Chapter 6

Seven days out at sea, and the trip seemed to be progressing well. Garuk and Zaphyra had been given jobs as a night watch. Garuk would sit in the crow’s nest and Zaphyra would roam the deck, searching for oncoming ships, natural threats, or unexpected land formations.

Morwen had been tasked with keeping a weather watch. Being an Elf, the Captain thought she would be most sensitive to changing weather patterns. Morwen was just happy with a job that required little responsibility. Unintentionally, she had also become the entertainment and morale director.

Having adjusted to being out in the Sun, though still preferring darkness, Morwen would spend the early evenings and most of the night sitting atop the Bowsprit. It was the best place to tell if wind direction changed or if swells arose that might trouble the ship.

The unintended part was due to Morwen sitting atop the Bowsprit stark naked. Her obsidian skin shone in the waning Sunlight and her tattoos glowing in the Moonlight. Her snow-white hair would billow out behind her as the ship sailed. None dared approach her though. Drow were still taboo.

That didn’t stop them from looking, though. Morwen didn’t mind being ogled. She was too busy enjoying the sea spray against her naked skin. It felt almost like having her skin exfoliated back on Earth. The coolness of the water also felt good. She’d never tell anyone, but a spray from below would dowse her pussy and make her cum after a while.

On the tenth day, the shores of Alaron came into view. The crew was looking forward to going ashore for a while, even if just to restock. They would have half a day before getting underway for their journey around the Moonshaes to Winterglen. Zaphyra took Morwen ashore to find her some new clothes. Garuk said he was going to find a proper pint.

They found Morwen a fine set of replacements. These were a bit more Elvish. A sleeveless tunic that had hard leather inside for protection. The outer shell was midnight blue with gold and silver scrolling. A set of matching pauldrons covered the shoulders.

Her new slacks were simple midnight blue with straight gold piping down the outside of the leg. She also wore tall, black riding boots of soft leather, and a set of solid silver bracers completed the ensemble. With her cloak in place, Morwen was now the image of a proper Drow Priestess.

Morwen and Zaphyra found Garuk at a seedy-looking tavern sitting atop a cask of mead. He was dining from a stone tankard and waving his sword around to keep others away. “I Pai ... paid fer this!” he was yelling, “Keep your paws and claws away!” it was obvious he was drunk. Zaphyra approached the Bartender.

“Did he actually buy that?” she asked. The Bartender nodded. He gave her a sideways look, then asked.

“You know him?” Zaphyra nodded and told him Garuk was her brother. “Well, get him and that cask out of here before I call the City Guard!” he motioned to the crowd surrounding the cask. “It was my last barrel of mead. If my place gets wrecked I’m taking it out in blood and bone.”

As the women approached, Garuk smiled. “Oy! Look what I got here!” he called out. But he didn’t get a chance to finish. Morwen sedated him and he fell asleep. Zaphyra told her to imagine him floating above the ground, and she was able to levitate the drunken Barbarian.

Zaphyra hefted the cask over her shoulder and they all left, making straight for the docks and the ship that would take them off his rock and to their destination. Aboard the ship, Zaphyra was allowed to take the cask below and stow it in their wagon. Captain said that would be her one trip for the day.

“Make sure he’s sober for his watch tonight!” The Captain yelled as they floated Garuk below decks. “I’ll throw him into the deep if he misses the watch!” Zaphyra would have Morwen look through her spell book for clerical healing magic and practice it getting Garuk sober for the night.

The ship sailed just after Mid-Day on its week-long jaunt around the Isles. By this time at week’s end, they would dock at Winterglen and be rid of the Barbarians and their Drow. Even the Captain had to admit, she was nice to look at and hadn’t acted like a Drow at all. But she was a distraction. Sitting naked all night. The men could hardly hold back anymore. There had better be a brothel on Winterglen.

A few days along they encountered several ships traveling in the opposite direction in the Strait of Alaron. The Boatswain hailed one passing by and asked about the ports and services along the coast going to Winterglen. Most just laughed, but one gave them some good information.

“Any companionship you’re looking for you’ll need to port at Caervu and trek inland to the Myrloch Vale,” he made a few uncouth gestures then added. “They’ve got a hot spring village with Fae folk that’ll knock your boots off.” The crew of both ships began laughing.

Then he got somber and remarked. “If you’re headed to Winterglen, you’ll want to moor in the bay at Grimstad,” His voice was a near whisper but still carried. “It’s surrounded by tall stands of trees, at least half and again taller than your Mainmast.” then with a scowl. “Keeps the cursed Giants from seeing you.”

Their Boatswain thanked his counterpart and they sailed on. He promised the crew they’d return to Caervu after unloading in Grimstad. The trio hadn’t been a problem, per se, but having a shapely barbarian who was obviously in heat, and a Drow who practiced nudism was bloody distracting.

