”

That made Morwen flinch away. It evoked a memory. One that had been fading. Morwen wasn’t sure why, but the thought of cooking someone made her feel ill. A few seconds later, she vomited her meal onto the ground in front of her and began shaking.

“Are you OK?” Zaphyra asked, alarmed by the suddenness of the situation. Morwen shook her head, and began coughing, ridding her throat of what remained of her supper. Garuk handed Zaphyra a cloth and a wineskin. Zaphyra wiped Morwen’s mouth and then handed her the drink. “Sip slowly,”

Morwen did so. It was more of that green wine. She would have to thank Ootha if they ever went back there. Zaphyra told Morwen to go to sleep and rest. Garuk would take the first watch, then she would take the second. Zaphyra explained that Morwen would just need to sit by the fire for a third, and if anyone entered the camp, just yell for them.

Morwen’s sleep was fitful, she was haunted by that one phrase. During her watch, she tried and tried to remember why she felt so sick over that statement, but nothing came. She almost dozed off when the sun rose, but was jarred awake by the discomfort from the morning rays. She donned her cloak and sat back down.

Zaphyra came out moments later and told Morwen to go wash up. Zaphyra stoked the fire and pulled out supplies to cook their morning meal. Morwen returned to the smell of eggs and bacon. But was confused, because it smelled so much like her old world. She guessed they would have such things here since they did have pigs and chickens.

Morwen’s stomach growled, audibly as she stood watching Zaphyra cooking. Zaphyra smiled and turned to Morwen. “Feeling better?” she asked. “I guess you’re hungry, right?” Morwen nodded and sat by the fire to wait. Zaphyra yelled for Garuk to hurry and come out or he’d miss the meal and have to go hungry until midday.

That threat drew Garuk out instantly. Completely unaware of his state of dress or his morning situation, he sat by the fire. Zaphyra stared at him, Morwen was looking out into the Forrest, her cheeks pale blue. “You planning something nefarious, brother?” asked Zaphyra. Garuk looked at her dumbly.

Garuk had come out of his tent, wearing nothing but his loincloth, but hadn’t tucked himself. From the look of it, he would have had a difficult time tucking, because he sported a raging hard-on. Zaphyra cleared her throat and pointed to Garuk’s crotch.

“You want to go take care of that?” she asked, trying hard to suppress a laugh. “I’ll set some aside for you if you hurry.” Garuk followed Zaphyra’s finger and looked down, just noticing his erection. He apologized and walked into a stand of trees behind the camp.

Zaphyra and Morwen were giggling softly as they couldn’t help but overhear the grunts and expletives as Garuk took care of himself. A few moments later, they heard a loud “Oh GRUUMSH!” and then a deep sigh. Garuk walked back into the clearing, adjusting his loincloth, and sat down.

They all ate in silence. When they finished Garuk collected the cooking utensils and made to wash them. Zaphyra giggled and then snorted to keep herself from laughing. Garuk stopped and turned on her.

“You think that was funny?” he asked in an accusatory tone. “Maybe next time, I’ll just bend you over and spear your Tyr-forsaken box!” Zaphyra rewarded Garuk with a mock cringe and shiver.

“I’d tear it off and cook it for supper,” she threatened. “You need more than that twig to satisfy me!”

The siblings growled at each other for a few moments, then continued their chores. Morwen had to smile at their banter. She guessed that kind of thing was natural with their tribe in this world. She quietly got up and packed her things, leaving the heavy work of stowing the tents to Garuk.

Before long they were packed and ready to head out. Zaphyra determined to reach the outskirts of Waterdeep by dusk. They would camp within sight of the Southwest Gate, which would give them the added protection of being in sight of the gate Guards.

No one would start anything with City Guards watching. They can take their time and enter the Trade Ward at their leisure. Zaphyra led the march as they left the clearing. Head high and a satisfied grin on her face. “Today is a good day,” she thought.

The sun climbed as they trekked on and Morwen grew warmer and sweatier as the sun grew brighter. She knew she was the only one suffering here, but could barely take the heat anymore. She cursed the body she’d been given for its weaknesses. It must have been aloud because Zaphyra stopped then.

“A bit steamed in there?” she asked with a smile. Morwen scowled from under her hood and answered sarcastically.

“More like stewed,” she growled. “Steamed would at least be dryer,” Morwen felt a bit jealous and a twinge of anger rising. She was bundled like so much cargo, while Zaphyra walked around half naked. She let out a frustrated scream and a torrent of water splashed down from the skies atop the party, drenching them in an ice-cold shower.

Zaphyra initially began to rage at the unexpected deluge but stopped when she realized Morwen was laughing. Not just a giggle, the Drow was cackling manically, her arms outstretched and her hood fallen back. She stopped when she felt the sun start to burn her face, and pulled her hood up.

“Well that was refreshing,” she said. Then walked over and began brushing water off of Zaphyra’s chest with the sleeves of her cloak. Zaphyra laughed at the childish gesture and hugged Morwen close.

“Now that we’ve bathed,” Zaphyra said, “Shall we get moving again?” with soggy clothes and packs, the trio began forward again, once more down their path.

Just after high sun, they saw a wagon sitting in the middle of the path. It looked like a merchant wagon. Wide with high sides. There appeared to be stanchions affixed along the sides that were probably used to raise a tarp over the wagon when it rained. A single horse stood hitched to the front of it.

As they got closer, the horse seemed to become nervous and began stomping one hoof. Morwen stopped Garuk and Zaphyra and said. “I smell something,” then sniffed audibly. “It’s a dog, a wet dog,” then considered a moment, “It’s too strong for one dog, maybe four or five dogs?”

Before anyone could move, four human men stepped onto the path, one of them held a leather strap that ended on the collar around the neck of a Dire Wolf. The animal was covered in dark gray fur, streaked with black stripes. It stood nearly two meters high and seemed about four meters from snout to tail.

The huge beast was snarling, its gleaming white fangs exposed and a long pink tongue darting in and out as it stood there. It wasn’t straining against its lead, but Zaphyra thought that if he dropped it, the animal might spring forward and attack.