Bardson Everdale’s Guide to Monsters

by ProfessorPine

Summary:

Imagine, if you will, a world created by an uncontrollably horny overgoddess.

Imagine she filled that world with all the creatures, cultures, and perils we have come to expect from a fantasy world but the overwhelming majority of life is equipped with breasts of unfathomable size and a body built to fuck.

Imagine if this goddess unleashed a handful of mortal men into this world with a sliver of her divine lust and the tools needed to express it.

Finally, imagine if one of those men wrote a book, a guide to fucking every monster the world has to offer.

That man is Bardson Everdale, and this is that book.

Chapter 1: Introduction

The Beginning

Long ago, at the beginning of time, a goddess created the Planes of Existence. This goddess’ name was Nymphona and she built her multiverse around a Prime Material Plane to which her name was given. The Goddess Nymphona is an enigmatic figure, where exactly in her vast planes she exists is unknown, yet she watches silently from the side-lines. She does not answer prayers or empower clerics, leaving this to a plethora of lesser goddesses, she lays her considerable power neither on the side of good or evil, law or chaos. The one thing that can be said for sure of her is that Nymphona is a deity of the highest lust. For better or worse, this divine lust shapes the multiverse, from the soaring hights of the Seven Heavens to the infinite depths of the Abyss and everywhere in between.

Trends and Demographics

No matter where you go in the multiverse, female life dominates in number. Though numbers vary depending on the manner of creature one is dealing with, female instances eclipse males in every case. Female life can be identified by a large pair of breasts, often around a quarter of a creature’s total volume, and a vagina. Femininity is so wide spread so as to even be occasionally found in the inanimate, some regular plants can grow with a pair of tits, and even some geological features bare a resemblance. To maintain their numbers, most mortal female creatures of the same kind can have sex with each other to create offspring. 

For true breeding power however, one must look to males. Male creatures are a rare breed. Many types of creature simply can’t be male and in those that can produce male instances, men are so infrequently born that a male creature sees another only rarely.

Making up for their numbers, male creatures are panicles of virility and sexual prowess. The male creature’s cock, normally around a third of their hight or body length, can, in most cases, potentially impregnate any female life, not to mention its ability to fill them with mind numbing ecstasy. Male humanoids are usually prompted to spread their sexual gifts with an innate wanderlust that drives many to become adventurers. This is not to say women can’t become adventurers too, indeed, female adventurers still outnumber men by a huge degree.

Different creatures, not to mention different people and cultures, respond to men in different ways. Some give themselves over to men entirely, considering them divine gifts from Nymphona who should be served above all else. Other creatures consider men a threat to their freedom or dominance and wish them to suffer pitfalls or even death. Most female life is more moderate, especially among the traditionally good or neutral, where men are held to a similar standard to their female equivalents but with an understanding of the boons and dangers their masculinity can present.

Creature type Characteristics

For the purposes of this record, the monsters, people, and beings of Nymphona and its connected planes are divided into categories. Below is a list of those categories with a brief explanation of what it means to be a part of them and what general trends are to be found in terms of sexual demographics.

Aberration

Creatures that trace their origin to a place beyond mortal comprehension, outside of the creation of the goddess Nymphona. Though not always directly evil, the alien visage of an aberration tends to bend mortal sanity, while the maddening nuances of an aberration’s mind lead many to treat the creatures of this world with cold indifference, using them remorselessly as is convenient to their inscrutable goals.

Though from outside of Nympona’s reality, entering the world forces aberrations to comply to at least a few natural laws. Namely, aberrations lose their apparently genderless nature, instead becoming female. Since all aberrations who enter reality become female and cannot birth males, male aberrations are virtually non-existent, often limited to those aberrations that propagate by converting native life.

Beast

Largely consisting of mundane, non-magical animals, beasts often serve as the bulk of the ecosystem in most places, especially on the material plane.

Especially among bigger creatures like horses and lions, beasts are actually more likely to produce males than other types of creatures. Though still rare, a human will at least likely know were the nearest stallion or bull resides. This perhaps relates to a unique feature of male beasts. While in most sexual encounters the resultant offspring is usually defined largely by the species of the mother, the offspring of a male beast is always a variant on his species. A dragon fucked by a stallion may birth a half-dragon horse and a demon may birth a fiendish horse, but a stallion’s sire is always a horse of some kind.

Celestial

Natives of the upper planes, Celestials embody good in a completely literal sense. All but morally incorruptible, a Celestial unswervingly takes the path that they see as good. Many Celestials are made or employed by goddesses of goodness.

Spontaneously created or naturally birthed celestials are always female, male celestials can come to be however by moulding the soul of a good male creature into divine form. Most Celestials are immortal and therefore do not breed amongst each other all that much, not even male ones. Sometimes however, celestials, male or female will breed with mortal creatures, creating half-celestial life.

Construct

Made rather than born, constructs are inanimate materials animated by either magic or a living force (such as an elemental). Thanks to how the generation of life works in Nymphona’s world, all constructs are female. Prebuilt constructs will fail to animate unless a pair of suitably sized breasts and a vagina are built for them, while spells and other phenomena that cause spontaneous animation grant these assets as part of their magic. While it is hypothetically possible to create a male construct by transferring a living man’s soul into an object, this has yet to be achieved.

Except in extremely rare circumstances where a construct was made for the express purpose of doing so, no female creature can impregnate a construct and a construct cannot impregnate. Male creatures however can impregnate a construct, if they can overcome a naturally poor fertility, the creature born depending largely on what animates the construct.

Dragon

More than a large, scaley beast, dragons are the coalition of biological life and extreme power arcane, elemental, and divine. Most dragons are so powerful that their influence shapes the very land they inhabit. Though the average person may not recognise it is the case, dragons are also extremely sexual beings. Even a female dragon can impregnate or get pregnant by a huge array of living creatures, producing powerful, half-dragon offspring.

Despite this breeding power, virtually all dragons an adventurer is likely to meet will be female. While true dragons birth males with about the same frequency as humanoids do (if one takes into account their smaller numbers) fate seems to work against male dragons of all kinds. The vast majority of dragon males die before reaching any significant power or prominence. Only every few thousand years does a male dragon reach his peak, his lusts and his power often dominating the world, for good or ill. The offshoots of true dragons, like wyverns and dragon turtles have never been witnessed giving birth to males.

Elemental

Formed of the fundamental physical building blocks of creation, elementals are the living manifestations of fire, air, water, earth, and occasional combinations. Generally content to live on the elemental planes, elementals are most commonly encountered by mortals when they are magically summoned.

Being made from the fundamentals of creation, all naturally occurring elementals are female. Male elementals are almost unheard of and can only truly come to be from the rare confluence of elemental power and a male soul. Most elementals are spawned by the sporadic ebb and flow of the elemental planes and have little drive to have sex, it does seem however that most elementals can breed, albeit with incredibly poor fertility.

Fey

Living in or hailing from the Feywild, fey are a diverse and vibrant group of creatures. Often living at the very breaking point of passion and energy, fey can be larger-than-life allies or insidious villains. Being so full of vitality also makes many fey highly sexual beings. How this manifests however varies wildly.

As befits their vigorous nature, most fey can breed quite happily with many creatures, whether they be male or female. In the Feywild, male fey are about as common as male humanoids in the material plane. Male fey become sparce outside of their native realm however.

Fiend

If celestials are the envoys of the upper planes’ goodness, then the denizens of the lower planes, the fiends, represent their home’s evil. Coming in all shapes and sizes, fiends are devoid of love, empathy, or any of the other trappings of goodness. One way or another, fiends work towards the world’s doom.

Thankfully, most fiends are incapable of breeding with one another. Not even the rare male fiend can impregnate other fiends, the best they can do is seek other kinds of creatures with which to produce half-fiendish offspring, a feat achievable by powerful female fiends too. Half fiends can also be placed in the wombs of female fiends by non-fiendish men. Like celestials, male fiends cannot spring into existence unbidden. Instead, male fiends arise from the souls of men evil enough to be damned.

Giant

The technical requirement for creature to be considered a giant is that they are the mortal blood descendant of the primary giant goddess Annam All-Patter or her wife Othea. In practice however, people recognise giants by their towering size. Even the smallest giant kin almost double a humans hight. True giants meanwhile, the kinds not made from Othea’s divine dalliances, can stare comfortably into a first or even second floor window and shake the earth on their approach.

Apart from a few exceptions, female giants generally can’t breed outside of their own kind. Male giants have a similar sexual versatility to male humanoids but are vanishingly rare. The number of male giants on the material plane at any one time can probably be counted on a single hand, two if one were to count giant kin.

Humanoid

What most individuals would count as “people”, humanoids make up the majority of sentient life on the Material Plane. While many who consider humanoids as a whole would first think of so called “civilised” races like humans, dwarves, and elves, many humanoids are from typically savage, dark hearted races.

While they share a similar general body plan, humanoids are a fairly diverse group and most kinds of humanoid women aren’t capable of breeding with women outside of their race. On the flip side, humanoid men are some of the most prolific breeders known to the universe. At adolescence, most male humanoids develop a sense of wanderlust that drives them to adventure fucking, anyone and anything as they go. Unlike males of other creatures, such as fiends and the undead, male humanoids have the potential to impregnate any female life.

Though they are always pretty rare, the prevalence of male birth varies from race to humanoid race. As a rule, longer lived races birth fewer males. At the same time however, races with a predilection towards evil, like orcs and goblins, also have fewer male babies.

Monstrosity

Born of magical experimentation, supernatural fluke, ancient curses, or an origin lost to time, monstrosities are naturally supernatural. Sometimes bestial, other times sentient or even passable as a humanoid on first glance, monstrosities can be anything from arcane curiosities to a source of deadly peril.

Being such a widely varied group, female monstrosities are usually limited to their own kind in terms of breeding. Male monstrosities, normally much more versatile in their sexual options, are born about as commonly as male humanoids are. Among monstrosities, it is the less intelligent creatures that are more likely to birth males.

Ooze

Masses of generally acidic slime, oozes are some of the most basic creatures an adventurer may encounter. With little variance save a pair of breasts and an ever-shifting pussy, oozes tend to linger silently in dark places, like dungeons and caves.

Left to their own devices, oozes typically divide rather than breed. As such virtually no female life can impregnate an ooze. Oozes are also too simple it seems to generate male instances.

Plant

Creatures formed from vegetable or fungal matter. Plant creatures are differentiated from regular plants and fungi by their ability to move at an appreciable pace and visibly react to stimuli, thanks either to enchantment or a naturally adapted capability of their species.

While regular plants can sometimes have breasts and a vagina, virtually all animate plants do. Generally, a plant can only become male if it is gifted with a deceased male creature’s soul. This makes male plants very rare.

Undead

When fell powers lace their way into the body or soul of the deceased, an undead is created. Often possessed by a force set to destroy the living or bitterness at their afterlife being denied, most undead are of an evil or at least depressive nature.

Undead retain the sex of their living state, most undead however have little in the way of a sex drive. Even male undead are often more concerned with destroying the living or passing on, perhaps because all undead, male or female, are incapable of getting anyone pregnant. Similarly, female undead can only be impregnated by non-undead males and even then, their fertility is low. What an undead gives birth to varies, but it is almost always another undead and it seldom holds the ability to grow.

The Power to Impregnate

As well as being able to subject nearly any female creature to mind-rocking pleasure, the power of a male creature also makes them especially talented at impregnation. Humanoid men, in particular, have a chance to impregnate pretty much any female life, the ease of which is as discussed above. However, men can also control whether or not they impregnate a creature, at least to some extent. When a man cums inside a female creature’s womb, he does so either with or without intent to impregnate, if he does it with intent, the probability to impregnate is as discussed above, if he cums without intent, the female creature cannot be impregnated by that cumshot without incredible magical influence, such as the spell Wish or divine intervention. When a man cums with or without intent to impregnate is not always a conscious decision. What is chosen generally depends on the man’s moral standing and the present situation.

A good man who believes that his partner truly wants to get pregnant or must get pregnant for the common good must cum with intent to impregnate, even if he would otherwise not want to. If he truly believes his partner does not want to get pregnant and there is no common good reason for her to get pregnant anyway, he must cum without intent to impregnate, even if he would otherwise want to. If he is honestly unsure, he may decide on his intent consciously when he cums.

A neutral man who truly believes that his partner wants to get pregnant must cum with intent to impregnate. Otherwise, he may decide on his intent consciously when he cums.

An evil man who truly believes impregnating his partner would be injurious to himself or his plans may decide on his intent consciously when he cums. Otherwise, he must cum with intent to impregnate, even if he would rather not.

Introducing Your Author

Greetings, as you may have guessed from this work’s title, you may call me Bardson Everdale. I am an adventurer, writer, weaver of bardic magic and, by no means least of all, a man. I spent my younger years as an orphan, living by the graces of the temple and wolf’s head inn in the small town of Everdale, thus my second name. My first name is derived from the piece of sheet music my biological mother left me with, leading to the assumption that I was the son of a bard.

Everdale is long in my past however. On the eve of my eighteenth year, I left my hometown with a couple of companions for adventure. In my travels, I have met many fantastical creatures, I have fucked a great many too. Not all lays were easy however, so for those men that may choose to follow in my footsteps, I write this guide, a guide to fucking the monsters of our world.

Chapter 2: Aarakocra (Art)

Found for the most part in scattered tribes, aarakocra are rare humanoids made distinct by an array of avian features, talons, feathers, and of course a pair of wings that can carry them aloft. Despite their reserved, tribal nature, most aarakocra consider it their solemn duty to protect the world from elemental evil.

Fighters of Elemental Evil

Far back in the midst of time, when the civilisations of the Material Plane were simple hunter gatherers with little understanding of what lay beyond, the multiverse suffered a grievous wound. From this infinitely deep tear, known now as the Abyss, came forth unending swarms of demons, led by a being known as the Queen of Chaos. The first to notice and combat this incursion of evil was not the legions of angels in the upper planes, but the denizens of the Inner Planes, lead by a race called the vaati, also known as the Wind Duchesses of Aaqa.

Unfortunately, the Wind Duchesses are slow to breed and even before the great battle, they were few in number. It is not known whether they were created at this time or simply employed, but the aarakocra served the vaati, filling out their numbers as scouts and skirmishers, eliminating the chaotic invaders and destroying those elementals who fell to evil’s corruption, gargoyles in particular became the aarakocra’s enemy. 

Though the Queen of Chaos’ united invasion was crushed with the destruction of her greatest commander by an artifact called the Rod of Law, many aarakocra still consider themselves to be in service to the Wind Duchesses. Most patrol their native home, a part of the Elemental Plane of Air called the Howling Gyre, protecting it from invasion. Still other tribes have found their way to other places, notably the Material Plane. Here, they guard portals back to their own home or hunt down the forces of Elemental Evil.

Lives on the Wing

Aarakocra on the Material Plane tend to live in small tribes, led by the eldest among them. Food and simple wood and stone tools are shared freely. Not interested in trade or commerce, aarakocra make their own supplies, hunt wild game, and snatch crops from the fields they fly over, for the aarakocra lack a concept of individual possession, an object or resource is used by those that need it, and whatever’s left is cast to the wind.

While this frustrates farmers and noblewomen whose farms and hunting reserves are so flagrantly poached, aarakocra tend to be beneficial to the realms they inhabit. Aarakocra keep a sharp eye out for evil and destruction, in realms the aarakocra tend to inhabit, folk have less to fear from the ravages flying monstrosities like perytons and chimeras, that the aarakocra hunt down.

Sex and Sexuality Among Aarakocra

For all their freedom, aarakocra lives are short, with old age coming at around thirty years old. Thanks to this, many aarakocra are incredibly eager to find a mate and reproduce. Not having the time for the fanfare of weddings and grand romantic gestures, an Aarakocra with affections for another, states her desire to have sex and produce offspring with a directness that many races would consider shockingly blasé.

This is not to say an aarakocra lacks the capacity for love and romance, indeed, Aarakocra often lavish their partner with both, merely preferring a lot of little shows of love over overarching displays of affection. Like with forming a relationship, aarakocra normally seek to breed with similar rapidity, an aarakocra usually laying her first clutch of eggs at less than a decade of age. Aarakocra tent to have only two or three viable eggs per clutch but once they are laid, the mother will warm them for the full eight months it takes for them to hatch, her mate working to keep her fed and protected during.

Once an aarakocra hatches, childhood is short, with adulthood coming at a mere three years of age. With such little time before independence, an Aarakocra is taught the mere basics of life, hunting, navigation, nest building, and the place of her flock in the grand scheme of the multiverse.

Thanks to the notable differences in appearance and speed of relationship, few women of other humanoid races are interested in pursuing a romance with an aarakocra. In any case, aarakocra women seem to be sexually incompatible with other kinds of woman, so few would accept non-aarakocra mates anyway.

Men to Aarakocra

Aware of how any humanoid man can easily impregnate them, aarakocra are generally more welcoming to the idea of having sex with them. As swift as they are mating with other aarakocra, aarakocra women make their decision to fuck a man even faster, often deciding minutes after she spots him.

Generally, if a man doesn’t look immediately evil or dangerous, an aarakocra will quickly decide that she wants to breed with him. This can be quite an abrupt event, with the aarakocra literally dropping from the sky mid-strip in order to get a moment to have him to herself before other aarakocra try to cut in.

In this way, a man who is pleasantly surprised to find one aarakocra diving down to breed with him may soon find himself going through the entire flock, impregnating each in turn.

Male aarakocra are rare, even compared to the prevalence of men among other humanoid races. When one is born, he will usually impregnate his whole flock before he can fly. Once fledged, an aarakocra man will often leave to spend the rest of his life flying from one hot spot of female life to the next, choosing to fuck those most open to accepting a man’s cock within them with the least resistance before moving on.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 3: Aboleth (Art)

Deep underground, in lakes and seas that never see the light of day, the aboleths dwell. From the outside, one may mistake an aboleth for some kind of oversized mutant fish or giant squid. To assume one faces a simple aquatic brute however is a foolish and likely lethal oversight. In truth, aboleths are masters of both their body and their mind, with memories that extend back to before the dawn of time.

Enmity for the Goddesses

Before life as we know it, before the world, before even the planes and the goddesses that rule them, there was an unknowable stew of non-existence, a silent cacophony of primordial powers, aberrant minds, and among them all the aboleths. This primordial state, this un-realm, was an immeasurable maelstrom of chaos where nothing could be changed for there was no stable base on which change could be initiated. Even basic concepts like male and female could not take hold, the aboleths and everything alongside them somehow existing in a state where they were neither.

Before the overgoddess Nymphona could hope to create her world, she had to bring the primordial state to a manageable, mutable form. Though Nymphona’s power was, and still is, absolute, the primal state of being firmly resisted her alterations, sparking a war no mortal can possibly imagine. Eventually, with the aid of several divine pantheons, Nymphona wrested control of the world from the forces of unknowable nonexistence.

Though Nymphona and the goddesses won the war, they could not entirely erase the aberrant forces that defied them. Deep in hidden corners of the multiverse, primordial beings still sit, reconsolidating. Among these remnants are the aboleths.

Though able to survive into the creation of our world, aboleths are not unmarked by the goddesses’ victory. Living in a multiverse governed by Nymphona’s will, an aboleth’s physical form is forced to obey the laws of reality to some extent. Namely, on the creation of the multiverse, aboleths changed from genderless entities, to gendered, specifically female, creatures.

Immortal creatures with pristine memories that can be inherited through the generations, all aboleths recall the time before time, their existence before existence. They remember how Nymphona and the goddesses changed the status quo, caused their bodies to gain some semblance of sense, growing breasts and organs capable of being impregnated. For all the loss and change inflicted upon them, the aboleths loathe the divine and constantly scheme for the chance to lay the goddesses low.

Madness Eternal

Aboleths are immortal creatures, not aging, but merely gathering knowledge and power eternally. Aboleths cannot even be truly killed. An aboleth slain by any means short of a fundamental shift in reality will eventually return to life somewhere in the Elemental Plane of Water. From there, it is only a matter of time before an aboleth gets her schemes back on track.

One of few ways for an aboleth is to be permanently destroyed is if she is consumed by another of her kind. This can happen on occasion, aboleths are not a united species and consumption may be a decent way for an aboleth to rid herself of a rival. However, aboleths attain the memories of any creature they consume, including other aboleths. Therefore, an aboleth who eats another aboleth stores all her rival knew in her own perfect memory, making the memory of an aboleth practically indestructible.

Though physically and psionically powerful in her own right, an aboleth usually prefers to express her will through intermediaries. Thanks to her powerful telepathy, an aboleth can reach out to mortal creatures that approach her lair and offer them their darkest desires.

Those that a drawn to the psychic call are mentally enslaved. Such a victims body falls into thrall of the aboleth, following her commands and transforming into an aquatic, translucent form. The mind meanwhile is eventually lost, falling into a psychic fantasy of the aboleth’s construction, in her own sick way fulfilling her promise.

Sex and Sexuality Among Aboleths

Being fully immortal, aboleths rarely have a need to reproduce. On rare occasions an aboleth may want to produce an offspring to aid her in her plans. Aboleths are however capable of impregnating themselves and almost always chose to do so instead of involving another who may betray them. Aboleth offspring also retain the memories of their mother, making them essentially smaller, weaker clones of her who will likely be eaten when her use for them is complete.

As for non-reproductive sex, feelings like love, sexual attraction, and lust beyond a simple nervous reaction to genital stimulation are foreign concepts to an aboleth. Doubtlessly, most aboleths can call upon the memories of a consumed mortal to understand these sensations objectively, even to feign them for an advantage, but aboleths neither feel nor wish to feel such emotions, considering them artifacts of Nymphona’s lust on her creations.

Men to Aboleths

In the eyes of an aboleth, a man is simply Nymphona’s final insult towards them. Equipping mortals with a gender she can’t have, with the potential to render her pregnant, positioning them as if they could possibly be able to dominate her show’s to the Aboleth’s mind at least that Nymphona truly offers them no form of respect.

Sometimes of course, whether by powerful magics, outside assistance, great combat ability, or pure blind luck, a man is able to express dominance over an aboleth by fucking her. This rarely lasts, an aboleth’s heart is too cold and her mind too powerful to be swayed or broken by mere sexual pleasure. Instead, it fills her with a vengeful rage.

Sexual pleasure does have some effect on an aboleth however. Most of the time, an aboleth’s mid is as secure as a steel strongbox, inaccessible without her doubtful permission. While being fucked however, an aboleth’s mind loses some cohesion temporarily letting spellcasters more safely get past her protections to extract valuable fragments of her perfect memory. Sometimes, delving into an aboleth’s mind mid-fuck is the only way to learn knowledge forgotten by time.

A man can also try to impregnate an aboleth. While there are records of men successfully fucking an aboleth and many of those encounters end with a probable impregnation, the nature of an aboleth pregnancy and what manner of creature she gives birth to is unknown to mere mortals.

Chapter 4: Angels

Residents of the Upper Planes of existence, most angels come into being when a goddess on the side of good finds a worthy soul and invests them with great divine power. Though most resemble supernaturally beautiful wigged humanoids, an angel’s form is secondary to what is on the inside, a perfect unity of the goodness of the upper planes and the lawful determination to guard and uphold it.

In general, angels approach sex with a fairly neutral view. On the one hand, mutual pleasure and the generation of life are inherently good actions. On the other, sex can be and is used for power plays, rape, and other abominable things. As such, angels only engage in sex for the former reasons and seek to actively punish its latter use. Angels are whatever gender they were as an uninvested soul, so male angels may have more sex than their compatriots spreading joy through the Upper Planes or descending to breed important women of good countenance. The results of these unions, or sex between female angels and mortals of either sex, is an aasimar, a humanoid of divine beauty and limited celestial power, often with a mental connection to their angelic parent.

Angels come in a variety of forms. In the next three chapters, we will cover the most well known examples.

Chapter 5: Deva

Likely the most common angel to meet on the Material Plane, deva are nonetheless powerful and breath-taking in their true form. A powerful, silver skinned  being with an unearthly lustre to her eyes and great wings on her shoulder blades, a deva can heal or even raise the dead with a touch and strike with weapons full of radiant light. Most of the time however, deva take on a far more humble guise, built to draw attention away.

Eyes of the Divine

Though fully willing and capable of fighting the scourge of evil, a deva’s intended task is to act as a link between the Upper Planes and the inner ones, the planes of the elements, the Shadowfell, the Feywild, and of course the Material Plane. In times of great need, a deva may show herself to the mortal forces of good to deliver messages from their goddesses. But most of the time deva are compelled to watch the goings on of the forces of good and evil among mortals and reporting them to their superiors.

