by ilo man
“Too big to fit in,” Tallahassee replied.
“Shouldn’t we have stayed and fought?”
Tallahassee scoffed. “You ever fought a Witherer?”
Borbon started chuckling.
“Has he ever fought a Witherer?” Gorbon’s voice boomed around. “Fought one single-handed and killed it.”
“Fuck off,” Tallahassee spat.
“Did so,” Atrixa chimed in. “Saw it with my own eyes.”
“Sorrell?” Vinnie asked. “Shouldn’t we go help Sorrell?”
“Na, he’ll be fine. The Witherer’s sniffing the air for you, he won’t bother with Sorrell—just a half-giant cooking up his broth outside his cave. Nothing to see here.” Tallahassee grunted. “It’s you we’ve got to sort.”
Vinnie sat back, his legs dangling over the ledge. He couldn’t take his ring off, and he certainly wasn’t about to cut his pride and joy off, not with nearly forty virility points. A soft sound suddenly filled his ears, like singing crossed with poetry, a strange lullaby. His eyes grew heavy; his neck became tired.
They waited for Sorrell to shout them the all clear.
His eyelids closed.
He saw her.
She was dancing.
Her lithe green body and her purple hair swished from side to side as she jerked her head in time with her soft song. She was to die for, clothed only in a brown bra and a skimpy thong, bracers on her forearms, two armbands farther up. Her lips hummed away, ruby-red lips, inviting lips. She looked up, looked into his mind, breaking from her song, and studying him.
She bent forward, her arms pushing her cleavage together, her head tilted up, facing him. She puckered her glossed lips and blew him a kiss, sending it on its way with a wave of her palm.
“Goblin, goblin,” she whispered, the two words curling into his mind, completing her kiss.
He felt someone poking him. “Is that all you think about?” Atrixa asked.
“What?”
“Sex.”
Vinnie shrugged, not wanting to share his dream. “Yeah.”
“Sorrell’s given the all clear. We can scoot now.”
He nodded, pushed himself up, wondering who the goblin was. Then it came to him. It was so obvious. How could he be so stupid? The goblin was Sivatious’s core. He felt sick and giddy at the thought.
“Goblin, goblin.”
No, it couldn’t be. No way!
He squeezed back through the fissure, back into the cave, planting his staff and letting its glow light the place.
“Show me your cock,” Tallahassee ordered.
“What?” said Vinnie, still with a semi, thoughts of the goblin’s lips encouraging his pumping heart.
“Show-me-your-cock.” She spelled it out for him.
“Why?” Vinnie tried the same but failed dismally.
“I’ve got an idea.”
“Just show her your dick, Vin,” said Atrixa. “God knows we’ve all seen it.”
“True that,” said Angel, nodding.
“I’ll second the motion,” said Borbon. “All those who’ve seen Vinnie’s cock say ‘Aye’.”
“Aye,” Gorbon grunted.
“Me too,” Sorrell’s shouted from outside. “Hurry up out. The broth’s nearly ready.
“Aye,” said Little Red.
Vinnie looked at Tallahassee, the mouse, no, more a squirrel, he decided and pulled his pants down. Tallahassee gasped, Vinnie’s dick looking good in the dwarven light’s soft illumination. It lay in his hand, pulsing a little, the gold band’s subtle luster making his length glow, illuminating its tip like a beacon. “So, what are you thinking?”
Tallahassee leaned in, brushing his hand away, taking its weight, holding it on the flat of her palm. He grew, hardened, and she smiled. “Now that’s some weapon. I’d specialize in that one, any day.” Winking, she dropped his dick, but it stayed exactly where it was. “We need a bag of holding,” she said. “Don’t suppose anyone’s got a spare?”
Gorbon looked at Borbon, and he shrugged, rugged palms upward. “Not me. You, Atrixa?”
Atrixa shrugged too and said “Nope,” and looked at Angel who merely shook her head.
“You have,” said Little Red.
Vinnie raised his eyebrows, “So I have. I’ve got one,” and he brought out his Grand Sack of Holding, opening its throat and asking for his backup sack. He looked at his items inventory and saw it only held a few bits and bobs, some coins, early stuff. He transferred it all out and passed it to Tallahassee.