Well, three more days and they’d be rid of the distraction and able to resume normal work. The Moonshaes were a place they’d wanted to see, but they didn’t look very profitable. Captain would most likely want to go back to skimming along the Sword Coast. Better class of scoundrel and more gold to be had along there. The ship entered Grimstad Bay early on the third day. They could hear low howls carried on the wind. It was a good bet that those were the muffled growls and grunting of Giants. After all, Oman’s Isle was only another few hours West of their current position. They’d have to make a swift and quiet retreat to the East when done here.

The crew worked swiftly to unload the wagon and horse for Zaphyra and her party. Normally, they’d stay until the next morning, but the Captain wanted to be away and before high sun. With any luck, they could pull into Caervu again not long after dark.

Now back on solid ground, Zaphyra drove the wagon toward their destination. Skiff secured to the rear of the wagon bed, Garuk rode in back as rear guard. Morwen sat up front with Zaphyra. They planned to stay on the road that led around the dense forest instead of through it. It would add a whole day to their travel, but was safer.

It was said that the forests of Gynneth were home to Norland Raiders and the Llewyrr Elves. No one knew for sure if the Llewyrr still existed. Humans had pushed them out of their homes centuries ago. They were said to have sworn a blood oath to kill the Humans, but that never came to pass. Still, some say they see one or two darting through the forests now and again.

That night they made camp in a small clearing off the road. In the waning light, they could just see the Iron Keep across the straits to the West. South of that was the Hills of Stonebone. Stories had it that the Stone Giants who came to Oman did so to defend the Iron Keep from invaders and poachers. They say the hills were a gift from their patron deity.

Just passed midnight, Morwen awoke screaming. Garuk and Zaphyra were immediately awake and by her side. Her face was contorted in pain her body seemed to be trying to twist itself at odd angles. Zaphyra reached for her to try and stop the convulsion but was topped by a low rasping voice.

“Touch the dark one not!” it warned. “Trespassing you all are on the land of the High Lady.” before the brother and sister could respond, their limbs were bound by an invisible force and they fell to the ground. “Removed you will be,” the voice went on. “And all your filth with you will go!”

A bright light engulfed them. It burned their eyes and made it impossible to see. When the light faded, Morwen was no longer screaming but lay panting and gasping for breath. Their entire camp had been moved in an instant. It was still dark but despite the limited vision, Zaphyra could feel the ground vibrating under them.

Zaphyra stood and looked around. In one direction she saw a campfire briefly before it was extinguished. She had a bad feeling that had been their campfire and they were now on Oman’s Isle and probably at the foot of the Rockyglades. This was very bad news. That vibration underfoot was most likely Giants.

Zaphyra began rifling through the wagon for weapons while Garuk rummaged for items to use to build a barricade of sorts. Morwen was still unconscious, but that might be for the best. Chances were that the Anti-Magic field they’d been exposed to was still there. She couldn’t think of any other reason Morwen would be in such pain. It must have been stripping her of mana.

Their fears were confirmed when Garuk told Zaphyra he saw four torches approaching. All he could make out were large floating flames, but they seemed in a formation as if being carried. As the Giants approached, Zaphyra could make out features. They were without a doubt Stone Giants. Just as she made that identification, a large boulder smashed down onto the wagon and splintered it.

Morwen’s limp body rolled to the ground and lay still in the approaching firelight. Four Stone Giants appeared and surrounded the traveler. They had to be twelve, or maybe fifteen feet tall. Thin, as far as Giants went, narrow limbs and neck with a bulbous head. They were hairless and wore large animal skins. They planted their torches next to them and squatted to examine their catch.

The one kneeling closest to Morwen lifted her and showed her to his three companions. “Oy! Hundar!” he grumbled. The sound echoed through the surrounding area. “Gots a black elf ‘ere.” He began shaking her back and forth like a rag doll.

The one that he referred to as Hundar, laughed and then addressed one to his left. “Falkh, Oy Falkh! These two a much bigger than the halflings,” he said, grabbing Garuk in his lanky gray-skinned fist.

Falkh responded. “If we’s tear ‘em in two we could still play stuff-stuff,” He turned to the fourth and said. “Slice ‘em up for us Gurag!” insisted Falkh.

That was when the first Giant took Morwen and called the other three to look at him. “Whatcha gonna do with that, Grula?” asked Hundar. Grula upended Morwen and held up his right hand. He made a fist and then extended his pinky finger.

“Look!” he said, then slid Morwen down over his pinky. His smallest finger was the size of a small tree trunk in comparison to the Elf. It spread her legs and forcibly rammed its way into her channel, nearly splitting her in half. Morwen screamed as the Giant’s finger began fucking her to death. He was bouncing her up and down. Then let out a loud, gruff laugh.

“Finger Puppet! Ha Ha Ha Ha!” he guffawed as his friends looked on. Morwen’s screams grew louder and louder. The only thing keeping her alive was the remaining mana in her body. But that wasn’t likely to last much longer.