Goodness in Humble Form

Knowing that their angelic appearance frightens and can even spur unwanted worship from mortals whose souls are innocent, deva generally do not occupy the inner planes in their true form. Thanks to her divine magic, a deva can take on nearly any shape that matches her sex, but usually prefers the forms of humanoids and beasts, especially those that do not draw attention.

It is rare that a deva will rule a nation as it’s queen for instance, nor will she become a fearsome lioness or the like unless circumstances demand it. Instead, one in search of a deva should look into the eyes of an old hermit, an urchin, or else a perching songbird or stray cat. It is said that no matter how she looks, no matter how scared, aged, or otherwise marred her appearance is, a disguised deva radiates her inner beauty.

Though rarely upfront, deva are not passive in their duties. In her disguise, a deva attempts to subtly sway the course of events in the world to guide heroes and foil villains. In the form of a sage, a deva may give her knowledge to adventurers out to defeat evil. She may on occasion turn into a knight or priest in order to fight alongside them.

Just as they affect the world around, deva are influenced by the mortal world. Though a deva will virtually never fall from the hights of order and morality, most come to understand that living outside of the perfection of the Upper Planes forces even the best mortals will stumble and compromise. As such, a Deva is more likely to tolerate or forgive misdeeds by those who remain of good intentions.

Sex and Sexuality Among Deva

Like all angels, deva are immortal and thus have no motivation to reproduce amongst each other. When new deva are needed, they are created by goddesses out of willing mortal souls who show a strong inclination goodness and a curiosity that gives them potential as scouts and messengers.

This is not to say that deva do not have sex. All of the cultural trappings of mortal society aside, sex is an activity where two living things endeavour to bring pleasure to each other. Therefore, it is no surprise that some deva, when not engaged in a mission for good, have sex, despite what some more puritanical priestesses may attest.

How and how often deva fuck is normally a matter of personality, and thus is ultimately a reflection of the goddess she serves. The deva of more uptight deities may hold off on sex but for very special occasions. On the other hand, those serving deities of fertility and love may fuck frequently, with each other, and also with a myriad of good people, creatures, and beasts. Typically, a deva does not reveal her holy nature to mortal sexual partners, but will be upfront about how their duties only allow them to have shorter flings between missions.

One time deva do reveal their divine nature is when they are sent by their goddess to impregnate a mortal with an aasimar child. A goddess typically decrees the birth of an aasimar in response to foreseen difficulties where the forces of good require a less obvious but more direct hand in mortal affairs. Since a deva is typically busy with divine duties, it is more common for her to impregnate her mortal partner and then leave, letting their offspring be born on the Material Plane where they can do the most good. Still, a deva does not leave her child entirely. With a strong mental connection, the deva communicates with her aasimar through dreams, offering them guidance and moral support.

Men to Deva

Since deva are usually both worldly and good, deva are typically not given to prejudice against men and typically seek their own facts on them before passing judgement. At the same time, a deva knows that a man’s rarity, adventurous spirit, and propensity for sticking his nose (and more) into the business of others  can make him a focal point of great upheaval and change, for good or ill and is thus worth keeping an eye on, typically in a non-intrusive form.

While a man who shows himself to be a villain under a deva’s unseen watch will swiftly find himself punished and the women of the area saved from being raped, it is no certain thing that a deva will go out of her way to reward a man who does good, especially when his goodness is fairly run of the mill.

A deva’s willingness to let a mortal man fuck or impregnate her relies largely on her goddess or current tasks. A prudent or busy deva will likely offer the man some subtle assistance in his journey to do good, possibly with directions to some willing sexual partners thrown in, and then send him on his way. A deva who has the time and countenance to fuck a man will not shy away from proposing he proceed to have sex with her, often with very little shame, since this is an emotion mortals feel from doubting their own worth which angels do not experience. A deva impregnated by a mortal man usually leaves her aasimar baby in the care of a temple or similar institution so she may return to her divine duties.

Deva do not usually shed their earthly guise to fuck a man. Therefore, a good man may go his entire mortal life without realising he has lain with a deva. A deva only shows herself to a mortal man in grave times, offering the chance to breed her divine form as an immediate reward for championing the cause of good when it matters most.

As mentioned, deva can be male if they are formed from the soul of a good male creature. In fact, while by no mean common, more male deva are thought to exist than any other type of angel, for a variety of reasons. Primarily, the wanderlust many men carry with them into the afterlife lends itself well to the missions of a deva. Secondly, deva are the angels most often called upon to fuck mortal women and impregnate them with aasimar, a mission male deva take to this task as eagerly as a mortal man would.

Chapter 6: Planetar (Art)

Normally showing themselves as towering, muscular beings, over ten feet tall with hairless, opalescent green skin and broad, feathered wings, a planetar's form barely contains the burning light of justice within. The forceful hands of their goddesses, the appearance of even one planetar on the Material Plane would provoke widespread terror and hope. Terror because such an angel’s appearance would signal the arrival of great evil, hope because with her arrival salvation is at hand.

Blades of the Upper Planes

Formed from those souls driven to fight for what is right, planetars make the bulk of their goddess’ fighting force. When fiends amass to despoil what is good and right, the planetars descend on them in righteous fury. In battle, a planetar typically wields a greatsword, imbued with her holy light, though the planetars of particular gods may opt for other weapons. A planetar wields her blade with precision and grace but have plenty of power besides.

A planetar’s touch can reverse injury or even death. More aggressively, a planetar can will forth rings of whirling blades and columns of divine fire. Driving forth this aggression is an organised tactical mind, a fearless countenance, and a will to lay down her life for the greater good when it becomes necessary.

Serve Above, Lead Below

Though the faultlessly loyal soldiers of the goddesses of good, planetars are not mindless drones. Instead, each planetar is chosen by a goddess when she sees her own ideals reflected in their hearts, minds, and souls. This means that, even away from her goddess’ guidance, a planetar can make autonomous decisions, almost always making the call of which her goddess would most approve. This is useful on missions into enemy territory but also when a crisis calls a planetar to the Material Plane.

Sometimes, a planetar may be summoned to aid a particularly high valued servant of her goddess. Most of the time however, if a planetar appears on the Material Plane, then it means that a significant evil is on the rise there and the planetar intends to lead the mortal forces of good against it.

When a planetar gives commands, she expects them to be followed to the letter. Used only to the extremes of perfect goodness in her home plane and irredeemable evil on the planes of the enemy, a planetar is often a harsh judge. Lies ring bitter and obvious in a planetar’s ears, her eyes meanwhile pierce the craftiest of illusions or disguises.

No matter how minor, a planetar can rarely let herself see evil go unpunished. In a single expression of distain, a planetar can unleash a horde of locusts to scour an unclean realm, or wrack the place with storms. Despite this capacity for punishment however, planetars are fundamentally beings formed of good who are thus capable of compassion and mercy, when the situation allows. With a word, a planetar can calm the winds, clear the skies, or call down rain to nourish a settlement’s crops.

While planetars seem rare on the Material Plane, they have also shown themselves to be able to turn invisible, opening up the possibility that planetars have a much more active role among mortals than is generally thought, watching over us unseen.

Sex and Sexuality Among Planetars

Being as immortal as any other angel, risen from the souls of the bravest and most just deceased mortals, planetars usually feel no need to breed. While planetars are physically and emotionally equipped to have sex for pleasure, this activity is rare too. Though it can vary a little since personality and outlook largely depend on the goddess that she was created by, most planetars take their roles as warriors too seriously to deal in trifles such as simple sexual pleasure.

Still, a planetar is generally wise enough to recognise the happiness sex brings to others and the necessity of sex among mortal life so avoid disparaging it as much as she can. Still, sex feels like a wasted resource to most planetars, who thus avoid getting involved as much as they can. It is thus rare for a planetar to present herself as a romantic companion to a hero or be in charge of breeding an aasimar into a mortal.

Men to Planetars

Having a general opinion that they are above sexuality, most planetars are uncomfortable interacting with men, beings who seem all but completely dedicated to the pursuit of sex.  Still, with how many pivotal events seem to hinge around them, a planetar will likely cross paths with a man on a few occasions.

Generally, a planetar will keep her interactions with a man at a minimum. Though usually perceptive enough to tell the difference between sexual and rapacious desire, a planetar may often worry about the possibility that a man will drift from one to the other and so fall to evil. To check the state of his morality, a planetar may test and question a man constantly, but quiries along the lines of “would you have sex with me right now?” are open to being misconstrued.

Despite all this caution and distance, a planetar is a being of good who is fond of goodness in other beings. As such, a planetar who spends a while with a good hearted male adventurer may grow interested in exploring why he is so interested in sex first hand. This is usually permitted under the purview of choosing to award a good deed. No sex is likely to start however while a threat requiring a planetar’s attention still looms.

When made from a soul of an appropriate sex, planetars can be male. However, male planetar’s are quite rare since most good men see fighting evil as secondary to breeding and spreading love. Some men however see themselves, cock included, as a weapon to punish evildoers. When these men die, their souls usually make better candidates to become planetars. Though equipped to do so, these male planetars are rarely seen raping demons or other fiends. The way a male planetar sees it, their cock is a tool to aggressively try and sway a villain onto the path of righteousness. This seems to be the case, records show villains, monsters, and even bulwarks of evil like chromatic dragons seeking the path of redemption after being brutally raped by a planetar’s cock and filled with his holy sperm. Fiends on the other hand are beyond redemption and have naught to be done with but putting them to the sword.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 7: Solar

All but deities in their own right, solars are the peak of the angelic hierarchy. Few in number, and often hand crafted by a goddess as an extension of her will, no two solars are exactly alike. All however are blessed with monumental divine power, perfect insight, and an incorruptible loyalty to the side of good.

Champions of Morality

Among the forces of evil, nothing is feared more than the arrival of a solar. In battle, a solar’s weapon, typically a holy and legendary blade, may leap from her hand to slice through the field of battle on its own. To look into a solar’s eyes as her enemy is to be blinded by radiant fury. Even a scratch from an arrow, loosed by a solar’s bow, spells the doom of all but the mightiest of fiends.

With such a vast array of powers, a solar is a holy bulwark of goodness, wholly unassailable to evil. Chromatic dragons flee a solar’s approach like vermin. At a solar’s resonant command, even archdevils and demon lords shrink away to the dark crevices of their corrupted homes. As for the forces of good, no good creature can help but be filled with hope and awe at a solar’s presence.

Divine Stewards

The one limitation, it seems, to the capabilities of the solars are their numbers. A goddess of good seems capable of making only one solar at her command, shaping it from an especially successful lesser angel or the soul of one of her faith’s champions. Some goddesses don’t even take up the chance to make a solar of their own.

Most goddesses send their solar to battle only at the most dire or pivotal of times. The rest of the time, a solar is usually found at her deity’s side, exercising her vast knowledge, morality, and insight to offer her goddess advice, consolation, and companionship.

A few solar’s, mentioned only fleetingly in scripture, seem to have no goddess to command them. whether they arose spontaneously from the worthiest of souls or their goddess was somehow lost is unknown. These solars seem to be fairly inactive, spending centuries in the Upper Planes in contemplation, ready to arise in the face of crisis. No solar, in fealty to a goddess or otherwise has been known to enter the Material Plane. Such an arrival, if it ever occurred, would signal the start of an apocalyptic scenario.

Sex and Sexuality Among Solars

As well as fighting her battles, organising her troops, and helping with her divine works, some goddesses also create their solar with the intent of them becoming her lover. This is by no means always the case, many goddesses raise their solar with purely for practical or platonic purposes, choosing fellow goddesses as lovers or taking no personal interest in sex at all.

Of course, being goddesses of good that make angel, the relationship between a sexually involved goddesses and their solars are in no way born of begrudging obligation. The conversion from a companionate mortal soul to a goddess’ sexually active solar is less akin to employment and more so a gift to a lover, one who the goddess is already familiar with and knows her sexual attraction is mutual to.

Thanks to this selection process, a solar’s personality generally reflects or compliment’s her lover’s. In some partnerships, it is impossible to tell weather a goddess and her solar are sexually involved, in others the pairing is obvious by incredible sweetness or powerful but wholesome lust.

When not assigned to be her goddess’ sexual partner, most solars concern themselves too deeply with their remaining duties to give much thought to having sex with anyone else. A solar is far from soulless however, and is thus not incapable of love and sexual attraction, she simply doesn’t ever let these feelings get in the way of serving her goddess or the side of good.

Men to Solars

If a man has ever successfully lain with a solar, it has yet to be recorded. A solar has nothing against men as a people, though as a matter of prudence are usually on the look out for sexual villainy when a man’s involved. Even if a man is firmly on the side of good however, solars are incredibly rare and incredibly busy, far too busy to personally reward a man’s deeds with her body.

Some say that men who advance the side of good get to have sex with all kinds of angels in the afterlife. There is little scripture to support this for solars specifically, but it isn’t impossible a solar that happens on a deserving male soul may choose to reward him.

Many men, looking to fuck a solar before their mortal lives come to an end, go on long quests to perform as much good as they can, in the hopes the shear scale of their goodness might draw a solar’s attention. This has not been confirmed to work, but many men have found a life of good deeds and heroism provide other rewards, sexual and otherwise.

Another quest many men engage with, especially those of a religious calling, drives them to aim their attempts to impress higher. The hope is that one day, in this life or the next, the man may fuck a goddess. Unlike with solars, there are a few record of these attempts being successful, for many of these men a goddess may choose to take in their soul after death to eternally reward them with her love and sex. Sometimes these male souls are invested with power to become solars, their divine duty being to eternally ravage the pussy of some aspect of their goddess, breeding them with divine offspring.

Chapter 8: Animated Objects

With potent skills in magic, a bard, sorcerer, or wizard may invest inanimate objects with a semblance of life. Normally, objects animated in this way, by relatively immediate spells, tend to hold on to motion for only a minute or so. However, with longer rituals, involving costly components and esoteric knowledge, one may be able to awaken an object permanently. Due to the laws of reality Nymphona imposed on the world, all such objects, able to move under their own power, must also be equipped with feminine assets, breasts and vaginas.

These animated objects are used by the wealthy to guard what they value most and trust to no flesh and blood defenders. With no will of her own, an animated object follows her instructions to the letter, with no consideration of purpose, morality, or personal desire. Warded with preserving charms many animated objects far outlive their creators, becoming a threat to any explorers that come later.

A great variety of inanimate objects can be animated through magic rituals. In the next three chapters, we will cover some of the more common examples.

Chapter 9: Animated Armour

Indistinguishable from a regular suit of plate mail armour while motionless without a close inspection, animated armour can spring to life on command or the fulfilment of some pre-ordained condition. Already designed to fit the humanoid frame, armour is often one of the best things to animate if one has tasks that are designed for people to perform. A suit of animated armour is just as often a fearless, incorruptible warrior as a tireless and exacting servant.

Work Without Complaint

Without desires or scruples of its own, a suit of animated armour follows the commands of its creator or whoever that creator handed control over to. Unable to learn, plan, or interpret beyond literal meaning, a suit of animated armour will continue to do exactly as it was told until the task is complete or it is given new orders. In battle, animated armour fights until called off by its owner or reduced to metal scrap, knowing no such thing as fear or hesitation. Some armours are instilled with an ability to wield a weapon, but this is usually a stylistic choice, since the swing of metal gauntlets, unbound by human strength, normally makes weaponry pointless.

Animated armour can also work outside of battle so long as it is given exacting orders and simple tasks. Craft and cooking is beyond most suit’s simple understanding, but serving food and cleaning are all possible. Some animated armour are even left doing endlessly repetitive tasks like pulling levers in response to stimuli or pumping water into a well forever, since a suit of armour need not sleep, eat, breathe, or alleviate otherwise inevitable boredom.

Unless given specific instructions are given concerning the eventuality, the death or loss of its master does not alter an animated armours duties. As such, there are suits of armour who continue to uphold the final commands of whoever they served, eternally sweeping the same patch of floor, standing guard over a long-collapsed door, or patrolling the halls of a once great castle which is now nothing more than scattered bricks. If tasked with defending its master’s home from interlopers, a suit of animated armour can prove a tenacious foe for adventurers searching the home’s crumbling ruin.

Voice of the Armour

For the most part, suits of animated armour make no noise save for the clank of metal plates and the chink of chainmail. This is not always the case however.

With rarer, more complex enchantments, a suit of animated armour can be gifted with an illusory voice. This ability to talk does not reflect self-awareness however, most animated armour is limited to a set of phrases that it can say and a narrow bracket of responses it knows how to reply to.

This verbal ability sees a range of uses. A suit of animated armour may be set to utter warnings or messages to those that pass it by or raise the alarm and threaten intruders when engaged in combat. In a more complex manner, a suit of animated armour set to stand guard over something may demand a password or pose a riddle to any who approach, standing aside for those that offer the correct response.

Some armours, mostly those made in times where mastery of magic was more commonplace, can even hold conversations. This however in in truth just an even more complicated web of pre-set statements and responses. Only a select few suits of animated armour have true self awareness and usually do not do so by design. After centuries of existence in a place saturated with magic, such as the Feywild, a suit of animated armour may absorb some of the untamed magic and gain a true intelligence and a will of their own. Most armour that experience this will abandon their posts in search of their life’s true meaning.

Sex and Sexuality Among Animated Armours

With no sense of self, personal desire, or preservation of its kind, animated armour virtually never has any sexual desire and will not engage in sex unless commanded to by its master or creator. Even if a suit of animated armour does have sex with another of its kind (or any other female life for that matter), it will not get pregnant, since animated armour is crafted and enchanted rather than born.

Despite this lack of sexuality, the laws of existence that were set in place when Nymphona created the world demand certain feminine assets be present on a suit of armour before it can be animated. Since most armour is forged to suit the feminine build, one may think this is automatically achieved by its natural shape. Unfortunately, the laws of magic require a bit more precision, namely a defined pair of tits and a vagina. If either of these assets are not present, a suit of armour will be warped to include them on animation. To avoid the appearance of their armour being irrevocably ruined, most smiths creating a suit of armour with the intent it will be animated intentionally add rough breast and pussy details to guide the magic into wreaking the smallest changes possible, namely, making those areas flexible despite still being metal.

Obviously, a suit of armour with a moderately realistic pair of breasts and a pussy hanging out is fairly simple to distinguish from a normal suit of armour. To counter this, and to establish a sense of decency, most owners of animated armour take pains to disguise their construct’s sexual assets. For the vagina, matters are fairly simple and a skirt of boiled leather or chainmail normally does the trick. For the breasts, an extra piece of armour is generally forged, a breastplate that can be clipped or bolted onto the armour over her tits.

However, in most cases, the modesty parts, the breastplate especially, lacks the protective charms that allows the rest of the armour to stand the test of time. As a result, adventurers exploring long abandoned dungeons often encounter suits of animated armour with their breastplates rusted away, leaving their steel tits on full display. This rarely impacts the threat a suit of animated armour poses. Though bouncier, the tits of animated armour is still as tough as regular steel plate. Animated armour also tends not to react to its loss of modesty, not having the intellectual capacity to feel shame.

Men to Animated Armour

Unable to hold personal biases, animated armour reacts to men the same way it would react to any being of the man’s kind, unless given instructions that concern. Generally, so long as it does not get in the way of her current task, a suit of animated armour will neither help nor hinder a man from fucking her until she is given specific instructions from her master or creator. Animated armour are generally unreactive to sex, no matter how hard they are fucked, giving no response unless ordered to. Still, the magic that makes armour animate makes its metal pussy flexible and stretchy enough to receive a man’s cock like a one of flesh and blood.

Though it is incredibly rare, a man’s sperm shot into the simple metal vessel animated armour has for a womb can sometimes interact with the magic that keeps the armour animate to create a phenomena akin to pregnancy. Over the course of about three months, the animated armour’s womb and the abdominal plates around it swell to about the size of a human baby. Despite this, her womb will continue to appear empty.

When the time comes to “give birth”, the armour’s womb and stomach will instead shrink back to their original state. While it may seem that nothing has happened, the truth is that animated armour simply gives birth to an invisible bundle of magic, instilled with a single task, find an inanimate suit of armour and animate it permanently. If the bundle of magic fails to complete its soul task within twenty four hours, it ceases to exist, if it succeeds, it fully integrates its magic into the new vessel, essentially becoming a new animated armour, considering the man who impregnated its “mother” to be its master and creator.

Chapter 10: Flying Sword

Whether laid among treasures in a chest or mounted on display in a lord’s dining hall a sword without a wielder is rarely a notable sight to the incautious. Sometimes however, those swords are waiting. Perhaps they await their master’s command, perhaps an eventuality, a thief breaking a chest open or intruding into a vault. At this moment, the blade jumps into the air as if held by an unseen warrior and strikes.

Tool of Warfare

Many animated objects, such as animated armour can perform a variety of different tasks aside from combat, such as carrying objects, cleaning, and simple maintenance. A flying sword however, limited by its physiology, is pretty much suited only to tasks of violence.

This singular purpose, reflects in the common behaviour most flying swords are made with. In combat a flying sword strikes fearlessly and viciously, with no concern for defence, trusting its metallic composition to shrug off most damage. With no sense of mercy or self preservation, the weapon slays whoever it is tasked to or is destroyed in the effort. When there is no blood that needs shedding, a flying sword rests motionless, utterly indistinguishable from a non-magical article.

For as limited in scope as a flying sword is in its own capabilities, many people have found a variety of creative applications for the small collection of activities it can perform. In the guise of decorative wall mounts, a flying sword acts as a hidden security force against thieves, assassins, and invaders. If given specific instructions, flying swords may play an integral part of a lethal trap that no mundane rouge can disarm. A warrior may even wield a flying sword in combat, either to cover their own ineptitude by having the weapon guide their hand like a master duellist’s, or to catch enemies off guard, letting it leap from their hand and fight by itself while they switch to a secondary weapon.

Weapons of Other Designs

Though far and away the most common, swords are not the only weapons that can be given permanent magical animation. What exactly an enchanter decides to animate can depend on a variety of factors, from preferred tactics to environment and local culture.

In a dwarven hold for example, a flying axe or war hammer is less likely to stand out among the treasures it has been placed to guard. What’s more, dwarves are more familiar with these weapons, both their construction and how they should be wielded, aiding in the animated version’s creation.

In a more practical sense a less common weapon may be chosen to suit the task at hand. If a flying weapon is supposed to fight underwater, it may be more efficient to animate a trident or something else that suffers less underwater drag. A flying “weapon” may even be a tool, like a broom or pickaxe, primarily used to automate its function but able to serve in combat if the need arises.

What unites most of these tools is a relative simplicity, lacking moving parts or complicated interactions. The more of these there are the harder the weapon will be to correctly animate. It is for this reason that, while they exist, self-loading flying crossbows and the like are a rarity.

Sex and Sexuality Among Flying Swords

When a sword or similar weapon is hit with a temporary animation spell, its form is instantaneously changed to suit the laws of animation set out by Nymphona herself. Normally around the guard, a pair of metallic spheres swell into existence and become breasts. At the same time, a vagina forms , usually in the pommel or on the flat of the blade.

While this is all well and good when a spellcaster is recruiting nearby objects to fight in her stead, a sword with tits hanging off of it is far from inconspicuous and would make for a poor hidden trap or security force. Therefore, when making a permanently animate flying sword, craftspeople employ a different, more involved process to preserve the appearance of a normal everyday sword.

At first glance, most flying swords seem to defy the requirements for all animate objects to have feminine features. However, there is no requirement for the feminine assets to be visible. Most often protruding from the pommel, most flying swords have a secondary body, formed of magic and completely invisible. Under the scrutiny of those magically able to see invisibility, this secondary form resembles a vaguely feminine figure with breasts, a pussy, and a pair of lips. While being  able to be touched, a flying sword’s invisible body will recover from injury instantaneously so long as the sword itself remains undamaged.

While equipped for sex, virtually no flying sword is instilled with even simulated sexual desire. A flying sword ordered to engage in sex by its creator or master usually does so rather clumsily, for it is unlikely to have been made with sexual proficiency in mind.

Men to Flying Swords

Unless instructed to favour or spare male combatants specifically, a man is nothing more than another target for attack or person to protect by a flying sword’s perception. Unless doing so gets in the way of its current task, a flying sword will neither resist nor open up to a man’s sexual advances. This can be especially awkward considering the fact that all the parts of a flying sword equipped to fuck are invisible. There are thankfully spells that let a man see what he is working with.

