Chapter 7

Morwen awoke screaming once again. This time there was no one around to hear her or try to comfort her. It seemed that even her new servants had abandoned her. She wasn’t sure how they did that with the curse on them, but Nexir had run away from his Mistress, so it was possible.

She got up, stripped off her clothes, and picked up a water skin and the top piece of her makeshift bikini to use as a washcloth. She wiped herself down with cool water and relished the warm sunlight that came in through the opening in the destroyed wall.

A sudden noise made her turn. In her time in this world, Morwen had lost any semblance of modesty and didn’t care who saw her naked. So far, everyone admired her body and seemed to want to see as much of it as she would allow.

“Forgive the intrusion,” said Quiltran in a humble voice. His eyes cast down toward the ground. “Captain Quildorl ordered me to bring you a new set of clothing for our journey.” Morwen was somewhat nonplussed. She wasn’t sure what journey he was speaking of.

“What journey?” Morwen asked. Her tone was a bit more harsh than she intended with him.

“Captain didn’t want to wake you last night,” Quiltran’s hands were trembling now. “Said we didn’t have enough men to storm the keep and would need to go to port to hire more,” He held out a bundle tied with a silver cord that had silver tassels bound by gold threads at the ends.

“It isn’t your fault, Quiltran,” Morwen said, more softly. “I will deal with Captain Quildorl myself,” She accepted the bundle and pointed to her worn clothes. “Thank you, I’ll be done shortly.”

Morwen unwrapped the new clothing and was surprised at how formal they looked. Trousers of the darkest blue she’d ever seen, with a silver pipe down each leg, with golden thread woven into the silver line. A sleeveless tunic of the same color and style with golden and silver scrolling across the front and back. But two features stood out the most.

The back of the tunic was decorated with a large silver web pattern that held a single large red ruby at the center. This she had seen before. It was Lolth’s crest. The other was a Silver pauldron over the left shoulder with gold braids sewn into it and tassels hanging from the edge.

There were pockets sewn into the trousers and tunic, and Morwen found that they didn’t seem to have a bottom, much like her cloak. She donned her cloak over her new ensemble and threw one side back exposing the pauldron. When she turned to Quiltran he snapped to attention and saluted.

Morwen had thought this looked somewhat like a Military uniform, now she knew. She asks Quiltran. “Did Captain Quildorl appoint me to a rank?” Quiltran nodded crisply, holding his salute. “Yes Ma’am!” he said loudly and in a clear voice. “ Captain Quildorl Baenervs, in command of the Fine Sloop Radiant Sword, has dubbed our Priestess Morwen Commodore of the Voyage,” He stopped momentarily to take a breath, then finished. “It is his fond desire that you act as Matron of the Ship until you see fit to leave our decks,” he bowed with an exaggerated flourish.

Morwen sighed. “Lead me to the ship, crewman,” Then strode out of the broken longhouse, letting the end of her cloak billow over Quiltran’s head as she went. Quiltran hurried up alongside her, then said,

“This way,” and very slowly inched past her and then out in front. It took them about an hour to reach the shore and the small dock at which the Sloop was moored. Morwen had to admit, that it was as nice a ship as any she’d seen in her previous life. She hoped her cabin would be comfortable.

They could see the sloop as they approached the shore. A long gangway stretched to the shore from the ship’s foredeck. An outlandishly dressed Drow stood at the top of the ramp. He was dressed in black that was adorned with silver and gold scrollwork, god tassels hung from the shoulders and a short cape with gold and silver scrollwork hung from one shoulder.

As they drew closer, they heard the whistles from the Boatswain’s pipe. Then he called out in a loud voice. “Now coming aboard!” he began. “The Lady, High Priestess Morwen!” he waited a few beats for Morwen to ascend the ramp then, “All Hands! Officer On Deck! Welcome Aboard Commodore!” then he bowed deeply at the waist.

