Chapter 1

The journal page lay blank, save for a few spots of ink that had dripped from the quill as Duke Wellum had held it over the paper. He’d thought that now would be the perfect time to begin working out a revenge plot, while his rage was still hot, but he couldn’t think of a single idea to write down.

It was probably for the best. Writing in a moving carriage was a nightmare, between the constant jostling over stone-ridden dirt roads and the noise of horses and armored soldiers outside. He sighed and put his writing instruments away just before the carriage shuddered to a stop.

Wellum poked his head out and saw the armed escort of soldiers dismount their horses and lead them to a stream to drink. Fair enough, really, as they’d been traveling for quite a while. But irritation and apprehension made his stomach squirm nonetheless. It was bad enough that he was essentially being exiled to a country ruled by abominations. Taking their time on the journey there only made the anticipation worse.

With his wife, Agana, asleep in the seat across from him and his grown children in a different carriage, Wellum had nothing to do but watch the soldiers, though the sight of them turned his stomach. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen in his life.

Their most obvious feature was that they were absolutely gargantuan. The shortest one he’d seen towered head, shoulders, and chest over Wellum, and he wasn’t a short man. They wore surprisingly little armor to show off their muscled physiques, with thighs as big around as an entire boar and arms that looked capable of shattering steel chains, all oiled to protect against the sun. And yet, they were more odd to his eyes than they were intimidating. The fact that they all had breasts bigger than his head probably had something to do with it.

Yes, every single one of them was ... well, not a woman. Not precisely. Because despite the breasts and broad hips, resting between their legs were not one, but two gigantic penises, with an appropriately large pair of testicles dangling beneath. He’d yet to see one of those thick, swaying members smaller than his forearm, even when flaccid.

The way they openly displayed their absurd bodies defied every law of civilized behavior. The only solid steel armor they wore were simple helmets and breastplates that emphasized the breast by being molded around the things. The rest was basically scraps of leather and mail, while leaving their arms, legs, and midriff open.

Worst of all, those beastly male appendages were left out to flop around as they walked. The soldiers wore some type of bizarre armor on them, like a sleeve made of interlocking steel plates that could expand in size when one of them got an erection, which happened often. The tips were left exposed, and strangely one of each pair had a bluish tip, and the other slightly too vibrant of a pink to look natural.

“You just can’t help but stare, eh? I don’t blame you, I’m damn proud of my soldiers.”

Wellum jumped in his seat and pulled his head back into the carriage, before peeking back out to see who had spoken. A soldier bigger than any of the others by far walked up to the carriage with a grin. She leaned against the carriage, and the whole thing tilted and groaned against her weight.

“Anallan, captain of Thutallion’s royal guard,” she said. “We spoke briefly at the beginning of the journey, but I didn’t get the chance to properly introduce myself. We’re going to be breaking for a while, would you care to get out and stretch your legs?”

Wellum grunted and climbed out of the carriage. It wasn’t his own; as it had been sent from Thutallion itself, it was sized for one of its residents, and so he had to clamber down the small helper steps before he was finally on solid ground.

Captain Anallan looked back out at her soldiers as they set out a meal with a satisfied smile.

“They’re incredible soldiers, every one. You’ll be as safe as safe can be on the way to Thutallion, sir diplomat. No bandits would dare attack a convoy of thutani soldiers.”

Wellum should be so lucky to be killed by bandits on the way. The road didn’t frighten him, it was thoughts of the destination that made his heart sink.

“They seem awfully ... exposed,” he noted. “Particularly their ... ah...”

Anallan chuckled.

“Oh, you mean our wands and orbs.” She patted her ponderous “orbs,” causing them to sway between her legs. She was so tall that they were very nearly eye-level to Wellum, and he looked away with a frown.

“We’re not as vulnerable as you might think. Try hitting them.”

Wellum guffawed.

“You don’t mean- I’m not touching them. Er ... it wouldn’t be appropriate, I mean.”

Anallan’s grin only widened.

“You’re going to really have to change your thoughts on what’s appropriate if you’re going to be living in Thutallion. C’mon, just do it.”

She thrusted her hips, and her pumpkin-sized orbs swung towards him. Out of pure reflex, the duke held up a warding hand.

And by the devils of the south, it felt like he nearly broke his hand when her sack slapped against it. The skin itself was soft, but the orbs themselves were shockingly firm - like a cannonball wrapped in velvet.

Wellum stepped back, repulsed.

“What are you?”

It was probably fortunate that he was expending all of his horrified shock on Anallan, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care about etiquette.