Normally, the virtually inert magic that forms the flying sword’s secondary body fails to interact with any sperm left inside after a man fucks it. Sometimes however, the man’s sperm manages to invigorate some of the magic and cause something akin to pregnancy.

A flying sword is generally “pregnant” for only a month or so. At the end of the pregnancy, the secondary body of the flying sword birth and exact full scale copy of itself, minus its sword. A detached mass of animating magic, this newly created phenomena is born unstable. If it does not stabilise within twenty-four hours of birth, it will cease to exist.

In order to stabilise the mass of magic must find an object similar to the one its “mother” animates, another sword, and integrate itself into it. This turns the sword into a new flying sword, loyal to its “father”.

Chapter 11: Rug of Smothering

In deep, ancient ruins and dungeons that have not seen civilised habitation for centuries, canny adventurers learn to be wary of anything that seems oddly well preserved. Among the humble objects that fill such veterans with trepidation is the humble floor rug. Weather a threadbare sackcloth spread or a sumptuous cashmere carpet, a crafty spellcaster can turn these humble soft furnishings into instruments of an unwary intruder’s slow, suffocating demise.

Ambush Furniture

Like with many animated objects, the rug of smothering’s greatest advantage is its ability to near perfectly resemble a harmless inanimate item. The rug of smothering however takes this to an extreme. Even to eyes able to magically pierce illusions and invisibility cannot differentiate between a normal rug and a resting rug of smothering. Only under the scrutiny of spells that detect magic can the transmutative charms that let the latter animate give it away.

As such, it may be only a matter of time before somebody the rug of smothering’s creator didn’t instruct it to spare gets within striking range. Though not the fastest mover, a rug of smothering can spring to life with great suddenness. Before its target knows what is happening, the rug wraps around them, compressing their body and their lungs by pressing them into its breasts. Bound, blindfolded, and struggling to breathe, a victim of a rug of smothering will be hard pressed to escape before the lack of air and crushing pressure finishes them.

If a victim has allies who will try to save her, they may do more harm than good. Being made of little more than fabric, much of force of magic and weapons being brought to bear on a suddenly animated rug passes right through. As such, attempts to fight a rug of smothering may severely injure or even slay its suffocating hostage before rug is reduced to inanimate, non-murderous tatters. Most wise adventurers thus dispose of potential rugs of smothering swiftly, before they get the chance to grab on, destroying suspicious carpets from a distance with magic or flaming torches.

Textile Flexibility

For all the years the secret to a rug of smothering has existed, adventurers and burglars alike have grown wise to the dangers they pose. In response to this, the makers of these rugs have adapted. One of the earliest alterations was to make certain rugs of smothering look like carpets of flying and other beneficial magic treasures. Not only did this obscure the function of the magic that animates it, but the disguise also encouraged those looking for treasure to actively approach their doom.

However, another innovation also arose. It has been discovered independently in may places that the charms that bring rugs of smothering to life can affect any similarly sized textiles, not jut rugs. In this way, nearly any soft furnishing can turn murderous, from curtains and tapestries that grab passers-by, to blankets and bedrolls that kill their users in their sleep. Some mages even wear cloaks capable of coming to life to strangle someone.

Sex and Sexuality Among Rugs of Smothering

While a peak under the breastplate can reveal an animated suit of armour by its steel breasts, and the ability to see invisibility shows a flying sword’s titties as clear as day, a motionless rug of smothering has no such tells, it sits in place with no defining bumps to speak of, as flat as the floor it lays upon.

The secret to this apparent defiance of Nymphona’s laws around animation instead comes from its strictest adherence. While it is true that an animate object needs breasts and a vagina in order to function, it is free to loose them when it ceases to be animate. When at rest, a rug of smothering’s animating magic goes dormant, allowing it to lose its feminine form and become an ordinary, if magically imbued, rug. If the rug must move, most often to attack a nearby target, the magic awakens and reanimates the fabric in which it resides.

While animated, a rug of smothering’s breasts don’t simply grow into existence. Instead, the rug bends and contorts, taking on a shape that gives the illusion that it is clinging tightly to a woman beneath it, tits included. The rug also develops a vagina and, for some reason, an unspeaking mouth by folding its fabric inwards in the correct places.

Despite having a sexual form, there is no sexual facet to a rug of smothering’s inner nature. A rug of smothering does as its master or creator commands with no feeling one way or the other about it. It is as incapable of lust as it is of any other emotion. This doesn’t mean that no situation regarding a rug of smothering is sexual however.

With a soft, textile body and a form painfully reminiscent of a woman while in motion, some owners of rugs of smothering find themselves considering sexual relations with them. in the end, rugs of smothering are nothing more than magically influenced objects with no will of their own, so most come to reason that fucking one is no more objectionable than masturbating with a toy. Sometimes however, as a result of these practices, a rug of smothering is left in an abandoned ruin with a command to fuck rather than smother, giving whatever explorer that awakens it a lurid surprise.

Men to Rugs of Smothering

Having no will to develop personal opinions from, a rug of smothering is no more or less willing to attack a man who gets too close to it. However, with a body made to squeeze and constrict, many men find themselves curious to discover if the rug’s pussy squeezes as hard as the rest of it. A man who can restrain a rug of smothering for long enough to get their cock into it, weather by strength or magical guile, will find that it most certainly does, and that rugs of smothering make some of the best fuck-toys of any animated objects.

While ejaculating into the infold that makes the rug of smothering’s vagina rarely does more than give it a cum splatter when it comes to rest, a man’s sperm sometimes interacts with magic that lets a rug of smothering animate and causes an effect similar to pregnancy.

The first sign that a rug of smothering is “pregnant” is that it becomes incapable of unanimating. A rug of smothering is thus forced to stay in its feminine form all the way until its “pregnancy” comes to term in a month’s time. Over that month, the rug’s abdominal region expands like a pregnant humanoid’s would, though it remains hollow. Though the rugs stomach flattens again after this month and it regains its ability to turn inanimate, there is no physical sign of offspring.

Magical scrutiny however will reveal a mass of animating magic coming into being out of the rug’s pussy. This magic, unbound to anything, has roughly twenty for hours to anchor itself in a textile physical object, such as another rug, or it will defuse into the magical weave and be lost. A mass of magic that manages to anchor itself to a rug or similar object becomes a new rug of smothering, its first loyalty owed to its “father”, the man who rendered the original pregnant.

Notes:

Hi all! I have received quite a few comments suggesting I make these big titty monsters into stories. I've even received the very fair insight that I have already dabbled in narrative works without appealing to this audience!

Well Surprise! I have in the past tried my hand at quite a few stories set in Nymphona. I gave up part way through most of them, but thanks to your support I'm willing to revive one or two. All of these stories follow men who fuck humanoid and monstrous women. Some of these stories have underage elements (think oppai loli). I'll list the synopsises here (along with a score out of 5 for how much monster fucking there is and a warning for underage stuff where applicable) for you to vote on.

1. The Story of how Bardson Everdale met his traveling companions and started his adventures. (1/5 monster fucking, mostly humanoids)
2. Coynth Helder, a human knight who discovers he is supernaturally attractive to dragons (4/5 monster fucking, some underage stuff)
3. Etran Torogan, a half orc paladin goes on a quest with his companions to get a young girl to safety, all the while wrestling with his male and orcish instincts to breed (2/5 monster fucking, underage stuff)
4. Yarzen Melana, a drow ranger escapes slavery and survives in the wilds of the Underdark, gathering a wide variety of lovers, humanoid and otherwise (4/5 monster fucking)
5. Murg, a githzari monk raised on the Material Plane trying to discover why his birth family abandoned him, discovers a family of his own making on the way (3/5 monster fucking, some underage)

Chapter 12: Ankheg (Art)

Unseen under the earth, an ankheg can burst out of the ground from nearly anywhere. Horse sized insectoid monstrosities, ankhegs prey on beasts and people alike with sharp, acid dripping jaws.

Burrowing Hunters

With powerful, spade-like forelegs, an ankheg can tunnel at an appreciable speed. Ankhegs don’t often chase down their prey however, instead choosing to use ambush. About six feet under open pasture or shaded woodlands, an ankheg tunnels beneath a probable thoroughfare and waits in silence. With sensitive antennae that she presses to the walls of her tunnel, an ankheg can feel the vibrations in the earth around her able to determine the location and size of creatures walking on the surface.

When a creature of reasonable size like a deer, boar, sheep, cow, or horse gets too close to her ambush spot, the ankheg bursts out of the ground, mandibles splayed wide. The mandibles of an ankheg are as sharp as steel scimitars and backed with the power to chop through a tree trunk. In a single bite, an ankheg may split her prey in twain. Failing that, an ankheg holds onto her prey tightly, backed with the strength to drag them back underground where the ankheg can finish them off with further bites and acidic enzymes that coat her jaws in relative peace.

Tunnelling Horrors

Unlike a natural predator, ankhegs are never satiated. Once an ankheg finds a source of prey, she will hunt and eat until the prey moves away or she has consumed every last one. This obviously makes ankhegs a horrifying pest for shepherds, ranchers, and game wardens alike as ankhegs decimate the herds in their care.

Ankhegs don’t just threaten livelihoods however, but also lives. An ankheg’s vibration sensitive antennae rarely sense the difference between livestock and people and neither do her predatory instincts. In this way, ankhegs can threaten to uproot entire communities unless they are slain. Since an ankheg is normally beyond a rural village’s militia to deal with, it is at this time most will offer a bounty for champions to deal with the monster. A few cows’ worth of gold is usually a fair price for not losing the whole herd and possibly one’s own life.

To fight against, ankhegs are tenacious foes, who do not easily back down, constantly burrowing into and out of the earth to strike combatants from bellow with her mandibles, Her chitinous plates deflecting stray blows that catch her in her brief forays above ground. If pressed, an ankheg can even eject her digestive enzymes in a caustic spray.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ankhegs

For most of the year, mature ankhegs abhor each other as much as other creatures abhor them, steering clear of or fighting any of their kind they come across. In autumn however, female ankhegs begin to cautiously accept each other’s brief presence in order to mate.

Since it largely happens underground and they are so hostile, the exact nature of ankheg reproduction is not widely known. However, it is believed to be quite a violent affair, so violent that it is not uncommon for one of the ankhegs to be killed in the process. The stronger of the two ankhegs, often the sole survivor of their courtship, is the one that gets pregnant. After a few days, the ankheg gives birth to anywhere from six to twelve eggs, each the size of a person’s head, preferably on her mate’s carcass if she managed to kill her. In only around ten days, the eggs hatch as grubs and start eating. To sustain their growth, the mother ankheg brings food to her young for a month or so before the juvenile ankhegs depart.

Young ankhegs often stay with their siblings in a pack for a while, but will be on their own by the time they reach adult size at a year old.

Men to Ankhegs

Being a fairly basal predator, ankhegs seem to lack the ability to tell a humanoid man from a female humanoid until he is fucking her. As such a male adventurer should expect no preferential treatment from ankhegs.

From the man’s perspective, ankhegs present a challenging but unique potential fuck, normally requiring some sort of powerful physical or magical restraint to safely expose her pussy. Though men can of course impregnate ankhegs the thought of being responsible for an ankheg swarm is usually enough to dissuade them from doing so. Instead, men find chances to impregnate livestock to help restore depleted herds, not to mention herders who are grateful for their heroism.

Though rare, male ankhegs do seem to exist. The extent of a male ankheg’s sexual habits are largely unknown, since they seem to view humanoid women as prey rather than potential mates. Male ankhegs do seem to fuck female ankhegs throughout the year however, leading to multiple juvenile ankheg packs tearing the countryside apart.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 13: Azer

In appearance and culture, one will see many similarities between the azers and dwarven women. Both appear to be short, stout humanoids with a passion for craft, a dedication to order, and an indomitable spirit.

All resemblance to dwarves an azer bears however is purely superficial, for the azer race bares no relation or overarching loyalty to dwarfkind. Far from a flesh and blood being, an azer’s true self is a fire elemental, visible as flaming hair and eyes that blaze from her finely crafted body of bronze.

Cold Wars Blazing

Long ago, the azers worked together with the fiery genies known as the efreet to construct for the latter a stronghold of legendary splendour and strength known as the City of Brass. When the legendary project reached its fruition however, and the azers sought their payment, they were betrayed. To keep the secrets of their new city from getting into enemy hands, the efreet turned on their allies, attempting to subjugate the azers into slavery.

However, the azers would not be taken so easily. Though the efreet were individually stronger than most azers and were backed by their nobility’s phenomenal cosmic power, the azers were superior in numbers, tactics, organisation, and arms. Even more vitally, the azer had built the efreet’s main fortress and knew it even better that its occupants did. In this way, the attempted enslavement engulfed both sides in war.

Nowadays, most azers are free from efreeti rule. Aside from occasional proxy raids sponsored by the efreet, open conflict has also dwindled. Still, the azers firmly believe themselves to be at war still. Ever vigilant, azers organise themselves into vast kingdoms, secure in impenetrable strongholds of bronze, basalt, and granite built in a plane sandwiched between the Plane of Fire and Plane of Earth, the Elemental Plane of Magma. Though culture and structure may vary from one kingdom to another, most azers live highly regimented lives, with each azer knowing her function, who she reports to, and her place in society relative to other azers, from the simplest miner to the stronghold’s absolute ruler, the queen.

Living Forges

The Elemental Plane of Magma, the azers’ primary home, also goes by another name, the Fountains of Creation. Though partially inspired by its highly volcanic geography, the realm’s more artistic name also owes its existence partially to the azers. Azer craftsmanship, metalwork especially, is said to be some of the best in the planes, according to some, it even surpasses the works of dwarves and fire giants.

With no need to stop for food or even sleep, the strongholds of the azer ring constantly with the hammers of azers at the forge. For the azer however, a forge is merely a preferred tool for metalwork. With a constant fire blazing within, an azer can heat her body to blazing temperatures, the heat conducting to any metal object she holds also. As such, an azer given a hunk of metal can render it as pliable as clay in her bronze hands, beating and sculpting it into a fine weapon with no tools or workspace.

While this does mean that azer warriors are some of the best armed in the world and azer kingdoms can always find buyers for their goods, it also makes the azer a tempting prospect for enslavement. As well as the efreet, many interplanar beings, like fiends and githyanki seek to capture azers with the intent of putting them to work making weapons and war machines for their own villainous purposes.

Even on the Material Plane, mortal spellcasters sometimes take advantage of the azers’ elemental nature to conjure one to aid either in combat or to lend her expertise in forging magical weapons and armour.

Sex and Sexuality Among Azers

In most cases, azers do not reproduce sexually. Instead, when an azer is told to or feels the need to make more of her kind, she sets about it in the same way she would on receiving any other construction order. On receiving a large hunk of bronze, an azer sets to work forging a it into an intricately detailed azer body. The process is exacting, strenuous, and secret, though there is some room for difference between azer, an azer craftswoman often models her project after herself, creating a “familial resemblance”. Azers also know it is vital for their work to come into fruition that they equip each azer with a pair of breasts and a vagina. However, azers are known to equip themselves with unnecessarily large breasts and asses, adding to their dwarven build. Why they do this beyond simple tradition is unknown.

Once the body is built, the azer smith divides the spirit of elemental fire within herself into two. One of these halves retains the smiths memories and personality in full, while the other has only a basic understanding of the world and a grasp of Ignan, the language of fire elementals. This latter elemental is transferred into the inert azer body by pussy on pussy contact, often resembling scissoring as the new azer comes to life. Once alive, the new azer is normally given metallic clothing and equipment and directed to her new role, joining azer society minutes after birth.

With no need for it, most azers state a lack of interest in sex. Further to this, azers often consider an interest in sex among their kind to be a sign of deviancy to be avoided and shamed. Still, azer are not automatons, an individual azer does have emotions, desires, and curiosities. Sexual interest is thus far more common than azer society lets on. In moments of privacy, many azer masturbate. If two azers grow close enough to discover each other’s deviancy, they may begin a clandestine sexual relationship.

Men to Azers

Being fully elemental beings, azers cannot be male. If an azer built a male body for a portion of her internal fire to inhabit, the body would simply be rejected thanks to the elemental fire’s female nature. Indeed the only males an azer is at all likely to come across on her home plane is the rare male efreet, her kind’s hated enemy.

This sours most azers’ opinions on men. However, an azer is a rational, reasonably intelligent being, so will most of the time need reasons beyond her racial rivalries to dislike men as a whole. Unfortunately, most azers are happy to go out in search of these reasons.

The primary reason most azers will be so opposed to men will be thanks to how proud most are of their sexuality and virility. Many azers claim that a man’s sexual deviancy is contagious, where a man goes, sexually deviant azer skyrocket. However this is unlikely to be due to the man making the azers more sexual, but instead, it is his presence that makes their natural sexual urges so much harder to supress. Convincing an azer to come clean about her own lust, especially in a public setting is nearly impossible, but a man who is persistent, non-judgemental, and most of all subtle may find an azer seeking to quietly jump at the chance to sate her shameful desires on him.

As an azer is a metal being filled with elemental fire, a man may reasonably fear harm from touching or fuck her. However, like with some other fiery elementals, there is a universal quirk of sorts that allows a man to penetrate an azer without being burnt. This however does not make a man fireproof, contact with any area beyond the waist will sear flesh and a resisting azer may still try to incinerate her rapist if they lack magical protection.

An easier but more morally dubious  method of fucking an azer is by magically summoning her. As an elemental, a moderately practiced wizard or druid can call an azer forth under their command. If her summoner tells an azer to fuck a man, then she must. Of course, with an azer being a sentient and free willed being, this is little different to fucking a humanoid woman under magical impediment, an act most feel is akin to rape.

Regardless of how sex comes about, most of a man’s sperm is simply burnt up in the azer’s internal fires. Sometimes however, a man’s sperm will be able to meld with the elemental vitality within an azer’s womb and force her internal fires to divide. Within minutes of this happening, an azer can give birth at will. However, an azer can hold in her pregnancy for up to a year, growing to look more and more heavily pregnant with each passing month. In this time, she will forge her daughter’s body and then give birth into it. If an azer gives birth without a body for her daughter to inhabit, the split internal fire emerges as a common, unintelligent fire elemental and most often leaves.

Chapter 14: Banshee

On dark nights, a traveller my be unfortunate enough to hear plaintive wails echo from the depths of an ancient forest or ruin. The wise will flee such cries, but the unknowing and curious may follow the lamentations until they see an elven maiden in the throws of grief. Only when the creature turns and parts her tangled hair does the banshee lose her disguise and her victim realise their doom.

Beauty’s Curse

In life, a banshee was an elven woman who, like the rest of her kind was blessed with a fey beauty. Most elves believe that their beauty is a gift for the world, or at least others of their kind, as well as themselves. This leads elves to pursue kindness, love, and sexual liberation. Moon elves are most known for this, thanks to their willingness to fuck nearly anyone or anything that shows them interest, but most elves show this sexual openness among their own kind at least.

Sometimes however, an elf does not use her beauty for good, but instead seeks out ways to benefit herself trough her beauty at the expense of others, charming people into acting against their best interests, leading those that adore her on to enjoy their slow heartbreak, and seducing the easily fooled to evil. The elven goddesses do not turn a blind eye to their gift’s misuse however, and retaliate with a dreadful curse.

An elf afflicted with the banshee’s curse begins to loose her ability to feel joy among the living, driving her to a life of miserable isolation. Eventually a the elf’s misery drives her to madness followed by her demise.  Death is only the beginning of the curse however. Bound in her curse, the soul of the villainous elf is twisted into a horrifying visage of bedraggled hair and corrupted flesh, filling all but the staunchest mortals with overwhelming fear.

Rejected by all wholesome divinity, the elf’s soul cannot pass on, forever bound in forlorn grief to the vicinity of her demise. Shunning the sun, for it illuminates her ghastliness, the spirit spends the rest of her eternity repeating the circumstances of her downfall, becoming the ghostly horror most know as a banshee.

Death by Sorrow

Left to her own devices, a banshee unconsciously relives key points of her mortal life, twinged with heightened tragedy and hollow pleasures. Trapped in her despondency, a banshee can never come to terms with her own misdeeds or admit that her selfish actions in life lead to her current predicament. In an attempt to fill the void where their empathy should be, banshees collet treasures and artistic works. Despite this obsession with that which beautifully glitters, a banshee abhors reflective surfaces, for only they can prove to her the monster she has become, thus driving her to deface any mirror she can in a fit of primal rage.

Though normally bound to her own depressing routine, a banshee can be snapped out of it temporarily by a living soul. Thanks to her curse, a banshee may only travel an area within five miles of her mortal death, however, she also knows whenever a living person sets foot in her territory. With a deep jealousy for the living, the detection of a mortal intruder draws the banshee to find them and hunt them down.

For most mortals, the sight of a banshee’s face is too terrible for words, the touch of her hand can drain the life from a warrior, and her incorporeal body makes most weapons all but useless against her. The most renowned and feared aspect of a banshee however is none of these things, it is instead her deadly wail.

Loud and mournful, the wail of a banshee chills the spine and shakes all living creatures that hear it down to the soul. A wordless exclamation of an eternity’s grief, no mortal hears a banshee and goes unscathed. Most mortals simply give up on life, dropping dead where they stand. Resisting the call to die means only to enter a deathly catatonia or take on a major mental scar. Even those that hear the wail only faintly on the wind suffer nightmares and weeks of feeling an impending doom.

Sex and Sexuality Among Banshees

As undead spirits of grief and woe banshees do not intentionally reproduce. In most cases, a banshee simply cannot reproduce, with a banshee’s lifeless, incorporeal womb being unable to accept or inspire the generation of life with another female creature, not that many have tried or survived the attempt.

This doesn’t mean that Banshees are entirely nonsexual creatures however. As a part of their nature, a banshee re-enacts the abuses of her beauty in life. Of course, many actions taking advantage of a living elf’s beauty may be sexual in nature. This can result in a banshee laying on a ruined bedframe night after night, pantomiming sex while calling out for a manipulated lover who is no longer there. A banshee finds no pleasure in these actions, only hollowness and embarrassment.

Some claim that banshees can also arise from elves who wilfully withheld their natural sexuality, denying others the bodily pleasure they apparently deserve. This is a contentious point among those that study monsters and elven theology alike. It is true that the Seldarine, the elven pantheon, are some of the most universally sexual goddesses in existence. However, there is no confirmed record of a banshee arising from an elf who’s only transgression was chastity. On the whole, most elves agree that while their goddesses encourage sexual love, it would be uncharacteristically petty and controlling of them to deliver a divine curse for abstinence, and what is more, no elf owes any creature her body.

Men to Banshees

Despite many male elves being quite beautiful, and not all of them are known to have used their unique beauty for good, an elven man has never been known to suffer the banshee’s curse. Why this would be is unknown. Despite the lack of male banshees, many banshees have histories and natures deeply tied to men.

The fall of an elf that would one day become a banshee may well have been on the path of blindly pursuing a man. Perhaps an elven maiden, on discovering her beauty was not enough to make a man hers and hers alone, turns to darker deeds in an attempt to force a man to stay with her. Perhaps in envy of a man’s attractiveness to other women, an elf attempts to surround herself with an enslaved harem of her own.

In any case, this man-based decent can lead a banshee to become obsessed with men, going so far as to take measures to lure men in and build shrines to their glory or destruction. Regardless of whether she lusts for or despises men however, the result of a man’s arrival is the same. Regardless of how much she craves a man to fuck her, a banshee’s hatred of the living will take over as soon as he appears, leading her to try and kill him, though she may justify it as an attempt to free her new lover’s soul to join her forever.

With difficulty, and normally no small amount of magic, a man may be able to fuck a banshee without costing him his life. For the most part, any sperm shot inside of a banshee is swiftly killed by her corrupting womb, but on rare occasions, the life within a man’s sperm may merge with the undeath in a banshee’s womb to render her pregnant.

A banshee’s pregnancy is the same as a living elf’s, lasting about two years. When the time comes to give birth, the entity born is thankfully not another banshee. The spirit that a banshee births has no corruption to its incorporeal flesh, no horrible trait to its face. For all the world, the offspring of a banshee resembles a ghostly elven or half elven babe. With no curse binding it to its mother’s haunt, the banshee’s child does not stay for long, disappearing from the Material Plane mere minutes after birth. What happens to this spirit is not exactly known, but some hope it provides a link for its mother to the afterlife of Arvandor, giving a chance for the banshee’s redemption.

