The cavern’s mouth loomed before us. Dark, ominous, there was absolutely nothing good down there but it was where we were headed regardless.

“Before we do this, I want to make one thing clear. If you think goblins are nothing but tiny, dim witted brutes, think again. Yes, they don’t read or write, and you damned sure won’t see one compose a symphony, but that just makes them uncultured, uncivilized. Savage, yes, but not stupid. Never stupid.”

“Truth is, the tricky little bastards are clever like you wouldn’t believe. We step into the dark, it means we’re in their world, not ours. Just because we’re sneaking in the back doesn’t mean the place won’t be full of tricks and traps. So if you don’t pay attention to even a single other word I say, heed this: Be Careful.”

“Yeah. Careful, got it.” Eilefindel said, absently tugging her slender, pointed ears as she failed to hide her nervousness. She frowned, eyeing the dark, gaping maw ahead.

There were five of us that had dared to make the journey. Eilefindel was a priestess of the light. Young in elven terms, though for all I knew she could easily be twice my age. Barely out of her novitiate, but one day her power would be the stuff of legends. Self confidence was all she lacked, and taking down the Goblin King would go a long way towards fixing that. Already powerful, another hundred years of experience would make her a force to be reckoned with.

Normally, the dark was as far from her element as you could imagine, but given the right tools, that just made her all the more deadly to the goblins. She was the reason this whole crazy thing was actually going to work, the rest of us just had to get her there safely.

“Someone needs to end them,” Sable said as she absently spun a blade between her fingertips. “They’re growing bolder every year. It’s not just isolated farms and villages. Davenport was the first. It’s not going to be the last.”

Choking out the last of the words, she slammed the dagger back into its sheathe.

I could still picture the burnt out shells of the houses they’d lit to distract the watch. The shattered faces of the survivors who’d believed themselves safe behind their walls. Wondering if they’d ever see the missing girls again. They wouldn’t. Never again. Not unless they were taken too. We’d tried to save them, tried to end it. We’d failed.

Not this time. Not here, not now. Where force had failed, stealth would prevail.

It had to.

Sable had been one of the survivors, and one of the few to confront the menace instead of hiding. Quick on her feet even then (quick enough to avoid being taken, though she was exactly the sort of beautiful young woman that slavers most favored), time and experience had honed her talents into a fine art. Single handedly destroying no less than half a dozen raiding parties and driving off countless others, she had by far the most experience hunting goblins. I knew I’d have to have her on my team. It hadn’t been easy. The dusky rogue had been skittish from the first about actually venturing underground.

For a moment, no one spoke. Not until our second elf chose to break the silence.

“Mmmm, I love it when you get all ... fierce like that,” said Katile as she stood off to the side. The corner of her mouth raised as she stared down at Sable’s toned rear.

Sable spun, catching the elf’s all too open stare. Snarling softly, one hand dropping to her daggers even as the other tugged at her clothing, trying to hide the pert behind that had caught Katile’s attention. A futile effort. However modest and practical her clothing might be, it could do little to hide her obvious charms. Years of free living and struggle had left her lean and slender. Long limbs and taut muscles accentuating curves that could easily have belonged to a soft, lovely courtesan in a different, happier life.

Though it would be a shame to see that lovely behind covered by the long, top-accentuating gowns so popular in softer circles.

“Say that again, trollop,” she snarled. “Go on, I dare you. Give me a reason to show you just what fierce means!”

Katile smiled, so supremely confidence in herself, sure that she could handle anything that Sable -or the world, for that matter- could throw at her. She opened her mouth again.

Damn it all, we needed them both!

“Girls,” I barked sharply. Commanding as only a knight commander could be, “Enough. You know who we’re supposed to be fighting here. We will Not do their work for them.”

Katile smiled again, but nodded softly and stepped back. It was easy to see why the two never got along. Where Sable was hard and wild, Katile was nothing but soft, luscious curves. A far cry from Sable’s woodwise, practical clothing, Katile all but spilled out of her tight gown. Ornate, bordering on absurdly so, it was the sort of dress that just shouldn’t work. Tight, strapless, it barely managed to cover her all too generous chest. The high slitted skirts should have been all but impossible to move in, yet somehow she made it work. Traveling, even fighting in garments that should have fallen off at the first sudden movement. Yet all the while, it managed to stay more perfect, more immaculate than Sable’s simpler gear.