“Needle and thread?”
“Me!” Sorrell barked from outside. Borbon went and fetched it.
Tallahassee knelt before him.
Shee had a knife in one hand and his backup sack in the other. She eyed his dick, slicing down the sack’s side making a pouch the size of a large envelope. “If my memory’s right,” she said, offering it up, “by stitching it up we’ll create a smaller inter-spatial sack. Then we slip your dick in, right up to the ring, tie it up, and your cock’s no longer in this dimension.”
“So Sivatious can’t sense it,” Vinnie said, finally understanding.
She slipped his dick between its folds, the needle and thread between her teeth, pinching the cloth down, gauging his girth. “Got it,” she said, pulling the sleeve away. Vinnie gasped at the hessian sensation, reminders of sock-days long gone.
Tallahassee set to work with the needle and thread.
Atrixa fiddled with her arm bands, shuffling her health beads from one to the other. “There,” she said and gave Tallahassee an emerald green ribbon. “If you pierce all around the top we can use this to cinch the sack above the ring.”
Tallahassee looked up, nodding.
Angel pulled at her pants, bringing out a long, leather lace. “We can use this as a belt. Loop it through Atrixa’s ribbon and then up and around his butt. Double security.”
“What if I wanna piss?”
Tallahassee scoffed. “It’s an interspatial bag, just piss away, you won’t fill the universe up.
Handy, Vinnie thought.
“Right,” Tallahassee said, finishing up and holding the rather impressive sack up. “Let’s get it on.”
The girls all gathered around Tallahassee, Atrixa on one side and Angel on the other. Vinnie stared out at the rocky cave walls while they fiddled, prodded, poked and pulled, eventually securing the sack in place.
“All done,” said Tallahassee, and she gave his cock a quick peck on its hessian end. “Anything?” she asked.
“Nope,” said Vinnie.
She tugged at the sack. “Now?”
“Nope,” he said.
“Well, girls, I think we’re set. Now we can go to Sivatious’s lair without fear of him sensing us coming.” Tallahassee sprang up, pulling Vinnie’s ear close. “One day, you’re going to bang me bad with that muscle.” She skipped out of the cave.
Angel’s fingertips brushed his chest, her nails racking tiny welts. “I’d better be the first to undo that baby.”
Atrixa patted his ass. “Been there, done that. We could still have some fun with or without your cock.” She said cock the best out of all of them, the word popping in the cave’s echo. Vinnie followed Gorbon and Borbon out into the twilight. He finally touched the sack, then grabbed at it in panic. His dick had vanished.
“It’s gone,” he said, aghast.
“It’s not, it just exists on a different plain.”
Vinnie sat by the fire and imagined his cock floating around in space, exploring strange new worlds, seeking out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where no cock had gone before.
Sorrell ripped him from his muse.
“Why don’t we just cut the ring off, find a volcano and destroy it,” the half-giant said.
“Because it’s The One Ring, you idiot. It’s ultimate power, insta-orgasm, you don’t go destroying shit like that,” Vinnie protested. “It’s power, you use and abuse it and if it corrupts you, so be it.”
“Well said,” Little Red chimed in.
“So, have we got a plan?” Vinnie asked.
“Yup,” Tallahassee pointed. “We take that there bridge straight into Sivatious’s lair and hope for the best.”
Sorrell passed around the broth, spooning out generous portions. “Make the most of it,” he muttered as he went. “We might not have the luxury of a fire for a while.”
Those few words put a damper on the night. The dwarves set up their ale barrel, pipes were primed, and they settled down. Then the air turned heavy, laden with foreboding. The land stilled, not a rustle of leaf, not the scurry of a squirrel. The birds vanished from the sky.
As the moon touched the roiling clouds, the first golden flash lit up the night sky, followed swiftly by another, then another, and then mauve flashes started countering.
At first, no one spoke. Vinnie had an inkling what was happening. He thought he understood, but didn’t want to voice it—he dreaded the thought, the vision, and all its implications. Angel broke first—someone had to.
“It’s Fin,” she whispered, drawing closer to Vinnie.