Chapter 15: Basilisk

Though a basilisk can comfortably inhabit many environments, from forests, to deserts to twisting, labyrinthine caves, the mark of its territory is clear. Statues of woman and beast alike stand frozen in lifelike terror, many with chunks broken from them.

The culprit of these grim displays, the basilisk, is no artisan however. She is but a brutish monstrosity, her mind gifted with only the cunning of a base predator. These animalistic drives direct an eight limed reptilian body, tall enough to look a human in the eye, not that any creature should dare meet that gaze.

Gaze of Stone

Wherever they inhabit, Basilisks are gluttonous predators. The list of foods a basilisk may consume is virtually unending, almost anything a basilisk can get her jaws on is fair game. Though a basilisk has venomous fangs, her hulking body and thick legs make a basilisk far slower than most beings her size. A basilisk more than makes up for this shortcoming with the magic inherent in her eyes.

Simply meeting a basilisk’s gaze is often enough to seal a creature’s fate. Over the course of a few seconds, those that succumb to the magic begin to stiffen. If nothing is done, such a victim will slowly be all but irreversibly turned to porous stone. While avoiding a basilisk’s gaze is sufficient to prevent the magical effect, a being intelligent enough to do so then has to face the alarming task of fending off a hardy, woman-sized, venomous reptile they cannot look at.

For most predators, petrifying their prey would be a net loss, but the basilisk is prepared. With powerful jaws, a basilisk bites pieces off of the statue it creates, swallowing them into a gullet. This organ secretes a mystic fluid that transforms the stone back into digestible flesh.

As one may note, this fluid essentially reverses the magic wrought by the basilisk’s eyes. As a result, the gullet of a basilisk is a prized ingredient in magical oils that may reverse the blight of petrification.

Petrifying Guardians

A wild adult basilisk is virtually ungovernable, in essence, an uncontrollable monster. However, if a basilisk is raised from an egg and trained carefully, she may become an incredibly loyal companion. Taught to avert her gaze from those her mistress wishes to see spared, a tame basilisk is a formidable asset for any able to attain them.

A simple predator, a properly cared for basilisk has neither a natural malice nor valour, and can thus be found under the ownership of all manner of people, from orc warlords and fear inducing tyrants, to brave adventurers, isolated mages, knightly guardians, and even dragons and the like looking for something to watch over their hoard.  

A pet basilisk is not only a powerful defender and ally, but also a symbol of the owner’s reach and power. Wild basilisks do not part with their eggs without a fight, and basilisks famously do not breed well in captivity.

Sex and Sexuality Among Basilisks

Despite all their brutality and fearsome reputation, basilisks are surprisingly devoted parents. At around nine months of age, basilisks find their first an only mate. First meetings between two young basilisks can be quite a violent affair, with biting and clawing all par for the course, but if a pair are satisfied with each other, they form a lifelong bond.

Though almost solitary most of the time, paired basilisks come together about once every four years to mate. thanks to the shear bulk of their combined bodies, basilisks prefer to fuck in pools of water. Sex between basilisks is a long and slow-paced affair. Once sex is complete, both basilisks return to one lair. A few days later, one of the basilisks will lay up to eight small spherical eggs, greenish white in colour.

Once the eggs are laid, both parents watch over them rigorously. By piling mud or sand overtop, the basilisks  control their eggs’ temperature. In a semi-torpid state, neither basilisk leaves the eggs side, not even to eat. On a diet of only whatever dares try to poach their eggs, the basilisks become ravenously aggressive, showing ferocity unmatched ferocity. After enduring anywhere from thirty to fifty days of self-imposed starvation, the basilisks are rewarded by the hatching of their eggs.

A basilisk hatchling is only a few inches long, but grows rapidly with an appetite to match. To support its hunger, the hatchling follows its parents as they hunt, as they continue to care for their young for another six months until they are almost adult size. As the juveniles leave to find their own territory, the parents go their separate ways until they are ready to mate again, four years later.

Men to Basilisks

Though not often occurring, a male basilisk’s influence if he makes it to adulthood is often huge. Like most male creatures, a male basilisk forsakes the monogamy of his kind in favour of fucking any creature he doesn’t petrify and eat, be they basilisks or otherwise.

Thanks to their sheer rarity, the idea of owning a male basilisk as a pet or sexual partner is even more prestigious than owning a female basilisk. This leads many power hungry or foolish women on hearing tell of a basilisk male to send detachments of soldiers or paid adventurers to capture it alive. On the occasions these attempts are actually successful, as opposed to the hunters returning dead, petrified, or pregnant, the end result has rarely been as planned. Like wild adult basilisk, the male proves impossible to train and if monster or would be mistress are not killed, it is often the fate that the roles are reversed, the mistress finds herself as the plaything of the basilisk that stalks her halls, often driven half mad by the repeated rape and constant fear he will turn violent.

On the exceedingly rare occasions that a stolen basilisk egg ends up hatching as a male, the result is more unpredictable. Sometimes, the basilisk suddenly turns on his handler trying to sexually dominate her the moment he feels big enough to overpower her. Other times, the taming effort seems to go off without a hitch. The truth is however that this latter case can only occur if the basilisk’s mistress is willing so sexually serve him with regularity, occasionally bearing his young. In a male basilisk’s eyes, any creature that is not his prey is his future mate and it is only a matter of time and exposure until he acts on that assessment.

While male basilisks cannot breed true in the way a natural male beast can, his seed does have an effect on his offspring. Offspring of a male basilisk sometimes have patches of reptilian scales, sharp, sometimes mildly venomous, teeth, multiple limbs, or a piercing gaze. Among sentient children, there is a notable prevalence of straightforward, sometimes brutish attitudes.

As far as female basilisks are concerned with humanoid men, they are just as much threats or potential meals as any other humanoid. Most basilisks have no intent to betray their mate and must usually be subdued before a man can attempt to fuck them. Even tame basilisks can be uncharacteristically aggressive when an unfamiliar man tries to fuck them. However, with time, a tame basilisk can grow more comfortable with a man up to the point where she happily has sex with him, especially if the man cements himself as her master. Some men have historically made quite a lot of money from such a bond, being able to breed and train basilisks for wealthy clients with minimal personal risk.

Chapter 16: Behir

Her breath crackling with lightning, the behir possesses a unusual talent for appearing out of nowhere, despite her colossal size and radiant blue scales. Her serpentine body slips down tight passageways, while her twelve flexible legs find purchase to climb most surfaces, along walls and even atop ceilings.

With a combination of this stealth and incredible power, behirs eat hunt almost anything in the territory in which they reside, from beasts, people, and monsters. Most of all however, deeply ingrained in all behirs, is a single desire, to kill and consume dragons.

Appetite Unending

As a behir is a relentless and resourceful hunter. Seity is not a state behirs understand, a behir will eat and eat until physically unable to find living things to consume in her territory and then move on to find a new territory to claim. For most creatures, a behir’s mouth is big enough for her to swallow them whole. Only if a creature is literally too big to go down her throat in a single piece does the behir bother to kill it with her claws, lightning breath, and constriction before ripping off bite sized chunks.

Surprisingly for a monster of such a simple goal, behirs are somewhat intelligent, and, if pushed, able to speak, most often in the tongue of dragons, giants, or subterranean species. However, a sentient creature, particularly one the around the size of most humanoids, is more likely to be consumed than engaged in stimulating conversation by a behir, who devour even fellow intelligent beings without a second thought. Little goes through a behir’s mind or enters a behir’s occasional speech, save from the source of her next meal.

Dragon Slaying Monsters

The origin of the ravenous behir most likely traces all the way back into the ancient past, when giants and dragons vied in bloody conflict to determine who would rule the mortal world. To aid in their battles, male giant kings bred with all manner of creatures impregnating them and then influencing the offspring with lost magics so they would be born with the power to fight the draconic foe. Of these creations, the behirs are among the most successful that survive to this day.

Virtually all behirs found today are free from the influence of giants, their ancestors long having escaped their master’s clutches. Indeed, most behirs would kill and eat a giant just as readily as anything else. However, there is one influence the giants placed upon the behirs that is inescapable, even more deeply ingrained than even loyalty to their creators.

Bred to be weapons in the giant’s war, as physical extensions of the hatred they bore for their foe, a behir’s mind is physically rooted in an intense and irrational hatred of dragons. Young or old, metallic or chromatic, it matters not, the slightest hint of any dragon will lead a behir to seek out their old foe and try to destroy them.

Though powerful, a behir’s compulsion does not put her on a suicide mission. If a dragon’s strength suggests an overwhelming likelihood that an assault would lead to the behir’s death, she will not chance it. Still, a behir will not abide a dragon’s presence and will move as far away as she can from a dragon she cannot kill.

Sex and Sexuality Among Behirs

In all her violence and gluttony, thoughts of sex and reproduction rarely cross a behir’s mind. In truth, this is somewhat of a blessing, if behirs bred as frequently as they were able to, many lands would be completely desolate from unchecked consumption. Still, the drive to breed is not entirely foreign to a behir.

When two behirs meet, they most often fight each other until one retreat for a new territory. Sometimes however, if pickings are particularly good, the pair may mate before the stronger drives the weaker away. As one may guess, behirs rarely put much stock in being a talented lover, more concerned with not being bitten or clawed by their mate.

Once pregnant, a behir finds a lair that is inaccessible to creatures without her serpentine climbing ability. A lair established, the behir lays one to four spherical, blue-green eggs. A behir takes a pause in her eating to watch over her eggs in the four weeks it takes for them to hatch. However, this is the extent of a behir’s maternal instincts. Newly hatched behir are chased out of their mother’s territory as soon as they are free of their shells, with mother behirs often stealing the pleasure of consuming said shells from their own offspring.

New-born behirs are fairly tiny, hunting prey like rabbits and bats, but so long as their food intake keeps up, a behir will grow to about forty feet long in only a decade. Most of the time however, behirs die young, slain trying to bite off more they can chew or as a preventative measure from a dragon.

Men to Behirs

Somewhat intelligent, most behirs have a loose understanding that many creatures have distinct opinion on male creatures. However, most behirs don’t care. As far as a behir is concerned, humanoids are food and a humanoid who offers or tries to breed her enjoys no change to his distinction. In any case, there is little to no benefit of a man going to all the trouble of fucking a behir beyond the prestige of being able to say he’s done so.

Unlike many creatures, female behirs are about as dismissive of their own males as those of other species. For a behir, being born a male is a pretty severe detriment. Not only does a behir have to satisfy an intense physical hunger, but as a male, his sexual appetite is often just as unquenchable. This makes a male behir often unsure of what to fuck and what to consume. If this confusion isn’t sorted out quickly a male behir may either starve or try to rape something too powerful for him and die either way. The few male behir that find a balance tend to become forces of consumptive and rapacious destruction.

Like other monstrosities, male behirs cannot impregnate other species with behirs but do have an influence on the offspring’s appearance and behaviour, creatures with a behir father may have a bluish tint to their skin, patches of scales, extra limbs, or small horns, with personality quirks such as greed, independence, and a draw to physical excess.

Chapter 17: Beholder

Found in the midst of dungeons of her own mad creation, a beholder is a being whose alien genius is matched only by her own boundless paranoia.  The basic build of a beholder is a busty, floating, spherical mass, with a single eyed face and ten mystical eyestalks. This however is only the basics of a beholder’s form and from it springs an infinite variety of forms. Herein lies the root of a beholder’s greatest terror.

As befits such a varied race of monsters, there is an array of beholder like creatures that spawn from the true beholder model. Two of the most prevalent beholder kin will be discussed in the following chapters, but this chapter will focus on the beholder proper.

Perfection in Paranoia

From the typical build of a beholder, countless variations occur. A beholder’s skin may be smooth or scaled, her eyestalks may be flexible tentacles or jointed like the legs of a crab. A whole rainbow of colours and patterns may decorate a beholder’s body while her tits may be of all shapes and sizes and her pussy may be located on her underside back, or some other location.

Regardless of a beholder’s form, she will be utterly convinced that she is the most exquisitely built, beautiful, and most intelligent being in existence. Even scars and sudden mutations are rationalised as a greater realisation of her perfect form. Nothing can convince a beholder that she is in any way inferior to any creature.

Conversely, beholders consider any deviation from their own bodily structure and mind to be an aberrant and hideous mistake of the universe which, if she cannot wrest full control over, she will wish to see destroyed. While a beholder knows of anything out in the multiverse not under her control, she cannot sleep soundly, her ten eyestalks alert to danger at all times. In every small moment, a new suspicion arises in a beholder’s mind, a fear that something may be seeking to destroy her out of jealousy for her perfection. As a result, a beholder schemes constantly coming up with plots and counter plots to defeat all varieties of attack. If the greatest humanoid tactician were to look into the totality of the plots a Beholder thinks of in one moment, they would likely go insane. No enemy or tactic is unaccounted for in a beholder’s contingency plans, be they people, monsters, extraplanar beings or, worst of all, another beholder.

Thanks to the shear uniqueness of a beholder, all beholders see others of their kind as grotesquely deformed duplicates of themselves. Such aberrations must be erased for the beholder’s safety and mental wellbeing. As such, a beholder often works to track down and assassinate as many of her own kind as she can, while also staying ever watchful for assassins sent by rivals for her.

Mazes, Magic, and Madness

Being so constantly paranoid, beholders rarely spend all that much time in the public eye. Instead, most beholders swiftly construct for themselves a complicated, secure labyrinth in which to hide away.  As well as being well hidden, a beholder also fills her lair with traps, false passages, and routes that are virtually untraversable without the power of flight.  

Some beholders even overcome their extreme xenophobia enough to take advantage of minions, creatures weak or stupid enough that the beholder feels confident in her ability to easily obliterate any that fall out of line. These servants can operate traps, act as troops to soften up enemies, gather resources and pursue the beholder’s interests outside the lair.

If however a beholder’s enemies get past her traps, navigate her maze, and overcome her minions, she is far from helpless. A beholder’s skin, though often flexible is as impervious to damage as stone from most angles, but most beholders avoid getting hit entirely by staying out of the range of swords and hammers by flying high above and shooting intruders with an eclectic collection of rays shot from her eye stalks. A victim struck by one of a beholder’s eye rays may befall any one of a range of horrendous conditions, from paralysis or petrification, to simply dropping dead or being reduced to a fine grey dust.

Even mighty spellcasters struggle against beholders, for in the line of sight of a beholder’s central eye, all magic ceases to function. This invisible cone of antimagic does interfere with her eye rays, but a beholder can negate its effect by simply closing her central eye.

A beholder is seldom satisfied by her own power however, a beholder’s inner sanctum is often filled with traps and boltholes through which minions can enter to aid their mistress in battle. A beholder will also gather magical artifacts greedily. When prepared for battle, a beholder may have a magic ring around each eye stalk, a magical cape across her back, and a mystic wand or weapon held by her telekinetic eyestalk’s beam.

Sex and Sexuality Among Beholders

Being so completely despising of others of her kind, a beholder has no interest in making more beholders, let alone work with another beholder to do so. Despite this, beholders are not immortal beings, so the question arises as to how new beholders are made.

When a beholder enters her fitful, incomplete sleep, her magically enhanced dreams leak out to warp reality around her. Normally, these changes are small and benign, if a little unnerving, but every so often, a beholder can have more influential dreams. When a beholder dreams of beholders other than herself, a fateful twist in reality can pull this beholder from the first’s imagination into the real world unbidden. Thankfully for the rest of the universe, a beholder spawned in this way is usually wildly different from the beholder who spawned her, leading to a mutual revulsion. This instant enmity leads mother and daughter to try and kill each other on the spot. Thanks to this, most beholder “births” result in no real increase to the beholder population unless one beholder successfully flees the battle.

As befits a race of utterly unique aberrations, beholders can have odd and divergent interests, from dissection, to astronomy, or craft and artistry.  Though collectively opposed to reproduction, a far from insignificant number of beholders include sex among their hobbies. A sexually interested beholder may engage with sex  in a variety of ways, such as magically aided voyeurism to watching unintelligent pet in their rut, to simply forcing captives to fuck one another under threat or the influence of her charm ray.

Some beholders may even engage in sex themselves, though not with other beholders of course. Not bound by the societal norms of most intelligent species, a beholder’s chosen lovers may be anything, from her minion and prisoners they capture, to animals, monsters, elementals, and even mystical contraptions she has had fashioned to pleasure her. A beholder rarely treats her sexual partner with any real affection, since she has sex only to enjoy the physical pleasure it bring her, or to satisfy her own alien curiosity. Regardless of how or why a beholder has sex, she rarely fears any repercussions since no female life has proven capable of getting her pregnant.

Men to Beholders

To beholders, men are often doubly repulsive creatures. Firstly, beholders are an all female species, as a result, all beholders consider femininity to be the correct state of being with men somehow fail to emulate where all other life succeeds. In the beholder’s mind, this failure can be attributed to anything from laziness to malice directed at her specifically.

The more pressing issue however is that men, unlike all female life, are capable of getting a beholder pregnant. Unlike other creatures who can at least find the offer a shapable progeny in an unwilling pregnancy, a pregnant beholder sees her body being forced to build and nourish a deadly enemy beholder that, like a tumour, may kill her on birth if she isn’t prepared to kill it the moment it forces its way out of her vagina at full beholder size.

Understandably from her own twisted perspective, most beholders seek to destroy any man they hear of before he has a chance to try and breed a rival into her. A beholder becomes more determined in this quest the more powerful she sees the man as. As such, creatures like young male dragons and male fiends, rarely see a beholder’s mercy.

Sometimes however, especially with humanoid men a beholder believes she can easily kill if need be, her confidence and curiosity may overcome her paranoia. A beholder may, from the shadows, give a young male adventurer a quest to fuck some specific creatures so that she can watch them through scrying, or else, she might intentionally direct her minions to get knocked up by a man so she may watch the pregnancy unfold. Some men have even become “friends” with a beholder by holding off on trying to fuck her and letting her get her fill of seeing him fuck other women. Eventually however, most of these relationships end by the beholder fearing the man has gotten too powerful or familiar with her and killing him in a pre-emptive strike.

Sometimes, a beholder wants to feel what it is like to fuck a man for herself, she is much more selective. A common choice of partner is to simply attain a male animal such as a stallion or a bull, since any pregnancies will result in baby animals, which a beholder minds less than others of her kind or may even enjoy giving birth to. If a beholder has an interest in a specific non-bestial male, she usually has a grim work around. Many men who have seemingly “seduced” a beholder have realised too late that they have in fact inspired her to kill them so she can have their corpse raised as a sterile but sexually capable undead.

Chapter 18: Death Tyrant

Notes:

Warning: this chapter concerns an undead creature with access to zombies and no moral concerns. I am including this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if you aren't interested in sexual activity including zombies, this chapter might be worth skipping.

Death Tyrant

Deep in mysterious mausoleums of inhuman design, crawling with zombies and all manner of other undead, one may find the skull of a beholder. On finding this strange relic, a living adventurer may well have summoned her doom, as the skull lifts into the air with points of baleful light and spectral breasts winking into existence around it. As the death tyrant awakens, she brings forth the formidable power and mind of a beholder, bolstered by the endless patience, experience, and necromantic power of undeath.

Dreams of Demise

For all her power, a beholder is not immortal. Records vary on how long a beholder may live if spared an untimely demise, from decades to millennia, but what is undeniable is that a beholder will at some point succumb to age, violence, or strange disease.

All beholders fear death, but some begin to dwell on their final, inevitable demise. As a beholder panics over a doom they cannot strategize around or plot against, her dreams fill with visions of her own death. Nightmares plague her mind, of her corpse rotting away until naught but bone is left. A a beholder may inadvertently dream a new rival into existence, so to may she realise her end in her sleep.

Flesh sloughs off the beholder’s body as her unconscious mind flays her alive, blood dries to a fine dust, and organs, her formidable eyes and brain included rot away to nothing in minutes. By the end of the mystic accident, only the beholder’s skull, scoured completely clean, remains. This is not the end that the beholder feared however.

In a matter of course, the beholder awakens. In her eye socket and in ten spots around her head, motes of mystic light appear. In addition, ghostly replicas of the tits and reproductive system she had in life appear in their proper places. Awoken into undeath, a new death tyrant is born.

Grim Lairs, Reanimated Minions

On arising, a death tyrant’s first order of business is normally to slay all of her living minions, if she has any. This rampage may seem arbitrary or even self-destructive, but in the death tyrant’s twisted view it is the most tactically sound decision.  

In place of the field of antimagic projected by a living beholder, a death tyrant beams out a field of death. Wherever the mote that was once a death tyrant’s central eye looks, the living suffers. Wounds refuse to heal, even with magical aid and small plants or animals instantaneously die. What is more, any living creature who is rendered a corpse in a death tyrant’s view rises again moment later as a mindless zombie loyal to her and totally incapable of betrayal. The benefit of undead minions is so clear that death tyrants who had no living followers in life will often go on a killing spree to “recruit” followers from the living.

With servants dealt with, a death tyrant turns to her lair. With millennia to plan and nothing to fear from poison, suffocation, and copious undead hordes, death tyrant lairs can become terrifying death-traps for the living. With barely breathable air, halls packed with zombies, and traps of staggering complexities, many death tyrant lairs may as well be totally unassailable.

Unfortunately, death tyrants are rarely satisfied to stay in their lairs forever. Like beholders, death tyrants see plots against them in all directions. A death tyrant is thus likely to have several plans, centuries in the making, that require her to send detachments of her undead minions, or even head out herself, to achieve, not to mention the occasional foray to bolster her army of the dead.

Sex and Sexuality Among Death Tyrants

For the most part, death tyrants retain a similar outlook on sex to when they were alive. Many attribute the lack of any attributable loss in sexual interest when compared to other undead to a matter of the beholder outlook of sex in and of itself. Since beholders enjoy sex as an academic activity and have no personal reproductive steak in it, the virtual impossibility of a death tyrant falling pregnant does nothing to dampen her experience.

One notable change among death tyrants regarding sex is the frequent shift towards sex with undead creatures. Death tyrants may command two zombies to go through the motions or sex for her own amusement, or have zombies rape the living on their raids instead of just killing them.

It is also possible for a death tyrant to keep a harem of the undead, with zombies milking her spectral breasts while she’s resting or performing other sexual activities with her. Thanks to the complete mindless loyalty, a death tyrant can fuck them in complete confidence they will not turn against her. She may also take the opportunity to perform acts that no sane mortal mind would consider sexual for outright sexual purposes.

Men to Death Tyrants

Like with regular sex, the opinion a death tyrant has on men tends to be the same as when she was a living beholder but with a twist towards the undead. That is to say, most death tyrants have a genocidal loathing of all males but a sizable minority view men with curiosity when they can control them which, in a death tyrants case is easily done by killing them and raising them as a zombie.

Like living beholders, no death tyrant would willingly let a living man fuck her. However, a death tyrant doesn’t have to fear birthing a rival in the same way a beholder would. Normally, the incorporeal womb of a death tyrant is a hostile environment to the sperm of a living man, but even when a man’s sperm overcomes the odds and impregnates her, the death tyrant still has nothing to worry about.

Instead of giving birth to a powerful rival, a pregnant death tyrant gives birth to a mere mote of baleful light, similar to the lights that float in the place of her eyes, and in many ways identical to a will-o’-wisp. This tiny undead creature is loyal to her mother and is, if anything, a boon to her. unfortunately, being surrounded by perfectly loyal undead makes most death tyrants unwilling to risk the harm that could come from allowing a living man close enough to fuck her, much preferring to kill him and raise him as a zombie first.

Chapter 19: Spectator

Visually distinguished from true beholders by a smaller size and only four eye stalks, a spectator is a form of beholder kin summoned into existence by an arcane ritual that requires four eyestalks from a slain beholder. More controllable and tolerant of other beings than a true beholder, spectators are often found guarding an item or a place for her summoner.

Bound to Oversee

Wherefore a spectator comes from is not entirely known. However, once a spectator is summoned it is bound to a period of servitude in relation to a specific object or area. For the most part a summoner has the power to issue only a single irrevocable command to a spectator on her summoning. This command is usually either to bar disallowed individuals from entering a certain area or to keep a specific item safe and unpilfered.

This first command doesn’t directly control a spectator, but if she fails in her initial task while its magic still binds her, the spectator will simply cease to exist. Knowing this, spectators will give their all to protect their assigned place or object until the day the magic that binds them to it expires, typically, this magic lasts one hundred years and a year.

Not even the death or abandonment of a spectator’s summoner frees her from this sentence, so many spectators can be found in the oddest of locations, biding their time until they are free.

