== VORTEX QUEST 3-8 ==
== INTO THE WYRM ==
Passing as slaves meant Xane had to give everybody illusory dicks again to cover the nubs and the signature on their balls.
Naturally, he made himself hung with a thick six inches dangling soft but obvious. The others got a more realistic treatment, but he couldn't help leaving Marcus' tool on the smaller side. Frankly, the tall, long-limbed athlete looked cuter – more fuckable – with a smaller dick. Not that Xane was putting thought into that or anything.
The mage was the only one allowed to wear cloth, turning Marcus' fundoshi into a wrist warp to hide his six butterflies, which he had made as small as possible.
They had to go bald again, including Chay, and even leave the voidblade behind.
The four smooth-headed hunks with free flopping dicks looked slave-like enough, if maybe a bit too supernaturally lean.
Ardor painted black lines around their necks. "I can't put a signature on you, if you were worried," the Nephil said, "since you're already marked by the broken, open link, but in the bazaar, they'll check."
Xane didn't trust their ally, the angel had to be `fallen' for a reason, but Chay's judgement made him swallow his complaints.
Their small vessel arrived at the Long Fair.
From the gently bobbing ocean rose a Whalewyrm's lifeless head. With every high wave, water rushed into the open mouth – a tooth-ringed sphincter 15 feet across – and shot out of several blowholes just past the hollowed out eye sockets.
"How's the freight?" Chay asked.
Xane flexed his ass. The imprisoned phantasm was making the gem shift, even vibrate, but it set tightly in place. "Just peachy. Worst case, I've got an invisible hand to push it further in."
Marcus chuckled. Xane wanted to give him a knuckle sandwich. Actually, he wanted to fuck him into every hole with the power of a 500 pound deadlift, but that was just the horny speaking.
Around the Whalewyrm's mouth was an array of squat, wooden towers for soul-stone barges and docks for ship that had to touch water. Three eidophants were `parked' some distance away with minor activity in the settlements atop their backs.
The demigods were welcomed by a creature with the upper body of a large, muscled human with unnaturally dark gray skin and narrow, pure red eyes, sat on the body of a scorpion the size of a small car. He carried a lance with colorful banners in one hand and a stack of wax tablets in his scorpion-claw.
"Scorpion... centaur," Marcus mumbled under his breath. "Scorpi-taur?"
"Cenpion," Xane said, quickly. "Centaur scorpion."
"Sure, Cenpion," Chay repeated and Xane smiled on the inside. "Don't get stung. Go for the head if there's a fight."
"Scorpitaur," Marcus mumbled, pouting.
Ardor stepped out and greeted the Cenpion guard. "Delivery for Lord Zoffylon's office. It's expected and paid for."
The Cenpion handed over a board from his claw.
"Okay," Chay said, "pretending to be figments, starting now."
"Shouldn't be hard for you, big mute," Marcus said, giving Goro's biceps a slap. He earned a `not funny' glare from everyone and shut up. Xane considered that a victory.
The faux-figments left the ship in a line, Chay at front. They stumbled down the gullet of the undead, hollowed out Whalewyrm, into warm, fleshy dark.
The first obstacle was a much tighter, toothy sphincter, which the four slaves and their Cenpion-guard crossed on a rickety iron ramp. Beyond it began the Long Fair.
The interior was wide as a two-lane tunnel and made from flesh, held in shape by rings of bone or cartilage every few dozen feet. Instead of stalactites, there were ceiling-uvulas aplenty, instead of solid ground there were bone plates laid into meat. Pulsing light came from veins, eerie red suffusing the wyrm as necro-energy was pumped through it to keep it in a state of quiet undeath. A few pipes ran the length of the creature.
The initial chamber was mostly storage, set at a gentle decline since the rest of the Whalewyrm was entirely underwater. A few dozen abyss dwellers were shopping at a handful of stalls set up along one side of the tunnel, crowding the space.
"Zygotes!" shouted an Amphibold surrounded by azure slime-sacks with jiggling content. "Fresh morlock-zygotes, spawned no more than a week ago."
A dozen sea-imps splashed in a silver basin. Some kind of eagle-sized cicada was chirping in a cage. A Troll-owl-chimera with a blood covered chest was butchering a vark head behind his stand, while haggling with foot-high, bipedal frogs over buckets of caviar. Horned eels in fish bowls moved on clockwork spider legs, powered by soul gems.
Xane tried not to stare more than a loopy slave would.
The pantheon crossed another sphincter and the wyrm broadened to the size of a four-lane tunnel. Stalls fit on either side, swarms of shoppers looking at books, scimitars, herbs and more exotic items.
The warm air was light with a dozen smells sucked into clunky ceiling vents.