This was way too much for Morwen, and she simply waved him off. She did this because she was unaware of how to respond. But in the minds of the crew, they saw an officer aware of her station and rightfully disdainful of those below her. As long as they didn’t question her, Morwen was happy.

As it turned out, the Captain had given Morwen his cabin. He said he would bunk with his crew. Since Morwen was the ranking officer aboard, she would get the largest cabin. She was given a rundown of the daily running of the ship and told they would be headed out of the Moonshaes and into the Sea of Swords.

Once underway, they traveled south along the Sword Coast for nearly one month before reaching port at Candlekeep. This trip was uneventful, and would most likely be so until they reached the foot of the Cloud Peaks. Sure, they were looking for a band of Mercenaries, but the Cloud Peaks were rife with disreputable gangs that search for unsuspecting targets.

Now, nearly two and a half months into their journey and having to constantly supply the crew with blessings of food and drink that taxed her mana terribly, Morwen was ready to just give up. It took so long to accomplish anything in this world. She was relieved though, when Captain Quildorl pointed out an abandoned mining camp at the base of the hills near the mountain pass across the Cloud Peak.

The camp was fairly small and was built around a single shaft that was dug straight down in the center of the camp. They most likely mined rare ores here at one time. Quildorl sent several men to secure a bunkhouse and make it usable. The rest filed into the Canteen. Morwen had been getting rather good at basic spell craft and took no time at all to clean the galley and the scullery.

Once the Canteen was prepared to use, the remainder of the crew left to scrounge food stuffs, and maybe hunt down some meat. That left Morwen alone with Captain Quildorl to discuss the hiring of Mercenaries and the return to Oman and the Iron Keep.

Morwen spotted a rather well-kept chair at the head of the long dining table. It wasn’t as dusty or torn apart as the rest of the furniture. It was rather well-appointed. Morwen assumed it had been the Foreman’s chair, or whomever the boss was. She decided to sit there while she discussed things with Quildorl.

Just as she sat down, Quildorl jumped up and tried to stop her from sitting. Unfortunately, he was too late. All at once, long tentacle-like pseudopods erupted from all sides of the chair. One lashed out and slapped Quildorl in the head, knocking him down and disorienting him.

Morwen was grabbed around the waist and forced down into the chair. A sticky substance coated her exposed skin and held her tight to the living piece of furniture. As pseudopod after pseudopod wrapped themselves around her body, Morwen felt something scraping against the underside of her thighs.

There seemed to be a gap under her bottom now as well. Air rushed in and out under her as she began to struggle. It became apparent that a large mouth was opening, ready to devour her. She came to this conclusion because the pseudopods were removing her clothing. They began tearing and pulling, but her now garb was tear-proof, so it only succeeded in undressing her.

A thick pseudopod came up from below, this one more akin to a tongue, and it dragged itself across her exposed crotch. There was a burning sensation but also a sense of intense pleasure. Whatever the caustic substance was, her Drow skin and the enchantments on her were neutralizing it, causing the substance to act like an aphrodisiac.

Morwen moaned loudly as the pseudopods explored her body, seeking some purchase to begin devouring their newfound morsel. They roamed over her breasts, flicked her nipples, dug into her navel, and ran over her sensitive genitals. Nothing was accomplished but to make her horny.

Suddenly, the thick one, the tongue-like appendage, shot up and forced its way into her pussy. Morwen’s channel spread to admit the invading tongue. It twirled and began to change shape. Morwen wasn’t sure why she didn’t immediately consider that a monster that could turn itself into a chair, wouldn’t be a shapeshifter, but here it was.

The appendage inside of her was now shaped like a penis and it was pushing deeper and deeper, minute by minute, trying to wind its way inside her body. Meanwhile, a second pseudopod joined its big brother and shoved its way into Morwen’s anus.

She arched her back, tried to jump away, and squealed as her ass was fucked by a sticky, adhesive pseudopod. Her skin began to feel like a piece of flypaper. It was then she noticed Quildorl come up and try to use his dagger to cut away the pseudopods.

