Chapter 7: Dwarf-Queen's Hot Demands

Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!

Xerathalasia – Ruins of Khan, Kingdom of Haz

I smiled as I led my party into the ruins of the dwarven fortress of Khan. The wide entrance that pierced the thick, stone wall led to a courtyard. The ground had been covered by paving stones, yet despite that plants and trees had grown. The tree roots buckled up the thick paving stones. Swaths of dirt, pushed in by centuries of weather, allowed grasses and shrubs to grow.

Nature reclaimed what the dwarves had stolen. It gave me hope. Since I left the forests, it had saddened me to witness how the humans of the Magery of Thosi and the Kingdom of Haz cleared away the natural features and plants to build their homes of dead wood and unliving stone.

But nature would one day take it back.

My ears twitched as I paused in the center of the courtyard, my eyes drinking in the beauty. My ears twitched as I slowly turned. Angela, Thrak, Sophia, and Chaun stared at me, their eyes curious. They must assume I was searching for traps or secrets, relying on my keen, elven senses.

“Well?” Thrak rumbled. “How do we get down into the tunnels?”

“I do not know,” I answered him.

“There should be a tunnel,” Sophia said. She pulled a map drawn on aged-brown paper and unfolded it. She had removed the map from the Library of Khalesithan. It was a detailed map of the known world. “See, there is a marking here at Khan. That’s the point of this place, to lead down to the dwarf kingdom.”

“Let’s start searching,” Angela said. “Faoril, I think now is as good a time as any to put the horses to sleep.”

“Yes,” the mage agreed before downing a vial of Thrak’s cum. She slipped off her mare Buttercup. Faoril gave the dun horse a gentle pat on the nose. Over a month ago, Faoril had hated both riding and Buttercup, but now the mage sat a horse as well as Angela, Sophia, and Chaun. “You’re going to have sweet dreams. Yes, you are.”

The four horses were brought together and their saddles and saddlebags stripped off. Though Faoril did not speak as she unleashed her magic, I could hear her voice whispering on the wind. The horses eyes blinked. They swayed and whinnied. Then their eyes closed and their head drooped. They slept standing up.

“Now to put them in stasis and hide them,” Faoril said, more for our benefit. Maybe she thought we had forgotten the plan.

The horses wavered. The air danced around them, distorting the four mounts, then they vanished. I sniffed the air. Even their scent was hidden. I nodded my head, impressed by the skill of her magic. Faoril herself gave a self-satisfied nod and turned around.

“Okay, let’s find the entrance,” Angela said. “I wager it’s beneath the central keep.”

“That makes a logical sense,” I agreed.

“It should be pretty big, correct?” asked Thrak. “I remember from my history lessons that much trade passed through here. I would imagine it needed a wide entrance to allow a greater flow of traffic.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Faoril nodded. “It should line up with the entrance we walked through. Xera, is there a path?”

I peered at the ground. There was wear on the paving stones. It was slight and it was on the stones leading from the keep. I followed the path, everyone trailing behind me, and came upon a stone wall of the keep.

“Well, that didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

“No, no,” I said. “This was covered up. The stones here are newer. The dwarves bricked up this wall.”

“That’s great,” muttered Thrak.

“I could use my magic,” Faoril said. “Though I might bring the entire keep down. I can’t be sure without an examination.”

“Well, there still might be another way down,” Angela insisted. “So they closed up the big hole. We still need to search the keep. Meanwhile, Faoril can conduct her inspection.”

“I’ll need Thrak’s help.”

“Of course you will,” Chaun smiled, his velvety voice a soft purr.

“He is knowledgeable about engineering,” protested Faoril. “That’s all.”

“Absolutely, madam mage.”

My pussy grew wet as Chaun bowed, his tight hose clinging to his gorgeous ass. I would have to enjoy Chaun tonight. It was my turn. The three ladies in the party who were interested took turns with him. It was only fair. “I would enjoy your company.”

The changeling bard turned his smile to me. He was as close to a male elf as you could get, no breasts, but his slim body and pointed ears made up for that. And his cock. It was an impressive specimen.

“We’re supposed to be searching,” Angela said.

“Yes, searching,” Sophia agreed. “I guess that leads me with my Mistress.” Angela’s cheeks warmed as Sophia pressed up to the knight’s side.

“Remember, just searching,” Chaun winked at Angela.

The keep was dark inside, but my eyes were keen and Sophia used a prayer from her goddess to conjure a light. We split up and passed into different rooms. I had to duck. Only Thrak was taller than me. Dwarves, apparently, were shorter than humans. Even Faoril, the shortest member of our group, would have to duck to navigate the halls.