A spectator is a naturally adept guard. Like a beholder, a spectator’s vision is keen and even in sleep the eyes on her stalk keep watch. A spectator doesn’t even need to leave her post to nourish herself, able to conjure rather bland food and water at will. Though not quite as formidable as a true beholder’s, a spectator’s eye rays are more than capable of despatching the average thief with beams that paralyse, muddle, frighten, and wound along with her central eye’s ability to turn unsuccessful spells back onto their casters or their allies.

Patience from Madness

In decades of endless guardianship, even a mind as complex as a Spectator’s begins to degrade. As time goes on, a spectator’s odd personality quirks accumulate. A spectator who starts with occasional impressions may eventually assume the full identity of her summoner. A spectator that occasionally lets private thoughts slip may eventually start speaking in two opposing conversations at once, one out loud, the other telepathically.

Despite an increasingly unstable mind most spectators are quite civil with people not actively threatening her assigned task. Though a little eccentric, a spectator can often happily provide information on her surroundings, her summoner, and even what it is she guards. If her task feels threatened however, a spectator will not hesitate to obliterate her conversation partner on the spot.

Eventually however, after one hundred years and a year, a spectator who performs her assigned task diligently is freed. What a spectator does with her freedom is largely down to her, but many choose to remain in site of their enslavement, especially if their summoner is dead or gone and they can claim the place and its treasures as their own. A freed spectator may even seek out other creatures to befriend, a mission that would surprise many familiar with true beholders.

Despite this capacity for kindness, spectators are instilled with the beholder trait of completely unreasonable arrogance. A spectator believes wholeheartedly that she is the greatest being to exist, with no equal to name. Any attempts to change this view can result only in the spectator’s derision or fury. When two spectators meet, their inconsolable egos mean that all decency is put aside as the two try to kill each other.

Sex and Sexuality Among Spectators

With the enmity spectators hold for each other, it should be no surprise that spectators have no interest in breeding each other. Thankfully for a spectator, she also lacks the natural magical power required to accidently create another of her kind the way a true beholder might. As a result, the only way for more spectators to come into existence in normal circumstances is by the ritual mortals perform to conjure them as guardians, a magical feat limited by the incredible challenge involved in attaining beholder eyestalks.

Outside of reproduction, a spectator can more flexible around sex with creatures beyond her own kind, since none of the females of which have been shown to be capable of getting a spectator pregnant.

A spectator may be completely disinterested in sexual activities, in which case nobody, not even her summoner, can compel her to have sex without force. On the other hand, a spectator is not necessarily caste an may even display an active interest in sex.

Often, the psychoses of a spectator can be actively influenced by her sexuality. A spectator, with no mind to social appropriateness, may suddenly request two strangers commence with six immediately, or perform sexual acts upon her. Another spectator may treat certain nonsexual activities as lewd and sexual activities as every day, for example pressing her breasts into the tits of passers by as a greeting, but gasping with lust at every use of the word “it.”

Despite these oddities, most spectators remain fairly decent in their sexual activities and will not intentionally rape or sexually abuse those they interact with.

Men to Spectators

Like beholders, a spectator knows that fucking a man carries the very real risk of getting pregnant with another of her kind who she will inevitably be drawn to fight to the death with on birth. Because of this spectators will avoid having sex with most male creatures as if fighting for their very lives, justifying even lethal force.

However, while generally suspicious, most spectators are not immediately murderous towards any man they meet. Indeed, if a man refrains from trying to fuck her, a spectator may even come to consider the man her friend or become curious to watch her fuck other female creatures.

Like true beholders, a spectator who is interested in fucking a male creature may go in search of an animal that will impregnate her with his own kind once she is free to do so. Most spectators are also pragmatic and of alien enough intellect to see no problem with fucking male undead to take advantage of their sterility, but few spectators would kill a man purely to access his corpse and fewer have access to the required magic to reliably raise and maintain control over a zombie.

Chapter 20: Blight

Though outwardly being little more than plants in humanoid guise, blights are at their core corrupted beings who twist the forests and plains they infest into hostile thickets and brambles for them to stalk with a thirst for blood more characteristic of a ravenous undead than vibrant, living vegetation. This behaviour hints at the blights’ grim origins.

Long in the midst of time, there was a powerful vampire by the name of Gulthias. Her grim deeds were as numerous as they were often bloody, but eventually a hero arose to slay her. As a stake of wood pierced through her heart and the vampire fell into her second death, the heroes thought that their foes evil had been vanquished with her. Not one of them thought once of the weapon of her demise. Soaked in the blood of Gulthias and instilled with her undead vigour, the wood of the deadly stake began to sprout into life. For unseen years, the sprout grew into a great and terrible tree which shed seeds from its branches, seeds that themselves grew into the first blights.

Many vampires have since met the fate of Gulthias, and when the stakes used upon them are improperly disposed of, another Gulthias Tree may grow, becoming the root of a new infestation of blights. Though technically autonomous beings, most blights work together to maintain the health and productivity of their Gulthias Tree and spread the influence of their choking tangles. To achieve their bloodthirsty goals, blights come in a wide variety of forms, each with their own capabilities. The next chapters will cover the three most common cultivars.

Chapter 21: Needle Blight

In the gloom of twisted forests, a needle blight can be mistaken for a quiet, shambling woman. Up close however, her eyeless sockets and woody flesh becomes comes clear, bristling with the coniferous needles that thus earn her name. No sound passes a needle blight’s purely aesthetic lips, yet it is her that calls forth the hunt when fresh blood is found.

Coniferous Carnivores

Like all blights, needle blights crave to sink their roots into the blood of living things. To achieve this, a needle blight relies on a combination of stealth and the plentiful needles that cloak her. Unlike the normal needles on pines and the like, a needle blight has rigid needles, capable of piercing skin, flesh, and even boiled leather if thrown with sufficient force. Therefore, despite her pointed fingers being more than capable of sinking into a person’s veins, a needle blight prefers to shed blood from a distance before closing in to feed.

Like a huntress, the needle blight creeps unseen to get as close to her prey as she can before lining up her ideal shot. In situations where they fight alongside other blights, needle blights prefer to stay back out of the fight, hurling fistfuls of needles at their victims out of the range of axes and swords. Despite this caution, needle blights are among the fastest known blight breeds, so it is normally their duty to chase down foes that choose to flee, peppering their back with lethal needles. Needle blights seldom run out of ammunition, for a needle blight bares many needles and they regrow with supernatural speed.

Alarms of Silence

Unlike many blights, a needle blight’s body is far too regular and inflexible to be mistaken for a mundane plant. As a result, needle blight’s usually rely on the thick foliage of their territory for cover when stalking prey. Thanks to this, needle blight’s most often stick to the parts of their kind’s neat impassable forests that are well established, only heading out in the dead of night. Whether intentionally or not, this puts needle blights in the ideal spot to act as sentinels against those adventurers who delve into their territory with the intention of uprooting the blights at their source.

On first observation however, it may seem that blights lack a fundamental requirement to being a good lookout, the ability to raise the alarm. Like most blights, needle blights are incapable of speaking or making sound, even when they are under attack. Blights are also blind and incapable of sensing each other’s bodily movements more unless they are only a short distance away. However, needle blights have a secondary capability that not only overcomes their silence, but takes advantage of it.

When threatened, a needle blight’s body sheds a tiny, pollen-like spore. This spore is all but undetectable to creatures other than fellow needle blights, but is clear as day to them. Within minutes of a needle blight letting out her spore, it can be received by nearly every needle blight in the forest, causing them to converge on the invader’s location. Other blights know to follow the trail of a needle blight walking with purpose to get a share of the new blood. As a result, to be spotted by a single needle blight is often to be spotted by the whole blighted forest at once.

Sex and Sexuality Among Needle Blights

Since needle blights are spawned forth by their Gulthias Tree, there is no reproductive reason for them to reproduce. However, vampires are one of the few corporeal undead capable of feeling desires beyond the draw to slay the living. When a slain vampire’s thirst for blood is passed on to a collection of blights, their other desires are often passed on too. This can lead blights to collect and horde treasure, to pantomime refinement and etiquette, or sometimes be drawn into having sex.

However, it would be a mistake to consider a needle blight as a companionate or romantic creature. Like a vampire, a needle blight’s lust is tainted by selfishness and a thirst for blood. Much of the time, a horny needle blight will rape her fellow blights, most often twig blights, to relive the frustration of having no better sexual partners.

If a person who happens to match the blight’s attraction enters her sensory range, a needle blight’s inability to talk often causes her to simply charge in and try to take the person by force. If other blights are around, this might lead to the victim being pulled back and forth, eventually being torn apart as the blights care little for their would be lover’s wellbeing, caring only for her body. Even if a person isn’t wrestled apart, a needle blight often grows bored with rape and, if the woman doesn’t manage to fight back and escape beforehand, will proceed to shred her down and consume her blood.

Men to Needle Blights

Being plants spawned on masse from Gulthias Trees, needle blights are a completely female breed. Though capable of independent desires and opinion, most needle blights from the same Gulthias Tree share an opinion on men. Normally, the general mood of a blight population is inherited from the vampire whose destruction prompted their tree’s growth, though stripped of the vampire’s more complex motivations.

A needle blight may therefore hold an instinctual hatred towards men inspired by the vampire’s resentment over being raped or envy of society’s leniency towards a man’s sexual behaviour. This can lead needle blights to target male members of an adventuring group with prejudice, even when doing so is a tactical misstep.

On the other hand, a vampire who craved a living man to fill the emptiness inside of her may in final death create needle blights that share her lust, to the point where needle blights may seek to violently isolate a man from his female companions, and even squabble amongst others of her kind to fuck him. A needle blight that is impregnated by a man in this day will generally birth an infant needle blight after several months, the infant reaching adult size in only eight or so years.

A man should not consider himself safe from harm because a needle blight seems horny. Like with female sexual partners, needle blights lack the intellect, moral inclination, or self control to avoid injuring a sexual partner. Individual needle blights also have little ability to plan for future lust, so once sexually satisfied, she may well try to kill her mate to fulfil her thirst for blood.

Chapter 22: Twig Blight

While at rest, a twig blight resembles a small woody bush, rooted into the ground. However, at the slightest disturbance, twig blights uproot themselves and rend through flesh with splintered wooden claws. Though individually weak, twig blights attack in swarm, fearless to anything short of their tinder-dry bodies being set ablaze.

Eyes of the Gulthias Tree

Thanks to a combination of small size, a natural aptitude for stealth, and the ability to pass for dead bushes and fallen branches, a twig blight is the ideal scout for her forest. The fact that twig blights are also the most plentiful and fastest growing also makes them the best shock troops. Most twig blights instinctively operate on a mix of these behaviours.

Knowing that they are individually weak, twig blights cooperate to gain as many advantages in combat as they can. In bands of varying size, twig blights stalk their prey, staying completely hidden by freezing when observed. Able to sustain herself by absorbing nutrients from the ground, a twig blight can follow a target for hours until the ideal moment to strike occurs.

Most often twig blights wait until other, more powerful blights engage the target, charging in to claw the prey’s unsuspecting back. For most twig blights, the ideal situation is when the prey stops to sleep or make camp at which point they may descend on the sleeping target and tear them apart.

Regardless of how or when the twig blight makes a kill, their omnipresence in blight infested environments ensure that any who enter their territory will have a detachment of twig blights following wherever they may go. Through their connection to their creator, this ensures that the Gulthias tree is aware of most invaders and can strategize against them.

Blight Expansion

Being the least noticeable of the blights, twig blights are often just as comfortable around the periphery of the blight’s territory as within it. As well as ensuring they detect most creatures that enter their territory, these border blights act as pioneers in the blight’s urge to push their borders.

Though blights may slip out of their normal abodes to feed in the dead of night, a colony of blights defines their territory by the extent to which their preferred habitat extends. As twig blights root down, fast growing brambles begin to spread around them. In a matter of days roads, abandoned structures and even slaughtered towns can be overrun by plant life.

At first glance, a blight takeover can seem to be a major victory for nature over civilisation, but the truth is that blights are no guardians of nature, and they look out only for themselves. As the blights expand, the twig blights taking point actively pull up grass and flowers, strip living bark from trees, and otherwise endeavour to leave only the wooden skeletons of the verdant land they invade so that there may only be their preferred plants around them, brambles, toxic weeds, and fellow blights. It is for this reason that druids more often see blights as their enemies and only the exceptionally mad druids will ally with them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Twig Blights

Like all blights, twig blights don’t need to reproduce sexually, therefore, a twig blight’s sexuality is largely determined by the sexual memories of the vampire from who’s stake her Gulthias Tree was grown.

The smallest and weakest of the blights, a twig blight in a sexually active blight colony usually find herself the target of a stronger blight’s sexual frustrations more often than not. When there is no prey to be found, it is not uncommon for a vine or needle blight to pull a twig blight from the ground and casually rape her before tossing her to the side again. Though twig blights usually learn that fighting back only results in injury they also learn to become more evasive to avoid a rapacious blight’s notice and to hang around in groups to reduce individual risk of being raped.

Being so constantly threatened by sexual misuse, twig blights often itch to exert their own rapacious desire on another creature. Occasionally, twig blights will band together to mob and gang rape a lone needle blight, but more often, twig blights target creatures that invade their forest.

As with hunts, twig blights aim to stalk a potential sexual target in groups, ready to pounce on them the moment their guard is down. Generally, the vampire instincts that drive blight sexuality lead twig blights to prefer lone humanoids as toys, treating animals as pure fodder and large groups of people as too much of a risk to be kept alive. Unfortunately, twig blights can’t accurately communicate with each other due to a lack of vocal activities. As a result, it is not uncommon for a pack of twig blights to be ununited in their motivations for attacking a victim. Unable to plan in advance whether they want to unleash their sexual frustrations or kill the intruder and feast on her blood, most twig blight swarms do both, simultaneously.

Men to Twig Blights

The opinion of a twig blight on men is largely determined by the Gulthias Tree that spawned her. regardless of whether it is to fuck or destroy him, twig blights tend to follow a man with preference to his female companions, often working to shift foliage and separate him.

Even when a twig blight’s intentions with a man are sexual, it is rarely wise for a man to let her have her own way. When able to, a horny twig blight will usually aim to surround. The man with enough of her kind to ensure they can consistently overpower him to fuck. though twig blights are normally united enough on their intents to not tear a man apart mid coitus, they are also poor slave owners, without the wits to even consider feeding their captive, likely leading to the man’s demise, either from neglect or by his jailer’s overreaction to an escape attempt.

Fucking a twig blight safely usually requires turning the tables on her. if a twig blight can be successfully isolated and outnumbered, she is generally too small and weak to stop a man from grabbing and fucking her. a twig blight impregnated by a man gives birth to seeds that grow into yet more twig blights. If planted away from blight territory however, these blights will lack a connection to the evil Gulthias Trees and be quite easily tamed by druids and the like for potentially benevolent purposes.

Chapter 23: Vine Blight

While the foliage that blights encourage are known to choke the life out of ecosystems, only one type of blight takes choking into her own hands. Lounging among thickets in a loose tangle, picking a vine blight out from the regular vines that grow around her is a virtually impossible endeavour. Only when a vine blight moves does her vaguely humanoid shape coalesce and her malice manifest.

Strangling Creepers

Of all the most common blight cultivars, vine blights are arguably the strongest, the vines and lianas that form her body forming structures like muscles and sinew, able to restrain a struggling forester and drag her into the canopy with relative ease, crushing her windpipe out of the reach of saviours.

At the same time however, vine blights are undoubtably the slowest of their kind, shambling along in an uncontrolled mess of tendrils which barely manages forward motion. Because of this, prey that notices a vine blight outside of her formidable reach may think themselves safe from her assault.

Unfortunately, vine blights are the masters of ambush. Indistinguishable from a regular mess of vines at rest, a vine blight can hide in plain sight pretty much anywhere in her native range. Vine blights don’t just wait for prey to fall into their lap however. With a fragment of tactical knowledge. Vine blights herd victims into striking range.

Most commonly, vine blights use other, faster blights to drive victims towards them, but they are also creative enough to collect treasure and retain a hostage to draw in more prey. Once prey is close a vine blight may turn the tables on her usually swift prey by taking direct control of the plant life around her. on her command, the roots and vines in a vine blight’s vicinity can come to life, growing and sprouting on the ground to hinder any non-blight it can find.

Voice of the Gulthias Tree

Though most inherit a basic understanding of language from their vampiric progenitor, blights are a silent breed. Even when unleashing the bloodiest of carnage or reeling from devastating wounds, virtually all blights are incapable of making a sound. Most of the time, vine blights appear to be the same, but unlike all the others, this silence is a choice.

When she feels the need to, a vine blight can speak. This voice, normally a whispering, fragmented echo of the vampire whose stake grew into her Gulthias Tree, is not truly generated in the same way a person or even a vampire would talk, since vine blights lack lungs or vocal cords. It is instead a mystical, illusory projection of sound.

Despite being able to talk, vine blights are not much for conversation. The most common use of a vine blight’s voice is to give short, simple orders to other blights. Vine blights will also sometimes attempt to lure the unwary into her vines by calling for help while hidden among branches or brambles.

When one is not a blight, it is difficult to get anything out of a vine blight beyond simple deception and threats. Though able to talk like a complex being a vine blight is a being with only one simple desire, blood. Only when an enemy seems overwhelming and her own demise seems probable does a vine blight consider parleying with the foe and brokering peace.

Sex and Sexuality Among Vine Blights

Often considered the closest to the original vampire in their nature, vine blights cleave the closest to the Gulthias Tree for their stance on sexuality. While other blights may deviate, being more or less sexual, than the average, vine blights tend to not only keep to their progenitor’s opinions but also enforce those views on the other blights.

Where the vine blights are more prudish, they will actively police their fellow blights, weeding out sexual behaviour to either punish or slay the perpetrators. On the other end of the scale, vine blights with a more positive view on sex take the lead by capturing other blights in their vines to haul up and sexually use. This intends to create a culture where the strong are free to fuck the weak, perpetuating down to that the needle blights exert their frustrations on twig blights and twig blights gang up to get their rapacious revenge.

When it comes to non-blights, a vine blight seems to choose whether or not to rape them depending on how long it has been since she last fed. A hungry blight will simply slay a victim for their blood. With a bit more planning skills than other blights, vine blights tend to keep victims tied up to use again and again, until she gets bored, at which point, they are thrown to the other blights, either to be eaten or used some more.

Men to Vine Blights

Like with sex in general, most vine blights align to their Gulthias Tree’s opinion on men with fanatical accuracy. Whether they loathe or are obsessed with men however, a vine blight normally demands to lead the charge when hunting a confirmed man down. This is either to ensure the man is destroyed, or to ensure none of her fellow blights damage the man before she can get at them.

Vine blights who are interested in fucking men usually only do so willingly once they feel they have the man successfully imprisoned. While vine blights are unlikely to kill a man out of boredom or let him die of starvation, she rarely cares about his wellbeing beyond his ability to fuck. Pregnant vine blights, like other blights, produce seeds that grow into others of their kind.

Another interesting wrinkle in vine blight physiology is the fact that vine blights are one of the only plants capable of being male, all thanks to their origins. Like those used on female vampires, stakes that kill a male vampire can hold on to his bloodthirsty essence and grow into a Gulthias Tree. When a “male” Gultias Tree grows, most of the blights it creates are still female, being independent servants made to fulfil its needs. However, a Gulthias tree can have up to two male vine blights at a time.

While most blights are independent but loyal servants of their tree, male vine blights are directly under the tree’s control, being more akin to extensions of the tree’s body. So possessed, male vine blights are often gifted with somewhat greater intelligence than their contemporary with advanced understanding of organisation. Thankfully most male vine blights direct these abilities inwards, converting the blights around them into a cult of sexual worship and obedience. Thanks to this reverence, most blights that serve a male Gulthias Tree see other men as dangerous usurpers of their beloved overlord. Though a male vine blight usually impregnates his female blights in preference to other targets, it is not unheard of for blights to bring prisoners for their ruler to breed. The resultant offspring is similar to a dhampir, the offspring of a mortal and a vampire, but with an affinity for plant related magics.

Chapter 24: Bugbear

Often behaving more akin to ravenous beasts than a unified people, bugbears are large, animalistic, long-limbed brutes who wield whatever weaponry they can take or bash together in the wilderness for surprise raids or hunts for meat and riches. While alarming to come across on their own or in a pack, they can be terrifying shock troops for those villains that can offer them food and loot while also threatening their elimination for disobedience. Most often, this ruler takes the form of their more organised hobgoblin cousins.

Idle Marauders

The average bugbear stands hunched at over six feet in hight, standing up to two feet taller at full hight. A bugbear’s gangly limbs are both strong and dexterous, just as ready to lace her fingers around an unsuspecting neck as cave in a skull with a spiked club. Though bugbears are replete with combat advantages, a bugbear is loathe to engage in anything even slightly resembling a “fair” fight. Ideally, a bugbear’s opponent will be weak, outnumbered, and taken by surprise.

Despite their considerable size, bugbears are remarkably stealthy. With virtually silent footsteps and an almost preternatural ability to slip behind the most inconsequential pieces of cover, a bugbear can sneak up on her prey and strike unseen with overwhelming power. Once in combat however, bugbears are violent to the point of near insanity, revelling in bloodshed and domination of the weak.

Though they enjoy it, a bugbear rarely engages in violence for purely violence’s sake. Most bugbear ambushes have an immediate reason to their enactment, even if that reason is little more than petty banditry or a desire to gnaw the flesh from their victims’ bones. The rest of the time, bugbears are in fact rather unmotivated creatures. Without immediate hunger or greed to drive her, a bugbear would much rather laze around in her cave or other haunt, rutting and sleeping until the time comes for the pack’s next raid.

Disciples of Hruggek

Despite appearances, bugbears are part of a group of peoples known as goblinoids, along with the more regimented hobgoblins and the common goblins. Though bugbears normally stick to themselves, a lone bugbear may bully her way to dominate a tribe of goblins, and hobgoblins may be able to bribe a gang of bugbears into following their orders.

The reason why bugbears are so much larger and more bestial than their supposed cousins is because the relation between the goblinoids is not truly one of distant family, but of mutual domination. 

Long ago, in the midst of time, a fearsome goddess by the name of Maglubiyet tore her way through the ranks of several pantheons, slaying multiple goddesses and pressing the remanets into fealty to her. With their deities slain and enslaved, the bugbears were joined with the other goblinoids, their souls forever marked as the property of their new divine matriarch.

Of the scant goddesses among the bugbear’s old pantheon to survive under Maglubiyet, the most often admired by her worshipers is Hruggek. A goddess of violence and carnage, Hruggek eternally ambushes and pulverises her foes in an endless war, waged by her mistress Maglubiyet on Acheron, the Infinite Battlefield of the Outer Planes.

Mortal bugbears believe that their souls will get a chance to fight in this great battle when they die, but only those that show the greatest brutality and cunning will get the chance to fight at their deity’s side. Those bugbears that cleave closest to their goddess’ ideals, so called Hearts of Hruggek, are thought to burn with Hruggek’s favour, letting them shrug off threats to the body and mind alike.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bugbears

In most cases, bugbears have little concept of love, loyalty, or lasting bonds. A bugbear fights alongside her bugbear allies because they help her plunder greater riches or bring down bigger prey, but she will not stop to aid a straggler and will betray her pack without a second thought to gain personal advantages or save her own hide.

Thanks to this outlook, a bugbear typically fucks for selfish reasons, namely, to satisfy an animalistic drive for sexual pleasure and an urge to show dominance. Because of these twin drives and mutual selfishness, bugbear sex is an often brutal affair, with dominant bugbears grabbing weaker ones to fuck whenever they feel like it, with the occasional result of the weaker bugbear getting pregnant for seven or so months. Though most bugbear mothers have the instincts to nurse and raise their offspring through infancy, most bugbears experience a sudden and brutal abandonment the moment they can walk and eat solid food, being expected to make themselves useful or starve well before adulthood at around sixteen years.

Thanks to the power needed to make another of their kind submit to pregnancy, it is considered a sign of a bugbear’s strength and brutality to have many daughters by other bugbears in the pack. While not nearly as impressive as dominating another bugbear, bugbears may exact sexual domination on other peoples to satisfy her lust and sense of superiority. Most commonly, these unfortunate targets are goblins, the bugbear’s weaker relative she cows into a position of servitude, to the point of sexually pleasing her and beyond. Sometimes however a bugbear will kidnap victims from her raids to hold for ransom and find some pleasure while they wait in violating their captured hostage.