“Just a thutani, sir diplomat. One of the strongest in the kingdom, but any thutani’s equipment could turn away a simple arrow. As the gender favored by the goddess Thutan, we’re simply made different.”

“Made different” was an understatement. Nobody was quite sure where thutani came from. Only males and females existed in the rest of the world, but somehow in Thutallion this mysterious “third sex” existed. Wellum, and most people, suspected magic, though thutani themselves insisted they were a creation of some goddess as Anallan had said.

Wellum shook his hand about to rid himself of the leftover sting from its impact, and then without thinking used the same hand to twist his mustache in irritation. He’d only touched the captain’s equipment briefly, but apparently it had left a distinct scent on his hand, and he recoiled when he noticed. By the gods ... it would have been easier to bear it if it had been some vile stench, but instead he was horrified to realize he liked it. Surely some sort of witchcraft.

“Well, I suppose I have no complaints about the protection, then,” he finally grumbled. “But please, don’t let your men ... Ah, your ... thutani ... dally. I’d like to have this trip over with as soon as possible.”

Throughout the rest of the trip, the duke rather wished some bandits would try and attack. His life was essentially over, and it just seemed wrong that he should be bored on the way to his metaphorical death. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep like his wife - his dear Agana could sleep through anything, bless her heart - and he still could find no inspiration for his plans of revenge.

Damn that fool king. Wellum had always hated King Ricard, but he’d always made sure to appear outwardly loyal. That was part of the duty of a duke, after all. He was loyal to the throne of Anaglond, even if the one who sat upon it was a gods-cursed idiot. But all his fealty to the crown hadn’t earned him so much as a drop of goodwill, it seemed.

Wellum should have seen it coming. Ricard was a coward, through and through, so it was no surprise that he would panic when Thutallion began claiming Anaglondian land.

Thutallion’s method of “attack,” if one could call it that, had been bizarre. Rather than send a conventional army, a single “crusader” with only a small retinue slipped across the border and had been going from town to town. Wherever said crusader went, villages and towns suddenly declared fealty to Thutallion, seemingly without bloodshed.

It just so happened that it was Wellum’s lands that the crusader had targeted first, being right on the new border between Anaglond and Thutallion. There once had been a respectable kingdom between them, but it had been absorbed into Thutallion less than a decade ago.

The king had become frightened by the invasion, and in a surpassingly stupid move had appointed Wellum as an ambassador to Thutallion. A strange plan, asking a duke to suddenly leave his invaded lands and go visit the attacker.

The king’s plan was plainly obvious to Wellum. He was essentially giving him up as a human sacrifice. Once in Thutallion, they could easily force Wellum to cede all his land to them using whatever mysterious techniques they had at their disposal. Ricard believed that he could cut off Wellum and his portion of the kingdom like a lizard’s tail to satiate the beast that was Thutallion.

Thutallion wouldn’t be satisfied with that, though. Wellum’s holdings were decent, but far from the most productive of Anaglond’s territories. They would certainly be coming for the rest before long.

And so, Wellum was being tossed into the monster’s den, all for absolutely nothing. The gods help him, but he would avenge himself before Thutallion did whatever it was they planned on doing to him. He’d make sure Ricard couldn’t squirm his way to safety with more underhanded tactics.

It took only two days for them to reach the border between Thutallion and Anaglond. Quite a long time to sit in a carriage and stew, but not long at all when Wellum considered how quickly an invading force could have reached his own home. Perhaps he’d been always doomed to be taken away to this cursed place, though he’d have rather gone out fighting than be handed over on a silver platter.

Thutallion’s lands didn’t look too different from his own - though these would have been owned by the nation of Krafna, before Thutallion had consumed it. It had happened with cheers and applause on the part of the Krafnians, he’d heard. He’d assumed that was some sort of propaganda put out by Thutallion, but when he’d spoken directly to one of his own former lords who had seceded to Thutallion, he had sounded entirely sincere in his praise for them. He still didn’t know what to make of that.

That evening, they stopped in a small town named Sampar. Wellum had been there once before, back when it had been a part of Krafna, when he had been negotiating a trade agreement. Somehow, he had expected it to be in rubbles, or at least crawling with thutani, but it didn’t seem all that different than before. Dared he hope that Thutallion was actually an ordinary, respectable nation? The thutani made that seem impossible, but perhaps that was the country’s only quirk.

A crowd gathered as they entered the city, the citizens cheering and waving at the thutani soldiers as they entered. Agana poked her head out of the carriage, having finally caught up on her sleep despite the bumpy road periodically jarring her awake.

“I don’t know, Wellum dear,” his wife said as she watched the joyous welcome, “they seem happy enough. Perhaps we’ll be well taken care of after all?”