His efforts were in vain as the pseudopods began to fight back grabbing him and tearing at his clothes now. They seemed to find better purchase with this specimen and began to devour him with its acid. Morwen began to scream now and if she didn’t know better she’d say this thing was a pervert.

Most likely acting on instinct and using anything at its disposal, the pseudopod holding the dying Captain shoved its captive’s now hard cock into Morwen’s mouth. It had the same sticky texture that was holding her. When his flesh touched the inside of her mouth, the curse of servitude on him activated and he screamed in pain as his wounds began to heal.

She had not given him leave to die, so it was healing him. Morwen felt guilty about enjoying his cock while being fucked by a monster that was trying to eat her. She’d never been eaten and fucked by a chair. And despite the sticky residue, she found that a Drow cock tasted different than a Barbarian cock or any other she’d ever tasted.

There was suddenly a commotion at the door to the canteen. The crew had returned to see their captain and their Priestess begin eaten by a Mimic. Just then Quildorl stiffened and thrust his hips forward. With another scream of pain, he shot a load of cum down Morwen’s throat. Morwen began to glow. She heard the crew yelling and telling each other to get back.

She felt the burning of the Mana she was drawing in from the creature. She felt the creature trying to draw it back. Whatever it was doing, the Captain was still half dead and still had an erection and she was still sucking it. Likewise, the Mimic was still fucking her other holes and twisting her nipples.

Suddenly a bright blue flame erupted from her body and Quildorl was thrown back and dropped to the floor with severed pseudopods still attached. The entire canteen reverberated as Morwen shouted in Drow, “El L’puul Aterruce!” Not more than a second later, the chair, all the pseudopods, and the probing tongue erupted in a spray of gore. To Morwen’s horror, the force of the Mimic exploding with its thick tongue buried deep in her pussy, sent a Shockwave through her that made her cum, so hard and so violently that she nearly passed out. She felt all of her mana leave her body and exhaustion set in. There was nothing she could do. She resigned herself to that fact and promptly passed out.

Morwen had the most wonderful, most peaceful dream. Unfortunately, it all vanished when she opened her eyes. A sudden chill ran through her body then was replaced by a wash of warm air. She was lying naked on the floor of the Canteen. Her arms were folded across her chest and her hair splayed out around her head and shoulders.

She sat up so suddenly that she felt dizzy. Then she had to contend with the sudden gasps and excited cries as the entire crew sat naked in a circle around her body. They all began praising Lolth for allowing their Priestess’s soul to remain in her body. She looked around and saw Captain Quildorl’s naked form on the long table behind the crew members.

Her eyes fell on Quiltran who had been sitting closest, silent and gazing at her. “What?” she asked. Quiltran stopped her mid-sentence.

“You have been in the sleep of the dead for three days,” He gestured to the crew. “We have prayed for your return.” Then he dropped his gaze. “The Captain though, is dead.” The news was more jarring than she’d expected. She saw his body but didn’t consider that it was a corpse. Morwen jumped to her feet, startling the crew. Upon standing, she could now see the hole in the Captain’s chest.

Her mind hadn’t processed the fact that the pseudopod that held the Captain all that time hadn’t merely wrapped around him, but had punctured his chest, then wrapped around. She felt suddenly sick and fell to her knees heaving. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up.

“How long are you going to leave him there?” Morwen asked. The crew members just looked at each other. Then Quiltran spoke up.

“We only waited for you to bless him and entomb his body.” He waited for Morwen to respond. Morwen was less certain of what to do, so she just issued an order.

“Get me my cloak,” she demanded. “And some food. “I’m going to the bunkhouse for a while, to...” she paused, trying to think of a safe excuse. “To meditate.” She was handed her cloak which she donned rapidly, and strode toward the bunkhouse. Quiltran assured her that food would be forthcoming. “Knock before entering!” she warned in a tone that brooked no argument.