Men to Bugbears

While bugbear’s do not often have strong opinions on men in general compared to others of the man’s kind, they do often recognise that men are often uniquely motivated. While a bugbear is unlikely to judge a man for his increased sexual proclivities, indeed she will likely spend much of her waking hours fucking some packmate or another, the man’s natural dominance in this field often rubs a bugbear up the wrong way, making her cautious to accept sexual forays with a man.

Still, once a man actually begins to fuck her, bugbears quickly lets go of any shame they felt from losing to him and give themselves entirely to feeling his cock pump into her and fill her up with sperm. From this swiftness to discard personal motivations for pleasure, a bugbear can easily fall to addiction to a man’s sexual prowess. In many cases, a man has been able to disassemble a bugbear’s pack by fucking a few well-chosen members. Alternatively, men of a more villainous persuasion have found regularly bred bugbears to be oddly loyal enforcers of their twisted will.

As for bugbears themselves, they, like all humanoids, do on occasion produce male offspring, though only very rarely. These male bugbears are often feared and loathed just as much by their own kind as by others, for female bugbears fear a male’s potential to dominate them. This fear is often justified, for male bugbears are often doubly driven to dominate, out of a combination of both violence and lust. If he survives to full strength, a male bugbear will often swiftly come to fuck and brawl his way to lead a pack and then turn his attention outward, driving his pack to pillage yet more female life for him to dominate and wildly breed.

Chapter 25: Bulette

From its armoured shell, to its long burrowing claws and enormous jaws, two things are clear to whoever is unfortunate to set eyes on a bulette. Firstly, a bulette is clearly a created creature, not the product of the natural world. Secondly, whoever made the first bulettes was clearly insane and was, in an act of mercy to the rest of the cosmos, most likely slain by their creations before they could attempt to make anything worse.

History has long forgotten how exactly bulettes were first made. Many point to the ever-popular image of a mad wizard flagrantly abusing the arcane arts in an attempt to crossbreed moles and sharks. Others imagine a deranged man, demon-possessed, breeding corrupted offspring into snapping turtles and armadillos. Whatever the true origins, the bullette is now a force of destruction all her own, rampaging under the ground until such a time comes for her to pop out of nowhere.

Death from Bellow and Above

A bulette lives to feed. The appetites of a bulette are incredibly diverse, ranging from wild game and livestock, to predators and fellow monstrous creatures like ankhegs and owlbears. For whatever reason, bulettes tend to spit out the ragged carcasses of dwarves and elves after mauling them to death, refusing to eat them. This however does not equate to a distaste for sentient life however, for a bulette will gladly devour all manner of other humanoids, halflings especially.

Being big and bulky, bulettes mask their approach in the very ground bellow their prey’s feet. Through a mechanism still not fully understood, a bulette can sense the vibrations given off by creatures walking on the surface, and with stout claws, a bulette can burrow as fast as she can run. In this way, a bulette can burst from underneath an unsuspecting creature and rend them in her disproportionately large jaws.

On the occasion the first bite does not kill the prey outright, it is rare for the bulette to retreat underground for another try. Confident in her stone-hard carapace, a bullette fights her potential prey to the last, seemingly having no instinct to escape combat unless her prey flies high into the air, getting truly out of reach. Faced with additional bites from her devastating jaws, it is hardly surprising when a bulette’s chosen prey tries to run. Unfortunately, a bulette is far faster and more agile than her great mass belies. A bulette can close the distance on all but the swiftest prey, and often chooses to do so in a dramatic manner. Even from a standing start, a bulette can leap triple her body length toward her prey. When she lands, it is claws first with the full weight of her body behind them. If the target is not utterly crushed and shredded, they are most often pinned under her armoured breasts, in prime reach of her maw.

Riders of Desecrated Earth

For all intents and purposes, attempting to tame a bulette  is an impossible, needless to say very lethal, task to attempt. Bulettes are driven to do little more than kill so they can eat and eat so that they can continue killing. Yet, heroes and upstanding soldiery alike have suffered the grave misfortune of finding themselves beset upon by warriors who ride on the back of a bulette.

The force that enables these villainous cronies to take the indomitable bulette as their steed seems to be tied to the forces by which they themselves are bound. Most of these bulette riders owe their allegiance to fell powers with a alignment towards elemental earth, such as wicked goddesses of the deep underground, and the most powerful of the slave mongering dao. The most prolific tamer of bulettes however seems to be Ogrémoch, Elemental Princess of Evil Earth.

Among the princess’ wicked followers, the Cult of Black Earth, only a select cadre are gifted with a bulette’s loyalty. So called burrowsharks seem to have a mystical connection that makes their minds and senses one with their steed’s. How Ogrémoch has such control over the wild spirits of bulettes is unclear. Her power, like many of the beings able to mysteriously dominate the bulettes, extends over all evil elementals that align with elemental earth. Though bulettes burrow with great skill and spend a great deal of time surrounded by earth, they are flesh and blood monstrosities, not decendants from the elemental plane. Some posit that something in Ogrémoch’s drive to claim and sunder all she can appeals to the burrowing predators, earning their instinctual allegiance.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bulettes

The mating rituals of the bulette is as complicated as it is violent. In response to unknown internal or external occurrences, a bulette will augment her normal feeding to no longer digest the bones of her prey, instead grinding them up in an internal gizzard over a period of weeks, the bulette will expel the resultant bone powder into a shallow depression in or deep under the ground.

Usually their own worst enemies, a bulette who finds another of her kind in such a bone dust bowl may refrain from immediately trying to consume them so long as their pit shows evidence of sufficient kills to be worth mating with. Even when mutual interest is achieved, sex between belettes is a bloody affair. It is not uncommon for one bulette to be killed and eaten by her mate in the undertaking. The surviving bulettes will be pregnant with one or two eggs. If both are still alive, the fighting will continue until one is driven from the pit, which both seem driven to lay in a few days later even though they can’t stand each other’s presence. The thought is that bulette eggs may absorb additional nutriment from the powdered bones they are buried in. Bulettes abandon their eggs, but these eggs are thick shelled and wickedly spined, allowing most to survive until hatching a few weeks later, ready to strike out into the wild.

Men to Bulettes

To a bulette’s seismic sensitivity, there is little diference between a man and a female instance of her kind. Even when she comes to the surface and can use her eyes and other senses, a man is generally little more than prey in her view.

Likewise, men are often frustrated by bulettes as potential sexual partners. As should go without saying, a man will normally require a band of allies to battle a bulette into a position where she can be fucked since little besides exhaustion and restraints can be used to overcome a bulette’s deadly aggression. Even if one can fuck a bulette there is an additional problem for those men of a more public spirited bent. As dangerous, ravenous predators, bulettes anywhere near civilisation tend to hunt an area until the local populous take flight or are destroyed. As such, simply letting a bulette go after fucking her should be unconscionable to a decent man unless she is located far away from people who can suffer harm. This is doubly true if a man impregnates a bulette.

The rare male bulette is a raging combination of his kind’s predatory appetite and male lust. Generally, anything that isn’t immediately killed by a male bulette’s initial bite is pinned and fucked violently, often to impregnation. Fatherhood has little bearing on a male bulette’s sensibilities however, since there are records of male bulettes proceeding to hunt down and kill woman and beasts they impregnated previously. If a woman is impregnated by a bulette and survives, she will often birth a rather strong, hardy instance of her kind. It is not unusual for these offspring to go on to become self-sufficient loners with poorer social graces than their peers. Still, these bulette-born women tend to be fairly unstoppable in their goals, powering through obstacles in a rather indelicate manner.

Chapter 26: Bullywug

Out in dark swamps and twisted bayous, the bullywugs build their petty kingdoms. As a people, bullywugs can be best described as upright, humanoid toads or frogs. Generally tall enough to look a human woman in the eye, a bullywug has webbed digits and moist skin in shades of grey, green, and brown that suit a life of hiding in the marsh.

Despite a life of wallowing in the mud, bullywugs crave to be superior. Banding together, bullywugs rob, kidnap, and torment anyone they think they can get away with. When the tide turns against them, a bullywug flees in search of greater numbers. Among themselves, a bullywug’s life is awash with pantomimed intrigue and long, meaningless titles.

Despoilers of Prizes

Though the average bullywug is out purely for herself and is thus capable of performing despicably selfish acts without remorse, most understand that they stand little chance against the dangers of the swamp by themselves. As such, bullywugs form societies together. In an effort to make themselves look more respectable, bullywugs often make their societal structure intentionally complex, sometimes excessively so.

Though every so-called kingdom is unique, the hierarchy is normally based on a large rabble of humble peons, kept in line by the soldiery, who may be elevated as knights to an upper class of selected nobles who form the court of an all powerful, often oversized, queen. Advancement in this system is a complicated path of currying favour, scrabbling at the feet of ones superiors in the hopes that title will be attained. A bullywug may even be tempted to kill her own in the name of faster advancement, but there are other expeditious paths to elevation with far less risk of execution for murder.

Among the elites of bullywug society, fine clothes, jewellery, objects with flashy magical power and even simple necklaces of gold coins all play into the illusion of magnificence they all seek to replicate. Unfortunately, new treasures get broken in petulant squabbles, baubles and coins are scattered to the swamp, and fine silks loose their lustre after weeks of being dragged through the mud. The nobles thus need always more. Indulging the higher ups is thus an ideal way to earn their favour for elevation.

Therefore, peons and soldiers take up their crude arms, mostly stone tipped spears and wooden shields, call forth amphibian allies, in the form of giant frogs and toads, and go raiding. Though normally aiming for the weak and vulnerable, bullywugs know how adventurers can accumulate magical artifacts and other great treasures, and will sometimes choose to take the risk and ambush them.

Boastful Captors

Though mostly interested in taking objects rather than people on their raids, matters change significantly when an active intruder is concerned. Able to communicate with frogs and toads of all kinds and often on good terms with them, even the smallest frog’s croak can be the first in a chain of alarms that call the bullywug soldiery to arms against an intruder.

In an effort to minimise personal risk, a bullywug will hide in the mud and thickets to stalk humanoids who enter her domain, waiting for the numbers to arrive for the invaders to be overwhelmed. When fighting an invader however, bullywugs rarely go for the kill, instead using wooden clubs along with ropes and nets made of vines to subdue them.

Once caught, prisoners can be expected to be immediately dragged before the bullywugs’ aristocracy. This is because, as much as bullywugs go through the motions of superiority, what they crave most is external validation of it. A prisoner who offers copious bribes and flattery to their captors may earn their release, but not before some intense theatrics.

Bullywugs put on a show of strength and magnificence to their prisoners, threatening them with their best spearmen, flaunting the greatest of their stolen booty, or perhaps even attempting to emulate cultural facets of nobility like banquets and galas in an unusually soggy reflection of true refinement. A captive is best advised to respond with appropriate respect and awe, for a bullywug’s ego is a fragile thing and the consequence of bruising it can be as grievous as instantaneous execution.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bullywugs

Breeding among bullywugs is a fairly straightforward affair. The average bullywug peon or soldier has one or two of her kind she tolerates or maybe even trusts, with whom she will breed once a year or so. A few days later, a pregnant bullywug will need to lay a clutch of soft, jelly-like eggs, often in a clutch of fifty or so.

For the lower classes the only places to lay is in the swamp, where many bullywug eggs will be consumed by marsh dwelling creatures. About a week after laying large tadpoles hatch, having to survive a further six to eight weeks in the treacherous waters until they emerge as juvenile bullywargs. Even though they are weaker than adults, juvenile bullywugs are offered no assistance growing up and must struggle alone for their place in society. The stronger and more aggressive of the clutch tend to bully their way into the soldiery while the others join the rabble of peons.

Seeking some benefit to their elevated position, bullywugs of the noble castes tend to pick wives for themselves out of the most fertile and beautiful of the lower castes, with the queen taking consorts from the nobility. Generally, beauty among bullywugs is synonymous with size, be it hight, bust, musculature, or shear corpulent girth. Thanks to the efforts of the lower classes, noble bullywugs have the time to have sex for pleasure as well as for reproduction. It is not uncommon for a bullywug settlement to have lewd dancers and other erotic services in place for the upper class. Thanks to divergent beauty standards, the purpose of these areas is often unrecognisable for outsiders of other races.

Like the lower classes, noble bullywugs, or more often their concubines, must lay eggs into water. Instead of throwing their eggs to the whims of the swamp however, noble bullywugs have special spawning ponds built or cordoned off. These smaller bodies of water are guarded against predators by knights and soldiers and when the tadpoles hatch food is dropped into the pond for them by the peon class.

Things are not perfectly smooth sailing for noble sires however. In such constrained conditions, fights between tadpoles over food can become deadly and once the tadpoles emerge onto land, they enter a whole new battle. Despite being the noble’s flesh and blood, being born from the noble caste doesn’t guarantee a spot in the nobility. A noble daughter represents a large investment for her parents, one they will only make if she shows ingenuity, poise, and drive. Failure in any of these areas is grounds for summary abandonment. It is not unusual for a whole generation of bullywug noble scions to be disowned.

Men to Bullywugs

Perhaps because of how low their effort is in raising children compared to other races, bullywugs are often thrilled to meet men, finding their uniqueness fascinating and their sexual proficiency alluring. Though this means men have quite a bit of clout in swaying the feelings of a bullywug by offering sexual reprieve, it also makes them much more tempting targets for kidnap.

For all the treasures, dresses, and magical boons a bullywug may amass, a male consort proves in her mind that she is the most superior. After all, even the nobility of “civilised” races struggle to keep such a proficient sexual partner around. As a result of his precious rarity, a bullywug may seek to hide her captured man from other nobles, for if a man’s capture becomes public knowledge, he will most likely be wrested from one noble to the other until eventually coming into the possession of the queen. This is not the end however, many bullywugs are willing to challenge their precarious social hierarchy in order to get a turn fucking a man. As such, a bullywug queen who does not allow some level of sharing will likely have her kingdom collapse over her prince consort.

If things stabilise, a man could well live in relative comfort, becoming akin to the bullywug king. In truth however he will pe a prisoner until he escapes or dies. No amount of treasure of flattery can willingly separate a bullywug from her man. However, if a man plays along for long enough, bullywugs may delude themselves into believing that the man stays with them of his own free will, thus requiring a less stringent guard.

Rare male bullywugs are likewise imprisoned in the lap of luxury by their kind. However, when a male bullywug escapes, the shift from a society of woman desperate to sexually serve him to other races’ fear and disgust at his attempts to rape them is often traumatising enough to send them back to their tribe. This brief excursion often instils in the burgeoning bullywug king a desire for varied lovers. The bullywug thus commands the soldiers and peons at his command to capture a menagerie of bestial, monstrous, and humanoid concubines for him to fuck.

Chapter 27: Cambion

Among most fiends, the sole saving grace is that their sheer otherness bars them from escaping the Lower Planes save by being directly summoned or finding a rare portal that can be physically stepped through. Unfortunately, there is a slight work around.

Born of the unholy sexual union of a mortal and a mighty denizen of the Lower Planes, be it a devil from the Nine Hells, a demon from the Abyss, or some other dreadful fiend, a cambion is fiendish vigour and will, conducted through flesh of the Material Plane. Born from the start to be a force for evil, a cambion slips between the planes to rain destruction on the innocent and twist corruptible souls.

Birth of Evil

Unlike other bloodlines that have intermixed with the blood of fiends, such as tieflings, who may have an alarming form and capabilities but are ultimately in possession of a mortal’s free mind and soul, the might of a cambion’s fiendish sire is so great as to overwhelm the potential for spirit and conscience before she is even born. From the moment of her birth, a cambion is a fiend through and through, her human lineage being nothing more than a link that allows her to phase through the planes in a way no full-blooded fiends can hope to achieve unaided.

Though thankfully unable to bring other fiends along with her as she travels to and from the Material Plane, even a young cambion holds the potential to spread misery and terror. Starting small, a young cambion swiftly learns how to magically disguise her more alarming features, horns, leathery wings, forked tails, unnatural skin tones, and the like, to more subtly engage in minor evils, the killing of pets or encouraging local youths to partake in acts of increasing misbehaviour and deviance.

Growing confident in her silver tongue and supernatural power, a cambion will progress to greater crimes. When the opportunity arises, a cambion will indulge in torture and cold-blooded murder. From the pliable souls of her youth, a cambion constructs a marauding gang or diabolical cult to spread her evil far and wide.

Thanks to her fiendish lineage, a cambion is usually at the peak of humanoid capability. Strong, agile, and resilient, a cambion in combat combines supernatural powers like pyrokinesis with a natural attraction to the ways of humanoid violence. Just as they are capable warriors however, a cambion is also a skilled manipulator, able to sway most unaware mortals by simply saying what they want to hear. If words alone are ineffective, a cambion may even call upon her natural dark magics and attempt to subdue a mortal’s free will for a while.

Dark Lineages

Seeing as the term cambion can describe the offspring of a mortal and nearly any sufficiently powerful fiend, it is unsurprising that cambions can have a wide variety of forms depending on the type of fiend that sired them. Many experts in fiend lore can trace a cambion back to a probable parent simply by observing her true form and her behaviour. The most obvious division is the plane from which her supernatural parent hails, those of infernal origin tend to be more so regimented and sly in their wickedness, while most abyssal cambions have a marked preference for violence and instability.

While some cambions, especially those born unexpectedly, are simply allowed to roam free, spreading evil as comes naturally, most cambions are sired with intention and are eventually called upon by their parent to serve them. Though usually compelled to serve out of awe and fear, a cambion also expects to receive some measure of power in the Lower Planes. Among devils, a cambion will have a rank that they can see elevated in the face of success and dropped in the event of failure. In the abyss, things are simpler, a cambion may direct a screaming demonic horde as large as she can physically control with her own power and intimidation.

Perhaps one of the most prolific creators of cambions is Graz’zt, a demon lord of personal pleasure and excess. Graz’zt is known to fuck many mortals, particularly those bound in fiendish pacts, with impregnation being an afterthought for her. Still, Graz’zt’s forays ensure that she is gifted with many cambion agents all over the Material and Lower Planes. Identified by some combination of onyx black skin, six fingered hands, cloven hooves, and an unearthly beauty, the daughters of Graz’zt work to spread chaos in their patter’s name.

Sex and Sexuality Among Cambions

Being creatures of mortal flesh, lust is far from a foreign emotion to cambions, indeed, most cambions feel it keenly throughout their entire lives. However, with minds so dominated by evil, the pleasures cambions draw from sex disturb most mortals. In the place of love and mutual pleasure, a cambion prefers her partners to feel fear as they serve her.

At the same time however, a cambion is often expected to engage in sexual service of greater fiends as well, especially her parent. These acts are done out of obligation or fear of destruction rather than personal enjoyment and serve to make the cambion all the hungrier for a weaker victim to rape.

Cambions especially don’t enjoy applying sexual services to beings they consider their lesser, which practically includes all mortal life. Still, most cambions are pragmatic enough to feign affection or sexual adoration when it comes in the pursuit of a goal, most often, the corruption of a mortal soul.

Like most fiends, a cambion can neither impregnate nor get pregnant by other fiends. On the other hand, a cambion can successfully breed with mortals in an act that mirrors their own conception. However, no matter how much power a cambion accrues, her fiendish nature is forever tainted by mortal blood. As such, a cambion cannot birth or sire another cambion by fucking a mortal, for the fiend in her becomes overly diluted, resulting in the birth of a mortal tiefling (or the abyssal equivalent). Though often possessed of a range of fiendish characteristics and powers, a tiefling is not bound to evil the way a cambion is, their soul being free to decide their own moral path. As such, a cambion with use for mortal offspring must take care to steer them away from the light of goodness, either directly or through subtle influences on their child’s life.

Men to Cambions

On the whole, cambions seem to resent mortal men, mostly for the virtual impossibility of making sex something a man will dread, as well as the much increased risk of their getting raped and inconveniently impregnated when a cambion crosses blades with a man. However, a man has his uses, and a cambion may be pragmatic enough to use her sexual whiles to use them.

Able to sculpt their bodies to a man’s desire like clay and blessed with voices of supremely seductive character, a cambion can act as a supreme temptation to any man’s lust. Though fucking a cambion in and of itself is not an irrevocable ticket to damnation, a cambion expertly couches her performance of adoration in a way to also earn the man’s trust and gradually gain influence in his decisions. In this way, a cambion may slowly direct her male target to greater and greater evil deeds. With the amount of influence a man can have on the world around him, a man driven to evil can devastate whole regions in rapacious tyranny.

Though most cambions will eventually damn their male lovers to the Lower Planes as a matter of course, some, particularly those loyal to the Nine Hells, achieve this as their ultimate goal. When a cambion successfully drives a man’s soul to the Nine Hells, his soul is branded as the property of the cambion and her superiors. At this point, the cambion can finally find true enjoyment in fucking her man, in the form of a subservient devil.

Whether cambions themselves can be male is a matter of some debate among mortal scholars. Many reason that there is no reason an unborn male babe could not be utterly corrupted by evil as a his female equivalent. Some however consider cambions to be “natural born” fiends, who, like those demons simply spawned by the abyss, can only be female. Whatever the case may be, all cambions known to mortal ken have been women.

Chapter 28: Carrion Crawler

In deep, dark places, like abandoned dungeons and the expanse of the Underdark, carrion crawlers act as the vultures and hyenas of these inaccessible reaches, gorging on putrescent flesh of abandoned carcasses and the scraps of greater monster’s kills. Despite being a simple scavenger, carrion crawlers will attempt to prey on vulnerable looking creatures that cross their paths, including unwary adventurers.

Scavenger Supreme

A carrion crawler dwells across wide networks of tunnels in search of her next meal, sometimes even popping out onto the surface at night to plunder particularly rich areas like battlefields and cemeteries. The many legs that carry a carrion crawler scuttle near silently, despite her alarming size. This means a carrion crawler can go unnoticed by her own predators, especially while she scuttles along the ceiling and walls of a tunnel above them.

A carrion crawler does not travel blindly however. As she moves along, her tentacles wave through the air ahead of her, picking up the faintest scent of blood and decay. This powerful sense of smell easily brings a carrion crawler into visual range of a corpse, especially with her compound eye’s appreciable low light vision.

Thanks to their range of sensory inputs, Carrion crawlers often trail a few days behind violent predators and adventurers, consuming the flesh and bones of every abandoned carcass that stood in their way. Thanks to this, adventurers with little restraint or forethought often lead several carrion crawlers right to them.

Scourges and Steeds

Whether drawn by the foes they have slain or simply running into them by shear dumb luck, a carrion crawler can be a surprisingly nightmarish opponent for a simple minded scavenger. Most often ambushing living prey from above, a carrion crawler silently reaches out with her many whiplike tentacles. As well as serving as her olfactory organs, carrion crawler tentacles also secrete an acute, fast acting poison. When this toxin soaks through the victim’s skin, it integrates into the musculature, causing body-wide cramps that render the victim stiff and helpless.

Usually, a carrion crawler prefers an easy meal to a large one and will attempt to flee any of her victim’s allies, carrying her victim with her to kill with her many rows of teeth in safety. Generally, a carrion crawler does not eat her prey right away. Instead, she prefers to find a pond, midden, or other disease-ridden place where she can leave her kill to ripen before tearing into its flesh. For those of stiff constitution and low personal standards, these fermenting pits can be excellent places to find the inedible coins, equipment, and valuables of past victims.

Despite the threat a wild carrion crawler poses, many races of the Underdark keep domestic carrion crawlers as mounts. So long as they are reliably fed on a diet of spoiled meat and other filth, a carrion crawler can be kept quite easily. With silent steps and the ability to climb walls and ceilings as easily as one may walk along a floor, carrion crawlers are the perfect steeds for those looking to navigate the complex caverns that make up underdark trade routes, so long as the rider is properly secured. A carrion crawler can also be harvested for her paralytic mucus, which may be refined into a debilitating poison, most popular among drow and duergar who wish to take their foes alive for slavery.

Sex and Sexuality Among Carrion Crawlers

Carrion crawlers mate about once per year, with no truly set time for breeding. When two carrion crawlers meet, their reaction to each other largely depends on how recently they have mated. If one or both have mated recently, they will likely ward each other off with aggressive tentacle displays. If one is significantly weaker than the other, the stronger may even try to eat them.

If both carrion crawlers are receptive to mating, sex is generally brief and uneventful, the two fucking back to back on the ceiling, with their rear halves dangling down. This unintuitive mating position is the reason that many uninformed keepers of carrion crawlers decry them as impossible to breed in captivity. If given the right geology however, they breed quite easily. Most mating sessions end with both crawlers going their separate ways pregnant.