“We’re too late,” Vinnie gasped, as vivid gold flashed brilliant, silhouetting the mountain with its light, and bursting out along the bridge.
“She’s winning,” Angel said, leaning forward, tensing, willing Fin on.
Another flash, a purple rebuttal, golden light bending backward. More purple, the gold just a slither on the bridge.
“She’s losing,” Vinnie said, his anguish knotting his gut.
Then the gold slowly rose, like a paper fan unfolding. A slice now, it reared up against the mauve. It glowed with potent power. Its pressure built in the valley. With a tumultuous bang, the gold erupted toward the roiling clouds, obliterating any hint of purple. For just a moment, just a hint of time, Fin’s magic held sway.
In hope, Vinnie looked up at the sky, but then he heard those whispered words again.
“Goblin, goblin.”
A crack shook the earth, boulders tossed in the air like pebbles, trees flattened like matchwood as a blast of wind erupted from the valley beyond the bridge. The very earth, the rocks, heaved in abhorrence, and dread filled each of the party’s hearts. Vinnie grabbed hold of Angel, the bluster threatening to sweep them off the bluff. Atrixa sought shelter behind Sorrell. The great rock they were perched on stretched, groaning, and threatening to break away from its precarious roots. The river dried, its bed just a mass of rock, scree picked up, clattering down the valley.
“Hell’s Bane, he’s used the Hell’s Bane against her!” Angel screamed her horror-filled words. “It will tear at the very fabric of the land.”
Gold vanished, purple vanished, the wind calmed, the rocks clattered down, and the river burst back in a maelstrom of angry white. A heavy silence, oppressive, hideous silence fell. All looked at the bridge for any hint of gold. Vinnie smiled, cried out in joy as a small bloom of gold billowed out. He held his rigid stance as it slowed, stopped then receded.
“Goblin, goblin.”
Purple rolled out of the valley, but that too petered out, losing momentum, dripping off the bridge’s edge.
“Goblin, goblin.”
Iridescent green suddenly outlined the mountain, and then reached up into the clouds, lighting them where once purple had dominated their gray. Emerald lightning then cracked down, small forks at first but soon reaching frenzy, thunder rolling around, rain lashing down.
They scurried back into the cave, Vinnie mouthing his spell and soft dwarven light spread about. At first, no one spoke, not even Little Red. Then Vinnie rallied, denial taking over from logic.
“Maybe she survived? Maybe she ran, she hid?”
He glanced around, desperate for encouragement.
“Look, she could have realized the battle was lost. She could have—”
Angel’s arm entwined with his, her tears glistening in the staff-light. “Fin would never run, never. She’s gone, Vinnie, there’s no coming back from that battle.”
“She fought well,” Atrixa said, awe coloring her few words.
“Aye,” said Borbon. “Whatever the outcome of this war, she made legend right there in that godforsaken pass.” The dwarf kicked out at a rock.
“Never felt so useless in my whole fucking life,” Gorbon growled, his fists smashing into the ground.
“We might as well go back, back to Hundewyrdich,” Angel muttered.
“No,” said Sorrell. “We must reclaim her body.”
“The Wanton Witch is gone,” Little Red told Vinnie. “She no longer walks this land.”
Vinnie thumped the walls. “No Sorrell, we need another plan. She’s gone. In her stead, we must fight on.”
“What have you got in mind?”
“We must give Tinderell the time she needs.”
“Seven against an army? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
Vinnie gritted his teeth. He started nodding. “Not seven—there’s eight of us.”
He drew out Little Red and held her up.
“There’s eight of us, Sorrell, not seven. Who’s in? Who’s going to help me avenge The Wanton Witch—avenge Fin?”
“Aye,” said Borbon. “Count me in.”
“Aye,” said Gorbon.
Angel hugged him tightly. “Aye.”
Atrixa too. “Aye.”
The half-giant stood. “Never thought you lot had it in you. Aye,” he said.
Chapter Thirty
Vinnie tipped his hat low, the rain cascading down, the road long since turned to mud, any stone and gravel washed away. Overhead, the sky glowed emerald. Whatever Sivatious had unleashed had stained the sun, the moon, and now no one in the land could escape his power.
From north to south, folk were looking up in awe and fear.