Dust kicked up around Chaun’s and my feet as we moved deeper. My nose wrinkled. No one had trod these steps in years. The stones were in better condition the deeper we went. Nature had little effect on them.

“Stairs.” I pointed to a dark opening.

Chaun’s silver-white hair almost glowed in the near darkness, especially contrasting against his dark skin. He peered where I pointed and sighed. “I’ll take your word, noble elf. I don’t think I’ll be much use in the search.”

“Just put your hands on my hips and follow,” I answered.

“Is that the only place you want me to put my hands?”

My pussy burned. “There’ll be plenty of time for that tonight.”

I shivered as his hands grasped my hips. His thumbs stroked my naked flesh. I pressed my thighs together, taking a moment to relieve the throbbing itch afflicting my clit before I pressed forward. I brushed aside a cobweb and then descended the stairs.

Cool, damp, musty air wafted up at us. I sniffed. “There’s water in the air. The current is cool. It smells different than the rest of keep.”

“Promising,” Chaun said then bumped into me. His codpiece rubbed on my naked ass. Beneath it was his cock.

I took a deep breath and kept descending.

It grew to near darkness. Even my eyes were having trouble seeing more than a few feet before me. The stones grew damp beneath my feet before I reached the bottom. My ears twitched as I turned my head, searching for the source of the current. It came from the right of the stairs.

I took two steps and paused. Chaun bumped into me again. “What?” he asked.

“Trip wire. Very fine.” I bent down and stared at the taut piece of string across the ground. My eyes blinked. “It’s made of crystal as fine as my hair.”

“Impressive. What’s it connected to?”

“Don’t move.”

I followed the trip wire, crawling on my knees, my large breasts hanging before me. It led to a mechanism in the wall. I had little experience with such things. I gazed up at the ceiling, then down at the floor.

The stones around the trip wire were different. There was a delineated gap in the mortar between certain stones. It formed a circle that Chaun stood at the near center of. I swallowed. I was at the edge of the circle. “I think the floor falls away. We need to warn the others that there are traps.”

“Indeed.” Chaun’s voice was strangled.

Knight-Errant Angela

“Stairs must be important,” Sophia said, holding the glowing ball of pink light before her. She peered down the narrow staircase leading down into shadows.

“Yeah, it has to be in the basement,” I agreed.

Sophia went first. She clutched her enchanted dagger in the other hand. It didn’t glow at all. The blade was enchanted to reveal danger, so the ruins were safe. Her steps echoed as she marched into the darkness. My armor clinked, the sounds echoing through the ruins.

“Oh, this is an improvement. There’s a high celling.” Sophia reached the bottom and held the ball up. “I think it’s a store room. There’s a bunch of rotted casks.” Her nose wrinkled. “And it smells wet and damp down here.”

I joined her, my gaze sweeping around. There were several tunnels leading off of this room, but Sophia’s light didn’t fall too far down them. The air did feel damp down here, and the musty reek made my nose wrinkle.

“Which one should we try?” I asked.

Sophia shrugged. “How about that one?”

Her white robes swirled about her legs as she marched across the room. I strode right behind her. A crystal crunched beneath her feet. Sophia froze and peered down at her feet as the sound of crystals tinkling against stone echoed through the room.

“I think I stepped on a string of cr—” Sophia’s words ended in a yelp as she was suddenly yanked up side down by her right ankle and hauled towards the ceiling. Her robe fell down exposing her legs, ass, and pussy, bunching up at her belt. She slowly spun. “Sophia.”

Panic filled her voice. I responded with laughter.

“It’s not funny,” she said as she slowly turned. She struggled and that only made her spin faster. “Get me down.”

“Now, now,” I said as her naked ass spun past me. “That’s no way to talk to your mistress.”

“We’re not playing right now, Angela,” Sophia said. Her brown hair dragged across the ground as she spun and her pale face had gone red. She spun around and her shaved pussy was right before my lips.

“But I can just lean forward and lick you. And I bet you can nuzzle at my pussy, too.”

“Angela,” complained Sophia. “This really isn’t funny. All the blood’s rushed to my head. And my foot hurts.”

I peered up. A thin wire was wrapped about her leg. It was also made of crystal. It glinted in the light of Sophia’s pink ball. I knew Dwarves were the masters working in stone and metal, but I had no idea they could create such a marvel. How could crystal be flexible? I furrowed my eyes. Was it made of little segments? I stood on my tiptoes.

“Wow,” I breathed. It was made of little segments as wide as my pinky finger. They were somehow attached together and could bend at the joints. “Clever.”

“Please, Sophia.”

“Okay.” I drew my sword. “Brace yourself.” I swung my sword above her foot.