During pregnancy is one of the few times a carrion crawler will actively hunt for live prey. Once a carrion crawler finds and kills a sizable creature, or several small ones, she will lay up to one hundred wineskin sized eggs within them. Though the mother will abandon the eggs soon after laying, the foot long grubs will hatch to find their first meal already rotted. Few carrion crawlers make it to adulthood, they are just as likely to be eaten by each other as by predators, but after a year and several moults, the surviving grubs will become reproductively available adults.

Men to Carrion Crawlers

In general, carrion crawlers hold only a very minor interest in men, one that is trumped entirely by hunger and survival instincts. Although apparently able to tell men from women by sight and smell, a carrion crawler who is hungry or recently mated will just as readily try to kill and eat a male adventurer as a female one.

Carrion crawlers who are open to mating generally do not approach men directly, perhaps in fear of assault, but will allow themselves to be spotted a distance away. She will usually pick a low ceilinged tunnel where she can dangle her lower body and put her pussy in easy reach for a floor-bound man. On being sighted, a carrion crawler will generally react in kind, fleeing or attacking if the man makes sudden movements, but generally cooperating if the man’s intentions seem sexual. However, even if a carrion crawler seems sexually cooperative, it is always best for a man to take care, some carrion crawlers are known to turn on a man once impregnated, attempting to slay him so the grubs he impregnated her with will have a meal.

Perhaps the safest way to fuck a carrion crawler is to fuck one that is domesticated. So long as she is properly fed, a tame carrion crawler should be completely compliant to being bred by a man. The main issue in these cases is usually finding a cooperative owner. Tamed carrion crawlers can sell for hundreds of gold pieces depending on the merchant, and many who own carrion crawlers are denizens of the Underdark who can be distrustful by experience, deceitful by culture, or outright misandrist.

Despite how many carrion crawlers infest the Underdark and how many are captive bred, none have encountered male carrion crawlers. This is taken by some to be evidence of the carrion crawler’s aberrant origin as sexless beings from beyond Nymphona’s reality, rendered female on entry. This however raises the question however as to how carrion crawlers so instinctively recognise the ability of male life to breed them, regardless of appearance.

Chapter 29: Centaur

With the lower build of a sturdy mare but her tits sized for a horse resting on the chest of a humanoid torso, the centaur thunders across the open plains in a vast herd. Though normally reclusive, companionate, and wise in the ways of nature, a centaur can be a fearsome foe when pushed, strong, handy in the ways of the bow, and able to summon forth the savage fury of a wild beast.

Nomads of the Endless Plains

Laid out in ancient tradition centaurs travel far and wide across continents in endless migration. It can take years for a centaur to retread the same ground and the herd rarely stays in one place for long unless faced with an obstacle to face or traditional rite that needs performing. Due to their wandering ways, centaurs have no concept of land ownership between each other and actively refuse to brook claims from other races, going so far as to vandalise boundary markers and batter down gates.

Needless to say, centaurs can fester a level of resentment from more sedentary civilised races. Even when an offshoot of the herd, normally the rambunctious young fillies, come to town with coin to spend, they often end up drunkenly throwing their considerable weight around and causing trouble, the herd moving on before reparations can be made. Despite this, centaurs, especially as they age, tend to be companionate creatures, willing to share their knowledge of nature to cure the sick, predict the weather for farmers, and find food in times the harvest fails. When true evil raises its head, centaurs may even be convinced to take to the field of battle on the side of good as a devastating light cavalry.

Regardless of obstacles, the herd moves ever onwards. If, thanks to injuries or old age, a centaur cannot keep up, she is left behind. Many centaurs that live to see such a day simply disappear into the wilderness, never to be seen again. Others, who can cope with the ending of their life long migration, may find community in their waning years among other races, particularly elves and halflings who, in exchange for their hospitality, can find an elder centaur to be a vital repository for knowledge of the wild.

Herd Traditions

Though wild and free, centaurs do in fact have rather staunch traditions concerning their herd structure. Most herds have two leaders, known as the Matriarch and the Stallion. These roles work in tandem with each other, each taking the lead in separate situations. Without one or the other of these roles most centaur herds would collapse into disarray.

Often the oldest centaur still able to run with the herd, the Matriarch serves as a repository for the herd’s vast natural wisdom. Sometimes practiced in druidic magics, the Matriarch serves as the herds main teacher, medic, and spiritual advisor. The Matriarch is also the one who recalls ang guides the herd along the traditional paths of migration, finding places where food and water are plentiful and steering clear of those places where evil dwells. Even when an issue falls within the preview of her fellow leader, the Stallion, her advice is deeply respected and a Stallion who goes against or worse still ignores it will likely loose much of her herd’s confidence.

Despite the name, Stallions are of course more often mares. A mare becomes Stallion by popular vote, often taken once per decade. Generally, a winning Stallion earns her place by showing herself to be strong, bold, decisive, and charismatic, often leading the Stallion to be a younger centaur with a fiery passion and a rowdy streak about a mile wide. It is the role of the Stallion to keep her herd safe and cohesive, settling disputes, laying down herd law, doling out accolades and punishments as deserved, and, when necessary, leading the charge when the herd enters battle.

As well as leadership, centaurs often have a range of other traditions for which they care for deeply. Feathers, shells, and other objects that one of another race may consider mere accessories laced into her hair and tail are to a centaur badges of honour, recounting acts of skill and bravery that are worth every ounce of pride their tokens bring her. As such, off handed remarks to these items or, worse still, attempts to touch them without permission can result in an incontestable fury from their owner.

A centaur’s mood can change quickly. It is quite normal for two mares to shout and scream at each other in fury one moment, and be holding each other like sisters the next. Roughhousing is also common, but when this is translated to the settlements of human’s and the like, a centaur can quite forget her own strength. Thanks to this, and a general distaste for the confinement of a settlement, centaurs prefer to keep their contact with other races to a minimum.

Sex and Sexuality Among Centaurs

Wild, free, and bound together in the bonds of a herd, sex is a highly prevalent part of most centaur’s life. With little sense of shame, most centaurs wear little or no clothing, only putting on clothes for self-expression or protection from inclement weather. Centaurs will generally have sex pretty much anywhere while the herd is not moving, even in full view of the rest of the herd. Centaurs will also fuck nearly any member of the herd they feel familiar with, though will not attempt to breed with direct blood relations. Of course, a more popular centaur will have more herd members looking to fuck her, often leading to the Stallion having the most sexual partners.

Sex is so integral and greatly enjoyed by centaurs that one of their most common punishments for misdeed among them is forced abstinence for a period of weeks, months, or even years for serious crimes. These edicts are usually followed through with, since breaches can lead to more devastating punishments like tail shaving, beatings, and even exile. Even still, a centaur on forced abstinence suffers a great deal of stress, sometimes going near insane with lust if their sentence is a long one. Once their punishment is served however, a centaur is usually welcomed back into the fold with grace and finds a sexual partner with the same ease as any other.

With all this sex going on, a centaur herd tends to enjoy a steady stream of pregnancies to maintain numbers. Though the Stallion avoids getting pregnant by tradition, any other centaur may impregnate or get pregnant as she chooses. A centaur’s pregnancy gestates in her equine lower half for about ten months, during which time, the pregnancy usually does little to interfere with her ability to keep pace with the herd.

A foal is able to walk within minutes of being born, but will need to be taught how to talk and of her herd’s traditions by her mother, aided as necessary by close relatives and the Matriarch. Though she will likely witness and swiftly grow accustomed to sexual activity between older members of the herd, a foal will likely be bared from having sex herself until she becomes a filly at the age of twelve, and won’t breed for the first time until she becomes a sixteen year old mare.

During adventurous excursions into towns and villages fillies and young mares may try to hit on women of other races, hoping to have sex with them despite the difference in size and lack of reproductive compatibility, especially once fuelled. Though sometimes alarmingly pushy, especially once a young centaur has imbibed copious ale and wine, these flirtations are normally of the intention to find a mutually enjoyable pairing. Despite stereotypes, it is rare for centaurs to commit rape on each other or other races, and both infractions are met with harsh punishments in most herds.

Men to Centaurs

A centaur’s reaction to meeting a man is usually based on her age. The first response most centaurs young enough to have not yet borne a foal of their own on meeting a man is unrestrained excitement and lust. If there are no older centaurs around to restrain her a filly, young mare, or sometimes even an unattended foal may drop everything to try and seduce a man into impregnating her. Depending on their usual role in the tribe, a centaur may be pleadingly submissive, or fiercely dominating, outright demanding that she is bred.

As a centaur grows older and more cautious however, she may come to realise that a man’s cock comes bound up with the man morality and possibly dangerous intentions. As such, experienced mares hold their younger compatriots back for a while, letting the Matriarch analyse the man while the Stallion interrogates him. In this period of investigation, great instability can wrack the herd, with younger centaurs expressing their frustration and being barred from mating and older centaurs being almost outright hostile to a potentially innocent man.

Regardless of age however, centaurs never truly loose their natural lust. Once a man is deemed safe, everyone, from the already slutty fillies, to the wise old Matriarch, to the fearsome, dominating Stallion will gladly drop all pretence and have the man fuck them.

Centaurs too can birth males, doing so with about the same frequency as humans, especially in the Feywild. With their lustful nature, female centaurs of all ages will clamour to fuck a male foal born to their herd. As his sexual proficiency grows as a colt, so does his popularity. By the time he grows to be a stallion, it is all but assured he will become the Stallion of his herd for the rest of his life. Though driven to wander like other men, male centaurs share this trait with their female counterparts, meaning he never has to leave his herd behind.

As well as dramatically growing his herd by fucking all its members, a male centaur will fuck new allies, visitors, animals, defeated foes, and downed monsters, proving his herd’s power with his huge and virile cock. The non centaur offspring of a male centaur tend to be strong, swift, fertile, bold, and loving of freedom, for themselves and others.

Chapter 30: Chimera (Art)

According to legends of the ancient past there was once a time where Demogorgon, Princess of Demon, most terrible of the Demon Lords, breached the veil between planes to walk the Material Plane. Before her eventual banishment, the demon lord came to see many of the creatures that call the Material Plane home. Their plainness displeased her.

Taking her immense corruptive power, Demogorgon bade the beings around her breed without reason or restraint. Scales mingled with fur and predator fell on prey in an orgy of sexual violence. Thanks to the demon lord’s influence, the creatures that survived birthed cruelly merged, multi-headed hybrids. Many of these creatures doubtlessly perished as twisted, mewling abominations, but a few of these monsters happened to be of the power and cruelty to thrive as apex predators. Known today as chimeras, they continue to spread pain and misery enough to bring their wicked creator pride.

Corrupted Crossbreeds

Fitting their chaotic origins, a chimera can be formed of parts from nearly creature of the Material Plane, natural or monstrous. However, as time has gone on, certain strains of chimera have proven themselves to be better equipped to survive than others. As a result, most modern chimeras are a hybrid of a lioness or other big cat, a brutish herbivore such as a goat, and some form of dragon (typically a fire breathing red dragon), with a head from each constituent part. Abstractions can and do occur however.

The reason that the lion, goat, and dragon chimera is so successful may go beyond the combined armoury of fangs, claws, horns, and destructive breath however. In most cases, a chimera not only combines her elements’ physical features, but also the worst, most vicious parts of their primal minds.

From the lion, a chimera gains the drive to hunt and kill, preying on the weak and slaying anything powerful enough to threaten her territorial claims with efficient brutality before they can mount an offensive. Meanwhile, the goat’s head drives a chimera to be irritable and stubborn, causing her to continue to maim and slaughter even when the fight turns against them or there is nothing to gain. The dragon in a chimera sharpens her violent impulses through a drive to amass and protect a treasure hoard. This drives the chimera to specifically seek out intelligent beings, either to rob or because she perceives them as potential thieves, leading to massive upwells of pain and suffering for any communities unfortunate enough to live nearby.

Chimeras don’t only hunt for food and loot, but also seem intent to enjoy the suffering of their prey. Picking out weaker creatures, a chimera strikes fast, wounding them but leaving them alive, in pain, and terrified. This pattern repeats until the prey loses all hope, or the chimera actually starts to feel like eating.

Capricious War Beasts

Though of a low, bestial intellect, a chimera’s draconic aspect gives her an instinctive grasp of the draconic tongue and a portion of a dragon’s ego; thanks to this, flattery and bribes can forestall a chimera’s wrath somewhat. A gift of sufficient food and treasure may even be sufficient to turn her from violence for a time. This placation however generally forces towns that submit to a chimera to hand over more and more, eventually leading to the sacrifice of innocent passers through and an increase in tolerance for such callous acts of evil.

On the other hand, for powerful individuals already of an evil persuasion, a chimera can be an unpredictable, but valuable asset. Though usually belligerent, a chimera who is promised a reliable stream of prisoners to violently consume and loot to hoard may be persuaded to serve a villain’s interests for as long as the payments keep coming.

A villain with a chimera on hand may call for her to strike fear into the hearts of opposing forces in the field or to keep three pairs of eyes out for intruders as a guardian. However, unlike other servants of evil, a chimera will virtually never follow a mistress out of fear, admiration, or even common goals. A chimera remains purely as a mercenary. If she senses weakness or feels her interests would be better served outside of a villain’s employ, a chimera can and will turn on them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Chimeras

When it comes to sex, Chimeras seem to fuck mostly for the pleasure of dominating a creature that hates and fears them over any physical pleasure. Sometimes, a bored chimera will fall upon prey species like horses, deer, and even humanoids to rape them rather than physically assault them, either killing them as soon as she has forced them to cum, or flying off to assault them again and again until their reaction ceases to be entertaining.

Of course, for chimeras to persist they cannot fuck only prey. Every so often, about once per year in the early spring, a chimera must seek a mate of her own kind. Unfortunately for chimeras, they do not loose their rapacious, dominant instincts when mating season comes around. The result is that chimeras experience a huge amount of rape, with young, wounded, or elderly chimera fleeing those in their prime who wish to forcibly breed them, while chimera’s who are evenly matched will brawl for sexual dominance.

Those chimeras forced into submission find themselves experiencing a year long pregnancy. Typically, a chimera gives birth to around six cubs per pregnancy. Despite being on average two parts mammalian, a chimera rarely tolerates having to care for her cubs for more than a couple days after birth. A chimera cub that fails to leave soon after this rejection may be slain or forcibly impregnated by her own mother.

Though unable to temper her lack of maternal instincts, chimeras still lactate for a few weeks after birth thanks to their mammalian features. Normally, this milk goes to waste, but some races, brave or foolish, such as orcs, do battle with mother chimeras to harvest the milk for intoxicant drinks they believe grant her strength to them.

Men to Chimeras

With a dragon’s pride, a lioness’ drive for dominance, and a cantankerous goat’s utter refusal to submit, chimeras despise men on instinct. The fact a man who overcomes her can go on to impregnate her by force in the way a far mightier chimera might unites a chimera’s minds in hatred. Though under pressure, a chimera will go for the kill on a man without hesitation, it is rarely satisfactory to a chimera for a male creature to simply die.

A chimera may strike a town’s prize stallion lame to watch him stagger around in agony for weeks in a gloating position before finally swooping in for the kill. A male dog may be mauled and then hung from a high perch to slowly die. Knowing how people value their social connections, a chimera attempts to compound a humanoid man’s suffering by killing the women he is closest to, depriving him of love and connection while likely turning other women away from him. So deep does a chimera’s hatred of men run that not even a man evil enough to offer prisoners to feast on and ill-gotten bounties can attain a chimera’s service, not even in non-sexual matters, unless he is willing to employ magics that totally subvert a creature’s mind.

Still, a man who can overcome a chimera’s violence and cruelty, likely with a band of adventurers to aid him, may find himself able to forcibly fuck her. While a living and conscious chimera is never truly safe to be around, most chimera’s have a natural quirk that makes them easier to handle. Even when the difference in strength is clear, a chimera is rarely so weak that she could not turn around and kill a stronger chimera that tries to dominate her sexually, even if she too would be likely to die in the process.

Since this mutual destruction is obviously detrimental to all parties involved, chimeras that experience true sexual domination by another chimera or, as it happens, by a man freezes up a little. While far from helpless in this state, a chimera’s back half becomes generally unresponsive to her urge to kick and lash with her tail and she struggles to turn around. Therefore, while a chimera will fight to the death to avoid a man fucking her, a man who successfully places himself in a position of sexual dominance will experience a sudden drop in effective resistance.

Most chimeras inherit the draconic capacity for vengeance. However, few chimeras are smart enough to plot complex plans of revenge, so a man who leaves a chimera’s territory soon after fucking her rarely suffers consequences for his actions.

As a fusion of beasts and monsters, a chimera can on occasion be born male. If a male chimera leaves his mother’s lair before she can realise what she gave birth to, he may grow up to be an agent of rapacious fury. A male chimera will try to fuck nearly anything with a pussy, always aiming to spread his seed when not slaying his mate for food. A male chimera’s many offspring will be the same species as their mother in most cases, but with monstrous mutations such as caprine horns, leonine eyes, draconic scales, a tendency towards unstable or triplicate personalities, and occasionally an affinity for draconic sorcery.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art here. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 31: Chuul

Long ago, when the seas were dark and untouched by any goddess, the aboleths ruled. They sought power and worship, and in the primordial lakes and seas, they got it. However, they could reach little further. Bound to the water aboleths cannot enforces their will very far above the waves without assistance. Thus came the chuuls.

The first chuuls were mutated by the vast arcane and psionic powers of the aboleths from the amphibious crustations that scampered between sea and land. These mutations equipped the chuuls with far greater size, power, durability, and most importantly loyalty to their creators. Chuuls were and are some of the most powerful and faithful servants at the aboleth’s command. Even with the goddesses defeating their mistresses and severing their telepathic link, the chuuls wait in hidden places, biding their time and preparing for the aboleths’ return.

Guardians Eternal

Thanks to the variety of mutations wrought upon them by the aboleths, chuuls are functionally immortal, seemingly immune to disease and the ravages of time, leaving only violence, misfortune, or starvation to kill them. Chuuls can eat virtually anything, from fungi and algae, to animals and fish, though many seem to have a taste for humanoid flesh. Despite towering at about eight feet tall, a chuul can go years between meals.

With these minimal needs, a chuul typically waits out the eons around a site of significance to the aboleth. Such a site may be the place an aboleth once dwelt, temples to their worship, or vaults that once  or may still hold their great riches. Ambushing invaders and passing creatures for sustenance a chuul never tires of her ceaseless vigil.

Adventurers who stumble upon a chuul can expect neither parley nor retreat from her, for she sees them as both invaders of her protectorate and prey. The only time a chuul may show a kind of mercy is when her protected site is equipped with a prison on holding pen, which she will endeavour to take living humanoids to in preparation for an aboleth to convert them into thralls. In reality however, such prisoners will likely starve awaiting an aboleth that isn’t coming or be slain for showing excessive uncooperativeness in the chuul’s eyes.

Sensers of Magic

Though endlessly patient for their aboleth mistresses’ return, a chuul is rarely idle in her waiting. As well as guarding areas of significance to the aboleths, chuuls also search for and guard treasures and artifacts that their mistresses may find useful to their plans. This causes chuuls to instinctually horde coins, gems, equipment, and most of all magic.

Thanks to a psionic adaptation wrought by the aboleths, chuuls can sense magic in a wide proximity to themselves with the same fervour a scavenging crab might sense rotting fish. Thanks to this, chuuls can seek out even the most well hidden spellbooks, magic scrolls, arcane weaponry, potions, and other magical trinkets, slaying their current owners and hiding it all away for safekeeping in a spot predetermined by ancient orders.

As rumours of treasure and arcane vaults spread, would be adventurers can be drawn to the depths to plunder it. More often than not, this greed is near enough fatal, and whatever valuables and equipment the foolhardy adventurers brought with them are added to the hoard.

If the time comes when an aboleth does make telepathic contact with a chuul, the chuul will present her gathered prises to her new mistress before abandoning her vigil to aid in the aboleth’s current sinister plan.

Sex and Sexuality Among Chuuls

While capable of it, chuuls do not generally have sex with each other of their own accord. Seemingly a modification to keep their numbers manageable, chuuls tend to only engage in sex with each other under the direct command of an aboleth. When chuuls mate, one of them will birth an egg sac soon after.

Containing over a hundred hen-sized eggs, a chuul mother will normally place her egg sac in a dark pond to guard it, though an aboleth may command a different strategy. One common plot is to stealthily stick the egg sack to the underside of a boat, spreading chuuls out to increase the aboleth’s sphere of influence.

Wherever they are, chuul eggs hatch a couple of weeks after birth. The tiny chuuls are fully capable of looking after themselves from the start and are naturally instilled with the instincts to obey any aboleth and protect any aboleth structure they come across. In just over a decade, a young chuul will have reached its full size ready for service or eternal guardianship.

Men to Chuul

Being little more than automata of flesh and shell, chuuls don’t actually display an aboleth’s bias against men unless directly under one’s control. This is not to say chuuls like men, they will just as readily attack a man as a woman. It is likely thanks to the aboleths' hatred of men that all chuuls are female.

However, if a chuul for whatever reason doesn’t feel the need to attack a man, for example if she considers him her unescaped prisoner, she can be surprisingly compliant, if not helpful, in sex. Though she will not make moves to make access easier for him, chuul will calmly go about her duties with a man clinging on and fucking her, with only reactive twitches of stimulation, only moving to remove him on leaving for a place she’d rather he not follow her. A chuul will even let herself get impregnated without complaint, giving an opportunity for escape as she abandons her patrol routes to guard her egg sac.

Chapter 32: Cloaker

In the darkest recesses of the world, caves and buried ruins alike, cloakers are airborne, stingray-like hunters whose monstrous form belies her alien thoughts and aberrant perspective. A cloaker on the hunt slips silently through the shadows seeking no conflict with intelligent races, but also seeing little wrong with preying on potentially vulnerable individuals.

Theorised to be from the far realm, the minds, morals, and overarching intentions of cloakers are largely incomprehensible to most normal folks. Though seemingly isolationist, baring a few scant meetings, and interested only in hunting to survive, the few rare interactions with cloakers that did not descend into violence suggests an intellect capable of planning much more.

Flattened Infiltrators

Though in flight, they hang free and round as any other airborne creature’s, a cloaker’s breasts are some of the most extremely compressible in existence, to the point where a cloaker can lay completely flush with the ground or fold her wings in on herself to compress her tits out of sight with no discomfort. In either state, with her white underside and face hidden, a cloaker can greatly resemble a dark leather cloak, thus earning her name. Even her ivory graspers can resemble a clasp while her secondary eyes look like buttons. While these poses help a cloaker to blend into the shadows as well, she is also not against hiding in places one would expect to see apparel to hide from intelligent prey.

Whether the prey is intelligent or not, a cloaker prefers to attack her prey from hiding. Generally, when prey gets close, a cloaker strikes immediately, biting down with a mouth of razor-sharp fangs. If she manages to get a good bite on her prey, as she almost certainly will with the element of surprise, the cloaker latches on, wrapping her wings around the victim’s head, cutting off sight and ability to breathe.

Though prey will struggle mightily to escape such a grip, this method of killing also opens the cloaker up to attack from her chosen target’s allies as well as opportunist predators like carrion crawlers. A cloaker wards such dangers away with her long, barbed tail while continuing to take bites out of her prey to hasten their demise. If these measures fail, a cloaker has another, less mundane defence at her disposal.

Through a natural process not yet understood by scholars, a cloaker can bend the shadows in her vicinity to create illusory duplicates of herself. Drifting around and overlapping each other these images obscure which of the up to four cloakers is real, making it hard to land an effective hit.

Alien Wrongness

Even in non-hostile situations, humanoids generally feel uncomfortable in the presence of a cloaker, with people struggling to trust a cloaker or feel secure in her presence. To some extent at least, it is almost certain that a cloaker’s predatory form and inhuman personality plays a role in this, for the pervasive effect is less pronounced on seasoned adventurers who have experience with the unusual. But at least some of the discomfort comes directly from a cloaker’s voice.

Though able to speak as humanoids do, usually in the Underdark’s common tongue along with one or two forgotten languages, cloakers generally communicate with each other through infrasonic moans. These moans carry far, letting cloakers communicate near constantly over long distances while only meeting face to face on rare occasions. Though out pf the range of most humanoid’s hearing, a cloaker’s moans still have an effect on them, making one’s skin crawl.