Meanwhile, Gurag ha laid the struggling barbarians on the ground side by side and in one swift motion brought a huge stone knife down on them. With a sickening crack, their bodies were cleaved in two. Blood sprayed in all directions. Gurag picked up two of the dismembered pieces then threw them to Hundar and yelled, “Here! Stuff-Stuff!” Hundar caught the chunks of severed Barbarian and shoved them into his mouth sideways. He then pointed back to Gurag and in a muffled voice yelled “Stuff Stuff!” At that, Gurag grabbed the remaining pieces of body and did the same.

Seeing this Grula threw Morwen to the ground and demanded a piece from each of his friends. Without thought, and not knowing how she was even able to move on her own, Morwen stood and began to run. She didn’t know where she was going, or in what direction, she just ran.

She could feel what must have been blood running down her legs and felt the tearing pain as she moved, but was too scared to stop or look back. At one point she felt mana surge in her body and thought she must be away from whatever was draining her. She wouldn’t stop though, couldn’t stop.

Behind her, she heard Grula yell, “Hey! Where finger puppet?” the words made her guts roil, she nearly stumbled and fell, wanting to vomit, but she kept moving. Little by little her darkvision was returning to her.

She didn’t know how long she’d run, but the mountains were finally behind her, and an open plain stretched out ahead of her. When she finally allowed herself to stop and drop to the ground, she felt ready to lie down and die. Her trousers were shredded and her legs were covered in a thick viscous blue goo that she thought must be her blood, drying on her legs.

Morwen tried to focus on drawing mana to heal herself, but a sharp pain ran through her body as she did. She stripped off what remained of the trousers and wrapped her waist and crotch in them to stem any further bleeding. At least she still had her cloak.

Morwen rummaged in the inner pockets and finally found a water skin, she drank from it, pleased to find that it was her tea. After sating her thirst she put it away and sat, taking deep breaths. She looked around trying to get her bearings. She didn’t know this place, she relied on Zaphyra to help her. This wasn’t her world. Then she heaved and bent forward and vomited.

“Oh God! Roxy!” she shouted aloud, then paused, wondering who Roxy was and why she’d called out that name. Zaphyra had been eaten by those Giants, and so had Garuk. The memory of that sight made her heave again, but there was nothing in her stomach to throw up. “Help me.” she cried in a weak voice. “Someone? Anyone?”

Morwen must have passed out sometime after that. When she awoke she was lying in a patch of high grass. Her cloak covered her and a pain in her gut that wouldn’t go away. The sun was bright and hurt her eyes. She pulled her hood up and close to shield herself.

She looked down at the dark blue streaks running down the length of her legs and disappearing into her boots. Gingerly she ran her hands over her midsection then down. Afraid of what she would feel. She undid the bundle of cloth around her waist and examined her crotch. The pain was instant, and intense as her fingers touched her pubic mound. However, she didn’t find anything torn or broken. She reached for mana again and this time there was only a twinge of pain. She succeeded in healing herself. She could hear water running somewhere ahead of her. She gathered herself up and started walking toward the sound.

After about an hour. Or so she thought. Morwen came to the bank of a small stream. A cool breeze rose and the light spray of fresh water wafted across her face and exposed legs. It felt wonderful. She quickly stripped down. Now completely bare she stepped into the cold running stream.

For several minutes she just allowed the waters to flow over her body, cooling her and cleaning away the dirt and blood of her previous encounter. When she felt better, she stepped out and began to rummage in her cloak for an empty skin. She found a mostly empty wineskin and poured it out.

Fresh, clean water seemed more important to Morwen at this point. Plus, she still had several skins of her favorite tea. She didn’t know how these magic pockets worked but was glad they did. She drank her fill then refilled the skin, put it away, and lay in the grass, nude, basking in the mid-morning sun.

When it became too hot to lay around, Morwen got up and took stock of what she had to wear. The wagon with all their gear was gone. She had her cloak and some tattered clothing. She pulled a dagger from the inner pocket of her cloak and began cutting the remains of her blouse into strips. She used thin strips from the heavier trousers to make tie strings.

After about two or so hours, she had two serviceable bikinis. They would never be featured on the runways of New York or Paris, but they would work for her needs here and now. “Where was New York and Paris?” she wondered as the strange comparison hit her. Again, more flashes of her old life. Would they ever stop? Was it something she needed?

Looking around again, she caught sight of the Iron Keep. The castle Zaphyra had spoken of. She had said it would be north of their position when they made landfall, so that must be to the North. Morwen had no idea how long it would take to get there. It looked so far away. Morwen sighed and determinedly marched forward, headed to the Keep.

The day passed quickly for Morwen, and night fell giving her some relief and renewed vigor. Her darkvision had returned and she felt light and could travel faster in the dark. She assumed that was a Drow trait. Her stamina began to fail after several hours, and Morwen looked for a place to settle in for a while.

Morwen noticed what looked like campfires to the east, and headed in that direction. Not sure what she would find there, she tried to stay low and go unnoticed as she went. A small village came into view. There were large tree trunks surrounding it that had been sharpened at the end and laid at an angle to deter anyone from entering. Anyone big, she thought.