Angel pulled alongside him, her poncho shedding water in cascading rivulets, her hair plastered close to her skin. She said nothing; there was nothing to say. They’d been traveling south for two days, two defeated days barely making headway.
Their route north had ended at the bridge. If Fin’s demise meant they had no reason to continue that war, the devastation beyond made the way impassable. Now they searched for a place to plant Little Red, but the ideal spot eluded them: too much wood, not enough stone, not close enough to the road, too far from it.
“Is she ever going to be satisfied?” Angel asked.
“It’s a long-term commitment,” Vinnie said, his mood still dour, his heart still broken.
He heard hooves behind, fast hooves, galloping hooves. Tallahassee flew past them. “Orcs,” she cried, “fucking thousands of the bastards.”
Vinnie craned his neck, but could see nothing in the dark…at first.
A line of iridescent green stained the horizon like an emerald wildfire sweeping forward. Borbon and Gorbon pelted past, Sorrell too. Atrixa pulled her mount up close, slapping his horse on its rump to get it moving.
The band galloped forward, but soon Vinnie saw Tallahassee had pulled her horse up, and he cried in anguish as he saw why. Like a plague of locusts, the crackcrawlers swarmed towards them. Then from either side, he saw packs of dread mutant Jackalopes.
“Equip staff,” Vinnie screamed, “Oh star in the sky, lend me your light, thanks, and make it fucking bright.”
The horses bucked. The horses whinnied. Atrixa jumped off hers, shooing it away. Tallahassee did too, Angel right after, and soon the band of seven stood in a circle as the forces of evil, as darkness’s minions gathered, baying, slathering.
“Equip mace,” Vinnie growled, planting his staff.
The crackcrawlers reached them first, greeted by a flurry of blades. They pressed forward, scrambling over twitching corpses, desperate to get to any of the party, any one of them, any ounce of fresh flesh.
Vinnie fought, swinging his mace furiously, but the press was too much, Sivatious’s hordes, relentless.
“Little Red, I need you Little Red!”
“I’m busy,” Little Red growled back.
Sorrell fell, a Jackalope
eating at his face.
Atrixa dropped to one knee, one arm limp by her side.
“Little Red!” Vinnie cried, desperation running riot through his mind, stepping back, crackcrawlers ever pressing, their swiping claws carving rents across his chest. He heard Angel scream. Her ensuing whimpers wrenching at his heart.
“Red!” he bellowed.
“Here will do,” she finally replied. “There’s iron; there’s stone, wood over yonder and an underwater river. But the best bit is—”
“What are you saying?” Vinnie screamed, an orc grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, tossing him backward.
“This place will do. Plant my core!”
Vinnie pushed himself up, the orc now beating on Angel. “Bit busy, Little Red,” he shrieked, landing the Morningstar right on the orc’s head, watching as its gore exploded out. The next came in short shrift, and another, and more. Their circle closed, their end, imminent.
“Plug me in and say the damn words,” Little Red growled. “Only I can save you now.”
“Equip core!” Vinnie shouted, staggering back. Angel fell, Atrixa too. Tallahassee was fighting a rearguard action, the dwarves on either side of her using the last of their reserves. Sorrell stood tall, tossing one crackcrawler away, then a jackalope, and punching seven bells out of a dangling orcen chin.
Little Red’s core appeared in his hand. He turned and dove for the bloody earth.
“Oh Demon Core, oh Demon Core,
Build me a dungeon
Thanks.”
A dome of red magic appeared around them, Angel, Atrixa, Tallahassee, Sorrell, the two dwarves, and Vinnie unaffected by its presence. The orcs, the crackcrawlers, and jackalopes exploded, splattering crimson against the shimmering shield. It expanded, growing, dissolving every foe until its edge guttered crimson, ten feet, twenty, then twenty-five.
Vinnie sat up. Angel stared at him, looking like some victim from a horror movie, head to toe in blood.
“What the actual fuck?” she said, as the ground below them opened up, Little Red spinning like a drill, boring down.
Sorrell tumbled in, Atrixa too. Tallahassee screamed in fear. A great grinding sound reverberating around, Vinnie’s teeth set on edge as he fell, somersaulting down.