One stall sold... sand? The Lich behind the desk advertised "Sand, fine and rough, all taste tested". Other Liches were lining up to sample. There seemed to be a carving station where they got their faces... Tattooed? Reconfigured? Engraved?
There was no time to think.
The demigods arrived at an arch of bones and silver, guarded by three more Cenpions and two Scourges – the sharkfaced, wingless demons – in molt-mail chest plates and crotch pieces. There were several hovering Noggins with eyes glowing in different colors and a Daemon-Noggin with broken horns hooked up to a red soulstone with ominously sparking chains. A shimmering blue wyrm with two heads oversaw the operation.
This was security - where the mission could go to shit.
Something seemed to pull at his brain, which he easily `swatted away' with a thought. Mental compulsion? Automatic enthrallment? Ardor hadn't mentioned anything like that.
Their Cenpion guard made them step through the arc one by one, the wired demon-skull's eyes flashing each time.
They had to pretend to get briefly choked by the signature around their neck while not giving away that in reality the open signatures around their crown jewels were getting activated instead.
Xane felt the effect like dropping balls-first from a roof. He certainly didn't have to fake surprise or a stopped breath. The difficult part was pretending that it was over, just when his crotch-fire rose to its full potential. It was the kind of pain that made him want to fuck shit up something fierce.
Goro behind him let out a choked grunt. Even without seeing his buddy's face, Xane knew the terrible actor his friend was only sounded like that when he was in real pain. The last one was Marcus. Xane couldn't help but sneak a glance. The Filipino man's face became a beautiful mess of horror, followed by hilariously forced relaxation and an awkward waddle.
The blue serpent's left head, a snakey hawk, bend down to a Cenpion and whispered. Was their cover blown? Xane was more than ready to start killing with fire burning up his stomach. He sensed wings twitch in his wrist bandage.
No, the Scourges turned their attention to a pair of Goblins carrying a chest through the arc and the wyrm slithered off behind a banner-hung structure.
Their slight descent continued, now in the `expensive' area, where soulstone machines were sold and repaired and several rows of cages were stuffed with enthralled reptiles, abominations and catatonic humans. The clientele contained more Fiends, Drakes and Wraiths here, shopping for their lords.
Being in a fairly tight space, surrounded by demons made Xane nervous. Not just because it would be difficult to fight their way out, but because all those massive red bodies made his horniness rise to dizzying strength, along with a renewed nectar craving.
His hole twitched as the phantasm jiggled.
Another `scanner' arc of floating Noggins with colorful eyes. A deep breath and a ball-crushing that felt like it would have popped his ball sack without his supernatural endurance.
They made it to the Long Fair's widest section, a bridge leading over pools and cages of iron plants bolted into the Whalewyrm flesh. Crocs, Lisks and aquatic creatures with way too many tentacles moved within, sometimes fighting each other.
The blue wyrm with a hawk-head and a rhino-head from the previous guard post slithered up beside them.
"Navuulmena?" the serpent-fanged rhino-face said. "Where are those going?"
The Cenpion said, "Zoffylon's. Not making him wait without somebody's signature. Why?"
"I can't read their memories," the wyrm said. An esper like Oldblue! Uh-oh.
The Cenpion rolled his eyes. "Look Grandbeak, they're slaves. They're not supposed to think. Stop it with the assassination conspiracies."
"I said memories, not thoughts," Grandbeak said. "Shades this hollow should not be able to set a foot before the other."
The bright blue hawk-head bent down to stare at Xane's face while the rhino spoke. The mage wasn't sure how to best react. Would a figment be outwardly scared or not even register that he was in danger? Xane decided to meet the wyrm's eyes with a neutral face.
"Reapers messed up," the Cenpion said. "So what?"
The hawk-head wandered back and forth along the demigods. Something below the bridge splashed water with a roar. Tentacles reached through the planks and caused a minor scuffle among pedestrians who bumped into Grandbeak. Chay's doing?
"If a lord gets killed by a bunch of slaves with a psy-attack power I'm out of a job. Submit them for review, Navuulmena."
"Don't think so."
They continued to bicker. There was some politics going on. Hopefully Chay could make sense of it.
They reached the next ball crushing scanner. How-fucking-many were there?
Ready to tear the whole Whalewyrm apart in a rage, Xane stepped foot into the admin segment. Instead of stalls, there were little apartments stretched along the moist flesh.
Navuulmena told Grandbeak to watch the slaves and went through a Noggin-guarded door, leaving the slaves with the wyrm.
"We're with the revolution," Chay said, in a conversational tone.
Xane whipped around.
"We're delivering a weapon to Zoffylon," Chay continued.
Grandbeak was listening intently, both pairs of eyes narrow beyond their serpentine nature.
