Elf Maidens of Thurn
Copyright© 2023 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 54: Chartering a Ship
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 54: Chartering a Ship - For fifty years since the capture and transportation of their forebears to Thurn, the women of a race the Thurnians call Elves have been at the mercy of the citizens of Thurn. Although talented in metal and leather work, it is the Elves beauty and sexual allure to Thurnian men which is in most demand. Wealthy men are now creating private harems of Elf Maidens while government officials wrestle with the problem of the ever-increasing population of Elves in Thurn.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale Post Apocalypse Sharing Light Bond Group Sex Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Lactation Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Squirting
After completing his official inspection of Matiu’s boat, and haggling over berthing fees, the harbour-master directs us to an inn that can provide us with overnight accommodation. He also proves helpful when I inquire about chartering a ship.
“Don’t forget that you must be sure of the location of the Aegle Potiora before you commit to any further travel,” says TM, reminding me of one of the several conditions I must satisfy before he will release the money I’ve been promised for this venture.
After the four of us share an evening meal at the inn, I retire to bed. Arona and the two men also come upstairs, but sleep is far from their minds. Matiu will be leaving us after breakfast and he’s eager to make the most of Arona’s fecundity. Of course, TM has no intention of being left out. While I’m tempted to join them, I’m only too well aware that the next day or so will be crucial to my research project. I need to find the location of the Aegle Potiora; find a suitable ship; and find a willing crew. None of those tasks will be easy, which is why I feel the need for a good night’s sleep.
The next morning I’m belatedly joined at breakfast by my three bleary-eyed companions. In other circumstances I would feel a twinge of jealousy given the cause of their lack of sleep. However, the pressure of achieving a seemingly impossible set of tasks within the time available helps to keep me focused. Matiu offers one last piece of assistance to our expedition before we part company. He recommends a chandler’s shop that stocks an extensive range of sea charts. While it is unlikely anybody has recorded the location of the Aegle Potiora on a map, the chandler may know of the tower’s location and be able to sell us a suitable chart that a ship’s navigator can follow.
Matiu sets sail shortly after breakfast, having secured some cargo to transport back to Kokoru. The cargo will at least make his trip profitable on top of whatever financial arrangement TM agreed with Matiu to bring us here. I doubt Arona’s offer of sex was the sole means of acquiring Matiu’s assistance. Whatever was agreed between them seems to have been satisfactory to Matiu. Now the onus is on me to complete the tasks necessary for the expedition to continue onwards.
The chandler’s shop is able to provide a wide range of sea charts, but the proprietor doesn’t know the location of the Aegle Potiora. He’s heard of the legends and tales about the homeland of Elf Maidens, but, like most people, he regards them as fanciful myths. He suggests that I inquire with the captains and navigators of the ocean going ships currently in port. If anyone knows of the whereabouts of the Aegle Potiora, then they are the most likely to know. Failing that, he suggests contacting the small community of elves who live in Tewhanga.
I enlist the help of the harbour-master to both introduce me to the ships’ captains and to act as an interpreter. Neither of the ships in port are Mariner ships, and the crews speak languages I’ve never heard before. Fortunately, the harbour-master speaks numerous languages sufficiently well to carry out his work. Unfortunately, despite having travelled extensively, none of the seamen know of the Potiora’s location. I leave the last ship feeling deflated.
“Try asking one of the retired seamen who frequent the Rusty Anchor Inn,” suggests the harbour-master as we part company.
While relatively few people regard Tewhanga as their home, it nevertheless contains an interesting mix of transient and semi-permanent residents. Tewhanga provides the only harbour deep enough to service Thurn’s ocean going trade. The Mariners who own it are descended from the original human races who were left to fend for themselves when the ancients’ civilisation collapsed. Despite their initial distrust of those of us who emerged from hibernation, there are no racial restrictions affecting those who visit or live here. A case in point is the small community of elves who live and work in the town. Most of the elves are female adolescents who have chosen to move to Tewhanga rather than work in Thurn’s factories, mines and farms. Unfortunately none of the young elves know the location of the Aegle Potiora, but several show an interest in my mission.
Unlike those of us whose ancestors emerged from hibernation chambers, the Mariners’ forebears weren’t genetically modified to restrict the duration of lives to around forty years. Consequently some Mariners can live well into their seventies and eighties. Those who are no longer able to continue with the active life of a seaman are assigned to less vigorous work on shore. A small community of older seaman has formed in Tewhanga, and the Rusty Anchor Inn is their preferred place to socialise with each other.
I meet with Arona and TM just before lunch. I’m not sure what TM has been doing, but Arona has spent the morning in the Mariner library to see if any records exist that mention the Aegle Potiora. Unfortunately she found nothing of interest, so we are now running out of options. I put on a brave face as we go to the Rusty Anchor Inn for lunch.
The innkeeper introduces us to three Mariners sat around a large table. They’re far older than anybody I’ve previously seen. At first they are reluctant to talk with us, but their tongues loosen as soon as TM buys them a round of ale.
“A tall metal tower, y’say?” ponders a man called Gaelan. “Somewhere far to the south? Not sure I’ve ever heard of anything called Aegle or Potiora in them parts. Ain’t Potiora something to do with the Hibers?”
‘Hibers’ is a slang term commonly used by the Mariners and others when referring to people whose ancestors emerged from hibernation chambers hundreds of years ago. It’s sometimes used as an insult, but I suspect that isn’t how Gaelan means it now.
“She could mean the Aegis,” interrupts a woman called Valeria. “I’ve heard stories about a tower the locals call Aegis. Big huge cylindrical thing located on an island in the Ribbean Sea.”
“Yeah, I recall seeing something like that in my early seafaring days,” muses Nuncio. “Set back from the shore and surrounded by jungle. I remember thinking that it was an odd place to build a such a tall tower.”
My spirits lift at what these Mariners are saying. I’ve never heard of the Ribbean Sea, but surely Valeria would only mention the tower if it was somewhere that fitted my description. However, I’m not sure this will be enough to satisfy TM’s conditions for release of the money.
“Could you point out this island on a chart?” I ask Nuncio.
“Don’t insult me,” snorts Nuncio. “I’ve been a navigator for over forty years. Half the charts sold in Tewhanga are originals or copies of my work. What’s your interest in this Aegis tower?”
“I believe it may be the missing seventh Potiora,” I say. “I’ve been offered a research grant to locate the tower and hopefully prove that it’s a Potiora.”
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