Magic, obviously. A subtle display of power. One that spoke of her skill, if you paid attention.

Perhaps, too, Sable saw in Katile everything she had lost. Urbane, civilized, and utterly unlike the light elves, her people oh so innately tied to the hustle and bustle of the crowds. Urban beings in a way that Sable had once been and would likely never be again, a crimson elf like Katile must been a particularly painful reminder of the past.

A stark contrast to the pale and fire haired Eilefindel, Katile’s skin was a flat shade of red that contrasted sharply with the elf’s midnight blue hair. Like so many of her people, Katile’s magic was fueled by emotion. Passion and desire, in her case, a fact plainly advertised by her every appearance. Favoring the crowds that only a human city could provide, they had long earned their reputation. Both the good and the bad.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “But you are right. Let us focus on our true goal. That big old goblin treasure horde.”

“Is it not enough that we right a terrible injustice?” Asked the final member of our group.

Tall, loud, and often boisterous, Jaie was a warrior out of legend. Survivor of a thousand battles, mistress of a hundred weapons. Just name a land, and it was likely she had fought there.

Though clearly human, no one knew how old Jaie truly was. Centuries at least, if the legends spoke true. Some said that she had fought Death himself, wresting her soul free from his icy grasp. Others that she had conquered a pantheon of gods and wrested their immortality from them, or had she instead saved them and been granted a boon. None knew.

“I’m sure that a big, strong warrior like you can take care of all that and still have time to take a little ... something extra,” she slid against Jaie, long fingernails lightly scratching the warriors arm as she ran her fingers along the layers of taut muscle. For a brief instant, Jaie’s eyes glazed over, but only for a moment. Shrugging her arm out of the elf’s grip, she shot the woman a dark scowl.

The tallest of us, and the strongest, Jaie managed to make raw power and athleticism look good in a way I could only envy. Arms and legs stacked with powerful muscles, her bare midriff showing a stomach that was nothing short of chiseled perfection yet still managed to flow perfectly into a flawless picture of femininity meshing well with her wide hips and perky breasts.

The warrior wore little, claiming that discipline and skill were of greater virtue than any armor could be. Clad only in a tight chest wrap and sparse loincloth that dangled almost to her knees, there was nonetheless a solid self-possession to it. Though her outfit showed more skin than Katile’s, it was clear that the elf’s clothing existed to display her body. Katile’s simply was.

Personally, I’d leave the whole “no armor” thing to Jaie. I missed my elf-forged plate. So wonderful in battle, but just as impractical for stealth. Instead I was dressed simply. Like Sable, though mine in padded cloth rather than tight leather.

“Enough,” Jaie said, her fingers barely brushing the handle of the long sword hanging from her hip. “So long as you have the map to the beast’s lair, we shall have no problems.”

“I have it,” I said, “just remember our deal. We take the king alive, to face justice before all the world.”

For the hundredth time, I felt for the bindings at my waist, just opposite my own sword. Sorcerer or not, the penitent’s collar would hold him well after we had captured our prisoner. All the way home for the public trial he so deserved. Far too many of my sword sisters had been lost gaining the knowledge we would need to defeat the Goblin King. I just hoped it would be worth it.

We had underestimated them the first time. With our “perfect” blend of battle magic and brawn, we imagined the goblin menace could offer no challenge. A belief only strengthened when their pitiful armies melted away before us. Attacking in force, our knights had charged forth against the goblin horde only to see them flee screaming into their caves. Charging blindly, we had never imagined what awaited underground.

Now, we were all but gone. When the survivors retreated to lick our wounds and rebuild, it was I, the last Knight Commander of the Golden Valkyries, who had remained. After watching helplessly as our great army returned to camp a trickle of broken survivors, I had sworn to remain and seek justice.

It was too late for them, my poor sisters who had been chained, broken, and sold like some common rabble, but justice would never rest. Our terrible defeat had at least gained us this: we had penetrated deeply enough before the fall that we alone held a map of their foul dimense. And we had discovered a back entrance.