"There's some kind of conspiracy," Chay kept going, "against the lord. Navuulmena figures we're here to harm him somehow, but he's too low rank to know the conspiracy's plan. He's aligned against you and the lords here but working for a Long-Fair-internal faction."
"Interesting," Grandbeak eventually said. "And you're... esper-educated?"
"Oldblue in Jheyr'Udd, if you know him. We killed Mightfate."
The serpent let out a series of untranslatable wyrm-curses, both necks twitching nervously. The rhino looked deep in thought, the hawk spoke. "An offer. You kill Navuulmena and tell lord Zoffylon why. I get you out the backdoor after delivery."
"Deal," Chay said.
Xane was quite allergic to not being consulted. Normally he'd see reason, since Chay didn't have the luxury of sitting down for a chat but the aching pull in Xane's groin made him want to bend a few spines into pretzels.
A two-legged frog slipped out of a grate and waved them in. The serpent shoved the slaves along, into a minor demon's throne... pool?
The Whalewyrm's pale red was contrasted by orbs of blue, dangling in nets from ceiling-uvulas. The throne room was flooded with a foot of water. Misters along wall-pipes sprayed a fine haze into the room. Sea shells and skulls equally decorated the place.
Lord Zoffylon lounged in the hollowed out shell of a huge crab. He was a Siren, blue skin with green markings, some eight feet tall and naked save for a leather thong held up by a thick belt. Short horns and webbed fingers lead to gold rings, chains and wristlets.
There were two Siren Fiends in the room, wearing stitched, green togas, currently at a table near the crab throne, eating raw meatballs served by Gnomes, which had no trouble swimming on the water. Three hunky humans in loincloths with open mouths were caring for an octopus-abomination with a mole rat face, feeding it bits of kelp and brushing its tentacles.
The newcomers waded into the room-pool. Moisture ran off them constantly.
Zoffylon rose, flanked by two Cenpions in addition to the smug looking Navuulmena.
"What's the holdup?" the Siren asked, his deep, demonic voice giving Xane shivers with unwelcome strength. "Something to worry about, high guardian?"
Grandbeak stopped the demigods from advancing and approached the throne. "These are the slaves you requested... from your friends. No issues there. Including, apparently, a little gift."
Xane telekinetically pulled the gem from his ass, trying not to flinch, moan or let his eyes roll back into his head. Wow, his hole had turned into a needy as fuck sex organ.
He pulled forth the large marble as if he had held it behind his back the whole time. A Cenpion snatched it from him upon command and brought it to the satisfied lord.
"Excellent," Zoffylon said and tucked the phantasm away in his belt. "Was there anything else?"
"Yes, my lord," Grandbeak said. "A traitor in our midst. If you'll allow..."
"Marcus! Now!" Chay shouted.
A ring zoomed forward and grew plate-sized. The chakram sliced Navuulmena's neck all around, making black blood shoot from both sides.
While Zoffylon's guards pushed the demon to safety, the dying Cenpion rushed forward at the demigods. The chakram came back and razor-zoomed across his neck again. His head was only connected by the neck bones, black blood bubbling down his body.
"Independent lower body," Chay shouted. "Stinger!"
Xane tore off his wrist wrap and sent a mote at the scorpion tail. It detonated into a splatter of toxic green sludge and black shards. A slave by the octopus chimera was hit, screamed and faded. His soul drifted into a machine, upping its misting to a spray as the pipes rattled.
The other slaves ran around like headless chickens, while the fanged mole octopus – grazed by chitin shards – made groaning roars neither of its constituent creatures should have been able to make.
Goro was on the attacker with one leap. The human part of Navuulmena was fully dead but the blind lower half fought on. Goro hammer-fisted the claws apart while Xane prepared a bolt of lightn- Wait, they were standing in water. He switched to a bolt of frost and shot it at the blown apart tail to freeze the nervous system.
Navuulmena dropped, twitching.
Gnomes drifted in with sponges to keep the thick blood from diffusing in the pool.
Chay had used the mist to thread his fog into the area and made his way invisibly over to the throne. His hand was on the attentive Siren's shoulder.
"Him!" Chay shouted, pointing at a Siren Fiend with curly horns and wrist braces. "He's a conspirator. He was hoping you'd die."
The accused shot up and punched the other Fiend at the table to the ground, lifted the table as Gnomes rushed away in splashes and slammed the iron furniture onto the fallen demonling.
Zoffylon said a magic code word and a kelp curtain parted, a grate behind it opening. A Croc rushed in, eyes pitch black.
"Kill Fnepniyaw!" the Siren shouted.
The Croc headed for the Fiend on all fours at top speed, water splashing into the misty air, but Fnepniyaw spoke a code word of his own.