The crystal’s shattered. With a yelp, Sophia fell to the stone floor. Then she grunted and rolled onto her back. She stared up at me, her face contorted in pain.

“That hurt.”

“How else was I supposed to get you down?” I asked her. I knelt down. “Do you want me to kiss it better.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “But not down here. It’s creepy down here.”

“Angela, Sophia,” Xera’s voice called from above.

“We’re down here.”

“Don’t move!” The elf’s voice echoed. “The place is dotted with traps.”

“We know,” groaned Sophia.

Chaun

“So that’s it?” I asked, peering into the dark tunnel.

“Yes,” Xera nodded. “Smell it?”

“No,” Sophia answered.

I shook my head. After the discovery of the traps, Xera had explored the basement alone until she found the path that led down into the tunnels. Now we had all gathered. Two globes of floating, golden light orbited us, summoned by Faoril’s magic.

“I smell water and minerals,” she answered. “The stones are different than what the fortress was built from and the walls have been chiseled and not constructed out of blocks.” Xera pointed in that direction. “This tunnel also runs to where the dwarves covered the main entrance.”

“So that’s the beginning of the Kingdom of Modan,” Sophia said. She shivered. “I really hope we don’t run across what destroyed them.”

“Agreed,” Angela said.

Thrak uncoiled a hemp rope. “There are no more traps in this room, Xera?”

“None.”

Thrak tied the rope to a stone pillar, uncoiled it to the hole, and threw it down. He went first, sliding down the hemp and landed in the tunnel below. Xera followed, hugging the rope with her naked body.

It was an impressive sight. I smiled, my cock hard. The elf was an exciting woman. It was so strange how my powers did not work on her. There was no man whose form I could assume that she cared for in any way. Even the lesbian couldn’t say that. Sophia had, as a young girl, a crush on a stable boy.

I grasped the rope and made sure the case holding my lyre was properly secured, then slid down into the darkness. Excitement built in me. I would compose an epic song. A knight and her questing party venturing into the Fallen Kingdom of Modan to face unknown terror cloaked by darkness.

Every bard craved such a tale to sing.

The dangers and risks of my assignment were worth it.

Angela, Sophia, and Faoril came down last. Sophia unfurled her map before we headed into the darkness. The tunnels were wide and even Thrak could walk straight-back, though his head did come close to brushing the ceiling. The tunnel walls were smooth. I could see none of the tool marks Xera did. I ran my hands along them, admiring the skill it must have took to chisel out this tunnel.

The tunnel slopped down but ran straight for a while. Smaller tunnels branched off of it, but we didn’t take the detours. My legs grew sore and my feet ached. I was used to traveling by horseback. Sophia and Faoril also showed signs of fatigue.

So I pulled out my lyre and sang a song. It was a marching song, designed to lighten steps and reduce the weary rigor of travel. My fingers strummed across the strings as I sang. My music echoed through the tunnels.

“Is that really wise?” Thrak rumbled from the front.

I froze before I finished the first verse. “What?”

“You will attract notice,” the orc rumbled.

“Oh, er, yes,” I flushed. “My apologies. I just wanted to ease our burdens. Some of our party are not used to walking.”

“Sure,” Sophia said flatly. Her arms were folded across her chest.

I gave the lesbian my most winsome smile. It did little to wipe away her hostility. She did not like me. I suspected jealousy. Angela was her lover, but Angela enjoyed cock almost as much as she enjoyed tying Sophia up and playing with her pussy.

“But Thrak, you are most right, I was not thinking.” I sighed as I put my lyre away. My feet really ached.

“We have another hour before nightfall,” Xera called. “Let us keep walking.”

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“I can feel the rhythm of the world even down here.”

I grit my teeth as I took another step. The pain was worth it. I would complete Lady Delilah’s mission, compose an epic song, and have my title of master bard restored to me. I would find a privileged place at court and have an endless parade of highborn ladies to seduce wearing their husband’s faces.

I might even reconnect with my sweet Adelaide. I pictured my princess’s strawberry-blonde hair and piercing-blue eyes. And those lush breasts. So big and round. Like Xera’s. I marched in the darkness, eager for camp and the elf’s body. I could close my eyes and imagined I was with Adelaide for a few moments.

Thrak – The Tunnels, Fallen Kingdom of Modan

The tunnels remained unchanged on our fourth day of travel through them. There were many branches, some as wide as the one we traveled through. We kept having to consult the map Faoril bought in Esh-Esh to navigate and stay on the right path. The tunnel spiraled us us deeper and deeper underground. I could feel the stone lurking above my head, threatening to crush down on us. My shoulders squirmed, but I ignored it. We had a mission to accomplish and my fears would do little to help.