For my penance, I remained while the others left to rebuild. Remained to plan, to recruit those strong enough to stand against them, stealthy enough to sneak in, crafty enough to steal the Goblin King from the center of the wretched hole he called a home and end his depredations once and for all.

We descended down into the twisting tunnels, the few scraps of power our priestess could grasp used to grant us vision in the inky depths. The place was a nightmare of twisting, branching passageways. I could see why our knights had found it so easy to get ambushed. Without the hard won map, it would have been all too easy to become hopelessly lost.

Five times, Katile sensed goblin ahead, but each time care and magic were sufficient to mask our presence.

Several hours took us almost through the caves. Just a little longer, and we would be into the realm of the goblins itself.

“Just, let me rest for one moment,” gasped Eilefindel. Powerful, but apparently not used to the rigors of battle. “I just need to sit down a moment before we continue, then I’ll be good.”

“Fine,” Sable said crossly, “but be careful, there’s all sorts of tra-”

Even as she spoke, Eilefindel brushed up against an a hidden tripwire. In a flash, half a dozen ropes sprung to life, whipping out at our group. Eilefindel was taken instantly, tied and bound before she had time to cry out or call her magic. One came for me, but the barest expression of power was enough to send it limp to the ground. Katile did likewise, and I looked up just in time to see Sable duck and roll her way out of the twisting ropes, watching them knot up as they tried in vain to follow her movements. Jaie, on the other hand, fared about as well as the priestess.

“You take the warrior,” Katile said with a smirk “I want to play with little sunny for a bit.”

I grumbled at her to stop playing around, but was more concerned with getting our group moving again. The ropes had driven Jaei to her knees, twisting and pulling until even her battle honed strength could no longer fight. Arms behind her back, so low they were almost touching the floor. Legs heavily wrapped, pulling back on her haunches and arching her back to lewdly display her breasts. Speaking of which, the ropes had coiled around those as well, wrapping tight both under and over, plastering her clothes to them in a way that was positively indecent. A long cord trailed from the span wrapping her neck. Had she been discovered alone, it would have served as a fine leash.

She squirmed, fighting the bonds, letting out little gasping mewls with every movement. Funny, it didn’t sound like pain.

Then I noticed the rope coiled between her legs. Knotted, it had settled right up against the button of her slit, grinding tight against it with every motion. Yet still she fought, gasping with unwelcome pleasure all the while.

“If you say even one word,” she threatened.

“Relax,” I said, “or I’ll leave you for her redness over there.”

“I- No, thank you. Please, release me.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said as I ran my fingers along the knots. Already, they were starting to come undone. Her strength was amazing, to be able to fight these bonds. Most of us would be held fast, but given time she would escape on her own. Of course, magic was so much faster. A little bit of power, and they fell away.

Though powerful enough to remove them with a touch, Katile was still working when I finished. Her motions were ... rather more intimate than mine, though the ropes fell away all the same. The priestess rose, giving Katile a very funny look as she adjusted her robe.

“I don’t want to spoil the party,” Sable said, “but that was all sorts of loud, we need to get moving.”

“What’s the matter, hot stuff,” Katile said. “Weren’t enjoying the show? A shame you were so nimble, you would have looked so good in-”

“Elf,” Jaie said firmly, “Enough.”

Katile bowed slightly, though her mocking smile never left. Sable was right, though. Attracting attention was the absolute last thing we wanted. Stuffing the disenchanted rope into my bag, I hurried after her.

The next hour was painstaking work, checking for traps every couple feet as we inched closer to our goal. It was exhausting, but no one wanted to trigger another trap. Who knew whether we’d be so lucky next time, better safe than sorry.

I knew we had reached our goal when Sable returned from a scouting trip ash faced and shaking.

“There’s some sort of ... thing up there,” she shuddered, “I could see it. Moving, writing. So many arms...”

“The beast pens,” I said confidently. “Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of that.”

Reaching into my pack, I pulled out a jar of salve and passed it to Katile. She opened it, brushing her finger across the surface and taking a whiff.

“Mmmm ... I recognize this. Slimy horror? My, but the goblins have such interesting pets. You volunteering to go first, knightie?”

“If I have to,” I said.