"Counter-enthrallment," Chay said and pushed himself off the throne as the Croc turned and headed for the lord. The animal collided with the Siren as Goro followed with a leap.
Xane sent a mote at the Fiend who was casting something else already. Chaos and annihilation consumed the upper part of Fnepniyaw, who staggered as parts of him faded from existence. His magic worked to repair him right away aided by some glowing amulet on his wrist.
The demonling's half-deleted toga fell down, revealing a highly fuckable- uh, enviable physique and muscle dick with vein-like riffling.
Before Fnepniyaw's brain could fully reestablish itself, Xane shot an expanding bolt of ice into his phased skull, turning the head into an ice-crown. The Fiend dropped head first into the pool.
Xane levitated to the hopefully dead enemy and shot a smoldering bolt into his torso every other second to make sure he wouldn't get up again. Why weren't his friends helping? Or the Cenpion guards?
He looked back, over the Croc's ripped apart corpse. Before dying, the Fiend had activated an enthrallment on the mole rat octopus. It just finished strangling the last slave, his limp body fading away. Both Cenpion spears were sticking from a tentacle that swiped at the guards which now hacked with scimitars.
Marcus was making progress on cutting the creature's tiny eyes out but it kept growing more as if eye balls were just waiting under the skin to get their turn. Gross.
Goro was fully ensnared by two tentacles but in no apparent danger, his supernaturally shredded muscles pulsing with rage as he bit his way to freedom. The octopus pushed him underwater.
"From underneath," Chay said, suddenly beside the mage. "Hit it with whatever, dead center underneath."
Xane gave a curt nod and sent a golden butterfly with ink-black edges into the pool, setting a trajectory for what he figured was the octopus' asshole.
The chimera rose as his mote detonated with piercing radiance, lighting up the water and diffuse mist all around.
A dead thrall-beast dropped on a cloud of smoke, bubbling from the pool and Goro resurfaced with a roar, instantly pummeling the dead creature like cannon blasts. His hair was fully regrown, hanging over his face as a heavy curtain.
"Lord Zoffylon," the rhino-head of the serpent said. "Security will surely be alerted by now."
The aquatic demon emerged from behind his overturned crab-throne. "Hold them off if you can."
"I promised the divine slaves to let them out the sluice. Can you see to it?"
"Yeah yeah, just deal with the guards."
The esper-snake slithered away and the Siren turned to the pantheon, his phantasm gem raised. "Any more surprises?"
Chay shrugged. "We delivered the goods. You're ready to join the revolution now?"
Zoffylon made a heavy nod. "By King Vaagh'tang. The Downward-Yellgvan Siren Council will not be pleased but they'll come around if the cycle does speed up."
"Nectar?" Marcus asked, eyes glued to the lord's crotch. "We saved your life."
Zoffylon huffed. "Fine. It'll take a while to replace those slaves, so plunder my storage. This way. But make it quick."
The demigods waded to a closet full of jugs, brimming with demonic ejaculations. The men greedily chugged away.
Xane had gotten used to savoring every drop since there was never as much as he'd have liked. Getting to drink as much as he could under time pressure was a different matter. The sexual cravings and the relief paired with it practically assaulted him. The visions came so hard and fast his lips kept slipping off the jug's edge as he sensed a demon dick ramming into him when it as really just a trick of the nervous system.
A Siren gently tore him away from the cabinet. It was the other Fiend, the one who had been knocked out. His head was still shifted weirdly as his broken skull hadn't fully healed itself.
"Time to go, little slaves."
In a sex-stupor, the demigods waddled after the blue demonling to a room where frog people operated a metal hatch into a three foot-wide sphincter tunnel.
Xane shivered and crawled in after Chay. He got a slap on the ass from the overly cheery Marcus. They were all a bit loopy from the nectar rush, slipping on the floor of the sluice like newborn deer.
"Can you make it to the surface?" the Fiend asked.
"Shouldn't be tricky," Chay said. "Any hazards to watch out for?"
"Unless you get tangled up in kelp easily, no. Just stay away from the docks and no one's going to know."
Goro pushed his hair out of his face. "Let's fucking bail." He turned to the pulsing meat-door, the mark of madness on his left ass cheek.
The inner hatch closed and darkness consumed them.
Xane dismissed their illusory dicks and four holy lights briefly blinded the men.
The sphincter opened. Foam rushed in. Xane created his trusty air bubble while he heard Marcus take a mildly deep breath. He poked the swim team captain in the flank with a grin. Marcus swatted him away. Xane poked out his tongue, getting a middle finger in return.
The hatch fully flooded and the pantheon swam out, through a nebulous kelp forest, mighty strokes bringing them to the surface where Ardor would be circling.