But I missed the openness. I had grown up on the northern tundras, on endless plains of sere grass and rolling hills. I could see vast distances, and not just the dozens of feet Faoril’s balls of light allowed me to see.

As we neared our midday break, Xera strode up to me. “There are noises ahead. Movement. Footsteps, the bang of hammers. It sounds like a village.”

“Smells?”

“I pick up something. Not human or orc. A different smell.”

“Foul? Could it be goblins?”

“I have never smelled goblins before,” she answered. “I do not know what is ahead.”

“Then we should move with caution.”

Xera passed the word. We crept forward. Every time we passed a side-tunnel, I heard the tink of hammers. Sometimes, I would catch a ruddy glow. The tunnels were not empty of life as we expected.

We did not stop for our midday break. Angela agreed to hurry us through in case we were walking through a threat. Everyone moved as quiet as possible. Faoril snuffed out one of her lights and dimmed the other. She kept it in the middle of the group, lighting our steps and little else. Xera took the lead with her keen eyes.

When she froze, I drew my ax.

A harsh voice boomed out of the darkness in a language I had never heard. Booted footsteps approached. Faoril flared her light while I grit my teeth and prepared to face the threat. The steps grew closer, coming from one of the side tunnels.

Figures stepped out. They were dwarves.

Faoril – Shevan, The Fallen Kingdom of Modan

The dwarven kingdom was not as fallen as we had believed. Short, stocky, bearded men wearing plate armor made with such skill it did not rattle as they moved. They held wicked halberds with sharp ax-blades on the end of stone hafts.

Luckily, one of them spoke human with a guttered accent, demanding to know why we had ventured onto their territory. When Angela told them our purpose to retrieve adamantium, the dwarves had grown quite agitated and insisted we go before the Kings of Barzidi.

From what I knew of dwarven custom, Barzidi would be their queen and ruler, though her seven husbands would handle most of the administrative decisions. Seven husbands. I glanced at the dwarves. They were shorter than me, and almost as wide as my Thrak. And though they had those long beards, they had to be powerfully muscled to stomp around in all that armor.

I pictured myself surrounded by seven dwarves with hard cocks aching to fuck me. How wicked would it be to have more than one lover? Dwarven women had the right idea. It was, of course, a natural result of their skewed birthrates. For every seven males born there would be a single female.

When we entered their city, Shevan, there was not a single female dwarf to be seen. Plenty of men wearing leather vests and pants, leaving barrel-chests bare. They were all strong and had the look of laborers. My pussy itched beneath my robes. Even their beards seemed sexy as I gazed at those sculpted pecs and abs, and those thick arms.

How big were their cocks? I wanted to find out.

The dwarves watched us pass through their city in silence. They paused in their labors, whether working at forges that seemed heated by liquid magma itself, or shaping stone with tools, or even tending to strange, cow-like creatures that munched on fields of blue-glowing lichen. Every male dwarf worked. No one was idle. Not even their children. Young male dwarves assisted.

Their city was constructed in a natural cavern, filling up all the space with buildings that reached to the ceiling high over head. Light glowed blue from strange lamps. It wasn’t magic. They had found a natural way to produce phosphorescence. It was clear they needed no help from the surface to survive in the depths.

The soldiers escorted us to a building that appeared a little larger than the rest. It was just as grand and ornate. The dwarves covered their buildings in carved reliefs depicting past triumphs. Everywhere you looked was a new work of art adorning something as mundane as a smithy. The dwarves took pride in everything they did.

We marched up the steps to the new building and through a pair of tale columns shaped like dwarven warriors with hammers raised high to hold the ceiling aloft. Inside the building, the floors were covered in an intricate pattern of colored tiles that led to a throne at the far end.

A woman sat on the throne.

Seven male dwarves, their arms folded across their chest, stood around the base of the throne, screening us from Queen Barzidi. She sat naked save for countless golden necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, and belly chains. Though she had the same stature as the dwarves, she was not stout. She was slim and beautiful, her breasts as large as Angela’s. The mounds rose and fell as she breathed, her necklaces slipping around to reveal a pair of pink nipples. Her hair was fiery-red and adorned with a gold net twinkling with emeralds.

The warriors proclaimed something in dwarven, then they retreated, leaving us before the Queen of the Dwarves. The Queen’s eyes flashed across us. They seemed to linger on Thrak. She straightened in her throne and said something in dwarven.

One of her seven husbands stepped forward. He had a black beard and hair. He kept his arms folded before him. Chainmail armor adorned him, no doubt more comfortable to wear than the full plate of the guards. At his side hung a sharp ax from his belt. All her husbands were similarly armed. Each looked prepared to fight to protect their wife.

“Why have you tread our tunnels?” he asked.