“So what, we rub some of this on ourselves and it lets us go?” asked Sable.

“Something like that,” Katile said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as I pulled off my shirt.

Unlike the more compact, athletic Jaie, my breasts were full enough to require heavy binding lest they get in the way during battle. Katile watched with great interest as I slowly unwound the fabric.

“Mmm ... very nice,” Katile said, “you’ve been holding out on us, knightie.”

“What the hell is this?” Sable demanded.

“I told you, sweetie,” Katile said as her salve covered hands began exploring my body. “You have to rub this over yourself. ALL over yourself. I like the way you think, knightie.”

Her fingers touched and squeezed, spending altogether more time than was necessary caressing my naked chest. I bit my lip, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response, but wow, her touch was something else.

Then it was my turn. Infusing my power into the salve, I began applying it to her just as she had for me. Well, maybe not exactly how she’d done it. I wasn’t nearly as ... enthusiastic. Much to her chagrin.

“Come on, baby,” she said as I reached around areas that were far too intimate, “work it in there nice and good. Yeah, that’s the spot.”

Her hands slipped over mine, pushing it towards her most private of regions. Growling in disgust, Sable looked away from the spectacle.

As before, we split the rest of the work. Katile covering Eilefindel while I took Jaie. Taking a handful of the goop, I began rubbing it all over Jaie’s soft skin. As I touched her, I marveled at the contrast between her oh so womanly curves and the tight, solid muscles that covered them. Her breasts were small, but round and high. The hard muscles of her chest lifting them up and granting a prominence they might not have enjoyed on a physique less imposing. As I slathered the salve over her body, I could only imagine what sorts of things Katile was getting up to.

“Is that necessary,” Jaie snapped at me. I came back to my senses just to realize that my fingers had been rubbing the warrior’s pussy for almost the last ten seconds. My hand shot away from it, swift as an asp. What in the world had gotten into me?

“I ... I feel funny,” Eilfindel said as I looked over. Like the rest of us, she was completely nude save for the oily sheen of the salve. Taller than any except Jaie, she was still the lightest of our group by a fair margin. Slender and delicate looking, bereft of her priestly robes, she looked far too fragile for the battle ahead. If I didn’t know what sort of inner power she could wield, I would question the folly of bringing someone like her into this.

She stared back with a slightly dazed expression, the tiny nipples of her small breasts standing at arrowhead precision. Her fair skin was flushed, her breath coming out in short pants, while her hands fidgeted constantly towards her parted thighs.

“That?” Katile said, “that’s just a lovely little side effect of the elixir. Mmmmm ... but it feels good, doesn’t it.”

She was right. I could feel something. Not enough to make me react as the priestess had, but I was definitely on edge. Unexpected, except maybe to Katile. Let’s just hope it worked on the monster.

“So,” Katile said with a languid smile as she turned towards Sable. “are you ready for your turn, lovely? I’d be happy to do the honors.”

“To hell with that,” Sable slapped Katile’s hands away, “I’m done playing your sick little games. Maybe you slowpokes need your sapphic little oils, but count me out. I don’t need it, and I don’t need you. Just watch me.”

Before we could stop her, she was off, prancing across the room up ahead. The thing woke before she was even halfway across. There was a low rumble, a deep sigh as the beast drew in its breath, and then it was on her.

Long, whiplike arms slapped back and forth, snapping towards the woman as she made for the exit. It was incredible, never in my life had I seen anyone move like that. I hadn’t imagined that anyone could. Though the arms came too fast to follow, Sable danced between them like it was her partner a yule fete. Moving almost perfectly in sync as the dashing limbs missed again and again. Although every warning claimed the beast was beyond anything a mortal could match, it looked like she was actually going to do it.

Right up until the moment she failed.

Just a quick mistake, the slip of her wrist as she spun out of one long tendril’s way. As it brushed against the tentacle, it reflexively closed around her limb, wrapping it too fast for the eye to see.

Sable reacted immediately, slashing with a dagger that forced the tentacle to give way. It recoiled, freeing her arm, but even that brief pause was too long. In the short span she was stopped, another caught her ankle, then one on the wrist holding her knife. There was a brief cry as another found the arm that had just been freed, and then she was lifted into the air.