Cloakers are smart enough to weaponize this effect of their communication, not only making intelligent prey act rashly in their presence from unease, but also by raising the pitch of their moan to the audible range. Hearing a cloaker’s audible moan from up close immediately triggers nearly any creature’s survival instincts, causing them to flee or freeze up in terror. Only hardened combatants can steel their will against the unnatural sound.

Though useful for breaking up groups of enemies and repelling potential interlopers from their victims and kills, a cloaker also suffers some drawbacks from her moan. Creating the eerily inaudible version of the sound as naturally as she breathes, a cloaker knows that true alliance with a humanoid or group of humanoids is a doubtful prospect. Out of preternatural fear, a cloaker knows she will never experience true fair treatment from her supposed friends and in the worst case scenario, her moan may drive their paranoia to the point they turn on her. To avoid such a fate, most cloakers prefer to be alone or occasionally live in the company of other aberrant creatures, such as mind flayers or aboleths.

Sex and Sexuality Among Cloakers

Despite resembling skates, rays, and other flatfish, cloakers do not propagate in the way they or many other natural fish do. Cloakers have no need to mate with each other. Instead, a mature cloaker spontaneously falls pregnant about once every couple of years without any sexual intercourse taking place. A pregnant cloaker lays a clutch of three or four leathery eggs in well hidden crevices. Suiting their coincidental resemblance to humanoid clothing, cloaker eggs bare a marked resemblance to leather purses.

A cloaker mother pays little heed to her eggs once laid, and cloakers chew their way out of their eggs to find themselves alone but for their siblings. Despite this, adult cloakers can be surprisingly altruistic to young, even unrelated cloaker pups, giving them advice in passing or even allowing one or two to follow under their wing to gain knowledge on survival.

With this total lack of need for sexuality, cloakers typically have no emotive desire to experience romance or sexuality. Indeed, many cloakers are disgusted or at least perturbed to witness such feelings in other creatures. Some cloakers are known to attack or at least unleash a frightening moan from cover specifically to interrupt a romantic or sexual interaction they can’t stand to bear witness to.

Men to Cloakers

Being that cloakers have neither a need nor a high tolerance for sexual activities, cloakers generally find men unpleasant things to interact with. Not only do men initiate sex on a frequent basis, but, unlike most women, may actively try to flirt with or sexually pressure the cloaker herself. Cloakers struggle to understand the male mind even more than most women thanks to being an all-female breed of aberrant monster, and most cloakers have no desire to learn more on this topic.

In virtually all cases, it is pretty much impossible to compel a cloaker to fuck consensually. Most cloakers will only have sex with a man under the threat of bodily harm or enchantment magic. When having sex however, cloakers are not immune to the physical pleasures of being fucked. Most cloakers will moan audibly, requiring a man steel himself against psychological terror while fucking her.

After being fucked for the first time, a cloaker may or may not decide that they stimulated ecstasy outbalances her natural discomfort when having sex, thus making her more permissive of sex in the future. Though able to get pregnant without being impregnated, a man can impregnate a cloaker out of normal sequence, thus causing her to have more offspring. Cloakers are usually ambivalent to this fact, sometimes being mildly pleased or displeased by the increased prevalence of blood descendants and competition respectively.

Chapter 33: Cockatrice

Almost certainly the result of some forgotten wizard’s ill-advised experimentation, a cockatrice resembles a rather unfriendly hybrid of lizard, bat, and fighting hen. Generally nesting in rocky crevices or abandoned rabbit warrens, cockatrices eke out a living in nearly any environment as small predators and fearless scavengers. Cockatrices would be easily pushed around by larger predators and be of little note to people if it weren’t for their terrifying capabilities and the unabashed boldness that this ability causes.

Scratch of Doom

Generally, a cockatrice either snatches carrion from already dead carcasses or hunts down prey like rodents, lizards, large insects, and small birds, creatures that she can swallow whole. Despite this unassuming diet, cockatrices have very little fear of larger creatures. When faced with a threat, a cockatrice’s first instinct is to fly into the face of danger, kicking, pecking, and beating her wings against them.

With a finely pointed beak, razor sharp talons, long spurs, and even bladed feathers, even the blind flailing of an angered cockatrice is bound to pierce unarmoured skin. Even a scratch from a cockatrice can doom a creature though. If a cockatrice manages to pierce the skin of an opponent, her natural magic will come into effect. Over the course of a few seconds a magical force overcomes the victim’s body. If it cannot be resisted, the creature will stiffen and swiftly turn to stone. In this helpless state, a statue can all to easily be tipped and damaged, essentially killing the petrified victim.

In an act of small mercy, a cockatrice’s petrifying touch only lasts about a day. So long as the statue is watched over and protected from further damage, a petrified victim will make a full recovery. This feature is likely to avoid wasting a hunt by accidently scratching her intended prey. Even if a creature is petrified, a cockatrice can still swallow her catch and hold it in her gullet to be ground against true rocks and other stone creatures into gravel which becomes an edible meat slurry after twenty four hours.

Caged Havoc

Though their petrifying ability makes them a disproportionally dangerous monster, a cockatrice is not much stronger or smarter than the typical domestic turkey or goose. As such, it can be quite easily tricked and trapped by enterprising individuals. Though a cockatrice is unfailingly aggressive and pretty much too violently stupid to train, they still have their uses.

Dead, many wizards and alchemists can find a myriad of uses for a cockatrices magic infused body, turning her spurs, feathers, and organs into magical arrows, quills, and potions, mostly to manipulate the forces of rock, stone, and preservation. As such individuals will often pay large sums for their ingredients, cockatrice hunting or even farming can be a lucrative, if deeply risky business.

Living cockatrices are normally kept by people of less arcane talent who still possess a shred of innovation and dark mischief. Common cockatrice keepers include human bandits, goblins, and kobolds. A cockatrice’s small size means that she can, with some care, be effectively stuffed into a chest or behind a door to a disused room, waiting for an unsuspecting intruder to open up and release their pent up fury. In a more complex design, a tripwire or treasure plate may take the role of opening the door to a cockatrice’s cage.

In open combat, a crude catapult or larger allies such as ogres can throw a crate containing a cockatrice among enemy lines. When the impact breaks the box open, the cockatrice disrupts enemy formations as soldiers flee the enraged beast out of fear of turning to stone. Whether in combat or as a trap, a cockatrice is ideal for those seeking to take prisoners, for due trial or more often slavery, for a cockatrice is unlikely to kill her opponent directly, while giving the handlers ample time to transfer the statues to a prison before they turn back into living flesh and blood.

Sex and Sexuality Among Cockatrices

Though generally hostile to everything, even other cockatrices, most cockatrices will usually find one other of their kind which they can tolerate as a mate and partner. This selection process is usually quite violent, with a strong cockatrice starting with a small harem of lesser suitors who sight amongst each other until only one remains.

Once a mate pair is established, cockatrices fuck quite frequently in a rapid, violent fashion. Thankfully, cockatrices are immune to each other’s magical effects and thus stray scratches will not turn a cockatrice’s mate into stone. About four or so times per year, the stronger of the two cockatrices will be impregnated and lay one or two russet brown eggs in their hidden nest.

For just under a month, the mother will sit on her eggs, keeping them warm and attacking anything that comes too close, trusting her mate to bring her food. Once the eggs hatch, the chicks can run almost immediately, so will follow their parents out of the nest to learn how to hunt. once sexually mature at around four months old, a cockatrice is driven off by her parents to survive on her own.

Men to Cockatrices

Female cockatrices seem to recognise the unique reproductive nature of men, but this does not make them safe or in any way tame. A cockatrice may know that a man is capable of impregnating her, but just as with another of her kind, she will seek to test his mettle against her own before submitting. This is especially true if she already has a mate, since they will be trying to fight to keep their mate’s interest on them. This makes sexual interest and aggression identical in result.

Whether the cockatrice is testing a man or has decided she is willing to fuck him a cockatrice is a dangerous beast to handle. Even in the throes of sex, a cockatrice may try to scratch her lover. While these superficial wounds are part of the trade for a practiced monster fucker, attraction or acceptance of a man does not constitute a reprieve from her magic. To avoid being turned to stone, a man should wear thick clothing while fucking a cockatrice and bind her beak and legs as best he can.

Male cockatrices also occur on occasion. Instead of allowing all but the strongest of the harem that grows around him to be chased away, a male cockatrice overcomes her kind’s usual isolationism to form a pack of around ten mates for him to fuck. Male cockatrices may on occasion try to fuck other creatures, including overwhelmed humanoid women, but generally stick to their own kind. This is mostly due to complications caused by his magical nature.

Like females, male cockatrices are prone to being quite violent in sex, pecking and scratching his mate. While female cockatrices are naturally immune to the magical side effects of this, a male cockatrice does not confer this immunity to his mates. As a result, a male cockatrice fucking something other than a female cockatrice usually ends up fucking a statue. Despite this, cockatrice sperm can remain in a petrified woman’s stone womb until she recovers from petrification, causing her to get pregnant the moment she returns to normal. A child fathered by a cockatrice usually resembles her mother’s kind, but for a few physical and personality features such as avian eyes, dark nails, and general foolhardy bravado. While it is rare for a non-cockatrice child to inherit a cockatrice’s petrifying scratch, they may show some magical ability to hold foes still for a time.

Chapter 34: Couatl (Art)

For most people, serpents are emblematic of reptilian callousness and venomous duplicity. Suiting this, most of the living goddesses and mighty primordials who associate with snakes are known to be dark powers, or at least being cold to matters of mortals and their suffering. This however, was not always the case.

One serpent goddess, tragically now gone and forgotten by mortals, was a being of virtue and compassion, defiant of modern serpentine assumption. In her benevolence, this goddess created her own flight of celestial winged serpents. Honest, caring, and wise, couatls remain despite their creator’s disappearance.

Ancient Caretakers

Couatls can be found most often in hidden sites that once bore importance to their creator or the forces of good as a whole. Far from simply being residents of these places, a couatl is tasked with watching over her domain, for however many centuries that takes. With their deity’s foresight, a couatl knows what purpose their charge will eventually serve. A vault may hold a weapon that, in the hands of the right hero will be key to good’s triumph over evil, a temple may inspire those around it to good’s light for generations, or a fortress, properly maintained, may serve an army of good’s last bastion.

Regardless of their function, a couatl waits patiently, keeping their holdings ever ready for the day proscribed by the now gone goddess. Though couatls don’t get bored of their duties, few are content to sit idly by while there is good that can be done. With her divine powers, gifted by her celestial nature, a couatl endeavours to feed the hungry, heal the sick and injured, and protect the innocent.

Despite this heroism, most couatls prefer to keep a low profile, to avoid the attention of greater evil. To disguise herself, a couatl can magically transform into a range of animals and humanoids. Even if a couatl engages with the public often, she often does so in the guise of a priestess or other humble figure. A couatl most prefers to inspire goodness however, so that mortals can spread her compassion beyond her reach. To achieve this, a couatl can not only reach out with words but also by slipping away into the minds of influential mortal as they dream, coaching them in morality and saving them from corruption.

Inscrutably Honest

One of the most famous features of a couatl, in direct opposition to the stereotype of a dishonest snake, is her complete inability to lie. A couatl can choose to give vague, incomplete, or misleading answers, or no answer at all if doing so seems in the interest of the cause of good, but she will never state a falsehood.

Though their honesty may make them appear easy to read, this could not be further from the truth. Couatls are incredibly hard to read, not only thanks to their inexpressive, reptilian faces. Though able to speak to all sentient creatures out loud or through telepathy, a couatl shares only the information she deems absolutely necessary in conversation, thus unveiling little personal information. A couatl’s mind, though seemingly unassailable by probing conversation, is even more impervious to magic. No spell can look into a couatl’s mind, read her feelings, or even divine her location.

On the other hand, it is virtually impossible to hide anything from a couatl. A couatl is supernaturally perceptive, able to look straight through invisibility and all manner of magical disguise, with an utterance of prayer, she can make extraplanar and magical presences shine to her. In a similar way a couatl can bore into virtually any mind she chooses at the slightest suspicion of duplicity. Despite this observant talent, most couatls are gentle and kind, able to forgive mortals of their transgressions and guide them down the righteous path.

Sex and Sexuality Among Couatls

Despite being divine beings and having lifespans that span centuries, couatls are sadly not immortal. About a century before her demise, a couatl will begin to hear the call that summons her soul back to the heavens, though the exact circumstance of their death is a mystery to them. Most couatl’s have long since either succeeded or failed their proscribed mission when their time comes, so accept their demise with grace, knowing that celestial wonders await them beyond. Some couatls however have duties yet to be fulfilled. Only when a Couatl’s tasks threaten to extend beyond her years does she seek out the legacy of an heir.

Couatls typically seek out each other for mates of appropriate virtue and purity. Unfortunately for them, a couatl’s vigil is often a lonely one, so the nearest potential mate may be miles or even whole nations away. Couatls are also kept from divining the location of others of their kind by their kind’s innate magical protections. As such, a couatl looking to breed must go out or send mortal assistants on a quest to find another couatl in person, normally following centuries old hearsay.

When a couatl hears of another in need of offspring, they are usually perfectly willing to comply, trusting their fellow celestial’s moral qualifications. Though the act of mating is done between couatls purely for the sake of finding continuing one of their legacies, couatls treat each other with respect, care, and affection throughout, even if they have never before met. Some say there is no sight more beautifully orchestrated than two couatls having sex. It is normally the couatl seeking replacement that ends up pregnant.

A matter of days or weeks after mating, a pregnant couatl gives birth to a single rainbow coloured, jewel-like egg. Holding the egg secure within her protectorate, she guards the egg until it hatches a year later. Though it can expect a long life ahead of it, a newly hatched couatl grows quickly, her mother teaching her of her duties and her place in the world, so that by the time the mother passes on, her child will be ready to assume the role.

Men to Couatls

Rare and retiring, a man is unlikely to find a couatl by looking for her. Instead, a man is more likely to stumble across a couatl, most likely in disguise, unexpectedly. Generally, a man will never know if they came across a couatl, for she would have taken the humble guise of a human traveller or passing bird for example. When a couatl reveals her true nature to a man, it is often because he plays a role in a plan of some importance to her.

Being able to read minds at will, couatls never judge anyone by their outward form. This is especially true of men. While even a beneficent mortal woman can’t help but suspect a man of having some amount of sexually inspired wickedness within him, a couatl can judge the content of a man’s soul with the barest glance. As such, a couatl will treat a good man with the full decency he deserves, saving any wrath or derision for men of evil intent.

Of course, decent treatment does not equate to an immediate agreement to have sex. Still, couatls generally see sex with a morally good man to be an acceptable activity, one they may forestall to encourage the man to perform tasks of importance to the greater good or undertake a quest of spiritual growth. When a couatl fucks a man, she will most often give birth to an aasimar, raising the child with care and teaching them the precepts of morality, but ultimately leaving them free to make their own lives on adulthood. The species of their offspring seems to be a choice however.

Sometimes, when a couatl is looking for an heir and can’t find another of her kind, a mortal man is an intriguing option. Not only are men naturally talented at impregnation, but they can be scried for, unlike a fellow couatl. Once a couatl finds a man, she will reach out into his dreams to reach him. Should the man follow the couatl’s nightly calls, he will find her in the waking world desiring him as a mate. However, for the task of making a hatchling that will take over her role, a couatl will only accept a man of the highest standards of good, typically a paladin or cleric of some just faith. Even then, a couatl normally sets the man a quest with the aim of refining him into the moral standards needed to breed a full blooded couatl egg into her.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art here. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 35: Crawling Claw

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

The grim profession of necromancy is an art that often summons forth the darkest forms of creativity. Amongst the myriad perversions of dead flesh, a simple severed hand may be easily ignored. Small and mobile, some necromancers keep crawling claws around as a familiar of sorts, being a literal third hand under their control. On the other hand however, a crawling claw can be a subtle and easily smuggled agent of death and chaos if unleashed in the right place.

Hands of Murder

In order for such a minor part of a corpse to become invested with undeath, a hand must have served a deathly purpose in life, that purpose being murder. While most hear this and imagine crawling claws to be sourced from assassins and other lowlifes that skulk in the dark for their sentient prey, the rituals to create a crawling claw are in no way so exclusive. In order for a hand to be eligible, it need only have been involved in the intentional extinguishing of another person’s life. this means that even honourable soldiers and courageous heroes who killed in the line of duty can have their hands used in such evil purposes.

The ritual that creates a crawling claw not only animates the hand in question, but lengthens and sharpens the nails to the point they can be used to clamber up walls or slash out a victim’s throat. Finding its way around through a combination of touch and a sense of the presence of a living thing, crawling claws are less talented at precise missions such as assassinations, but can be trusted with simpler tasks like massacring a room full of people or mauling anyone who opens a box in which it’s contained.

On Living Wrist

Despite being undead, the hand used to make a crawling claw need not come from a corpse. If the owner of a severed hand happens to be alive when it is turned into a crawling claw, a metaphysical tether forms between them both. On the claw’s whim, it can reattach itself to its previous owner’s arm where the undead flesh knits with living tissue and becomes indistinguishable from a regular hand, one that was never severed from its body.

This restoration of limb function comes at a price however. At any time, should the necromancer who animated it command, a crawling claw may detach from its mortal host. This removal is a painful experience that causes the killer to enter a vegetative state. This state can be an indefinite one, lasting until the hand reattaches or the person dehydrates or starves to death.

Though the death of its mortal body does nothing to stop a crawling claw, the reverse is not true. If something destroys a crawling claw or causes it to deaminate, the body it belongs to will instantly die. As such, few murderers intentionally seek to have their severed hands reanimate. More often a warrior or thug who has suffered dismemberment will be tricked by a wily necromancer into letting them “heal” their wound. Since the victim can, from the claw’s reattachment, be rendered unconscious by their hands recollection or killed by its destruction, the necromancer essentially holds the murderer’s life in her hands gaining their loyalty as a living servant.

Sex and Sexuality Among Crawling Claws

On the whole, having a crawling claw as an arm doesn’t seems to influence a murderer’s sexual appetites by any supernatural means, leaving only their reactions to their limb’s restoration and any obligation they have towards the necromancer that “restored” them. The instincts of a crawling claw itself, outside of obedience to its creator, can better be described as murderous than sexual.

Despite an overall lack of sexuality, crawling claws do present some sexual questions. As a being who is little more than an animate hand, crawling claws seem to defy the dictates of the world where Nymphona requires all non-male beings to have breasts and a vagina.

For crawling claws who’s body still lives, this issue can be solved quite quickly with a simple understanding of magic. When a spellcaster casts a spell like mage hand, the entity created is not in fact its own form of being, but an extension of its conjurer. For the purposes of Nymphona’s laws, a mage hand shares its creator’s tits and pussy. For a crawling claw, things can work in a similar way, the necessary regions of its living host’s body counting as its own.

This changes when a crawling claw’s host dies or was dead on its creation. Without a living body to act as an extension of, one must change their viewpoint to see how the claw obeys the rules. Specifically, one must look into the Ethereal Plane. On the Border Ethereal, where the Ethereal and Inner Planes overlap, one can see a tiny humanoid form, complete with breasts and pussy, bound to the claw by ribbons of dark necromantic energy.

Some claim this form is the soul of whoever is unfortunate enough to have their hand reanimated, a strong warning against the sin of murder. However, the humanoid form is vague, face obscured by its bindings and outside of biological sex does not necessarily match the killer’s physical form. This leads others to believe it is simply an extension of the necromantic spirit that animated the hand.

Men to Crawling Claws

For the most part, being attached to a crawling claw does not seem to affect the sexual proclivities of killers when it comes to their attraction to men. A murderer who despises men will continue to despise men after her hand is restored, a killer who likes men will continue to like them.

As previously mentioned, crawling claws show no sexual proclivities, as crawling claws don’t even seem capable of differentiating between sexes, being a man is not going to change this. On the part of men, the fact a crawling claw is in essence a necrotic, severed hand, not to mention the fact one has to travel to another plane to properly fuck it, few men have any particular sexual attraction to crawling claws, even among those depraved enough to fuck zombies and the like.

As such, there is little written on the sexual behaviour of crawling claws. Even treatises on what an impregnated crawling claw gives birth to are thin on the ground. Assumptions from its physiology can be made, however.

Like most undead with dead, ghostly wombs, a crawling claw is likely incredibly difficult to impregnate. When it does get pregnant, however, a crawling claw likely gives birth to something ethereal, despite its corporeal body. An infant ghost that immediately passes into the afterlife may be one option, but given that the ethereal form may be made of pure necromantic force, its offspring may simply be a mass of negative energy, similar to a will-o’-wisp.

Thanks to the roaming nature of men and their varying popularity, many men will find themselves having to take at least a few lives as a matter of survival. As such, most men’s hands are eligible to become crawling claws. Dead men are generally hidden away to avoid necromancers laying claim upon them and those male corpses that necromancers do find are usually animated in their entirety however, meaning that male crawling claws are generally only made from the severed limbs of living men or from men who died in ways that made the rest of their body unrecoverable. A living man with a crawling claw rarely suffers a diminishment in sex drive, but male crawling claws, separated from their host, are rarely sexual beings.

Chapter 36: Cyclops

Arguably the most resembling a true giant out of all the giant kin, cyclopes are outed by their singular eye and complete rejection of the Ordning, the social structure that true giants live by. Though most agree that the first cyclopes were born of giant goddesses besides Annam and Othea, their exact lineage is a mystery, lost to the mists of time with help from the cyclopes’ total disregard for the past along with anything not immediately effecting them.

Large Scale Rustics

Unlike many simple-minded giant kin, cyclopes seldom turn to a raiding lifestyle and usually cause no problem for those that live near them so long as they are left alone. A cyclops feels little need for luxury. For food, most cyclopes keep vast herds of sheep, pigs, or cattle, spending their days watching over the herds and driving off would be predators with crude weaponry like clubs made from uprooted trees and rocks thrown as best as they can with only a single eye.

To shelter both themselves and their animals, cyclopes seek out caves or ruins to take shelter in, or failing that, they construct their own simple hideaway by stacking logs and stones atop each other. Bringing the herds in before sundown, and sealing the entrance with a boulder, a cyclops sleeps among the squalor and disarray of her animals with no complaint.

As one may expect, cyclopes are rarely gifted with technological knowhow, with most tools they have being made out of wood and stone while they wear little but loincloths and occasional breast bands made out of wool or hide. A cyclops will make use of metal when she finds it, but most metal objects are too small to be anything but decoration. A cyclops rarely distinguishes between value of metals, so a necklace of shells and silver coins is likely to also feature worthless bent cutlery and the like. Such jewellery is likely the hight of cyclopean culture.

Untraditional Pragmatists

Being so focused on their immediate lives, along with the livelihood of their herds, few cyclopes place much stock in what doesn’t directly affect them, such as magic and the goddesses. Cyclopes are rarely seen to pray or erect shrines to the giant goddesses. Indeed, many cyclopes fail to even name any of the goddesses that are supposed to watch over them.

If circumstances change however, and the supernatural intrudes of a cyclops’ simple life, she will change her behaviour to suit it. Cyclopes are not averse to using a magic item as a tool or weapon should it prove a benefit and they can figure out how it works. Likewise, should a being of extreme magical power make itself known to a cyclops as a potential aid or threat, she will employ whatever methods she sees as cost effective to gain its blessing or avoid its wrath. It is for this reason that cyclopes are quite vulnerable to falling in with a cult, acting as a walking centre of giant might and devastation in exchange for relatively minor boons or a reprieve from perceived destruction.

Unfortunately for cyclopes, they are not particularly decerning creatures. Trivial displays of magic or even moderately talented slight of hand and performance can convince most cyclopes that they are dealing with a being of deific power. Such con-artistry can swiftly gain a mere mortal, that a cyclops could realistically crush like an insect, that same cyclops’ reverence and fear. Many adventurers of the past have used such tricks to gain free passage through a cyclops’ territory or extracted favours. Some have lived lives of rural gods for a time, but this is a dangerous game. Though straightforward and simpleminded, a cyclops isn’t entirely stupid, with time she will realise her ruler is not all they claim to be and their rage at being deceived will likely drive her to destroy them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Cyclopes

In general, cyclopes are isolationist creatures, enjoying the solitude of themselves and their herds. Still, most cyclopes begrudgingly understand the benefits of a community and thus usually settle no more than a day’s walk from others of their kind, with which to trade, seek mutual defence, and engage in basic socialisation.

A cyclops also calls upon this network when she feels the need to have offspring. Generally, a cyclops looking to breed will head out to another of her kind she is familiar with, laden with gifts, such as dried meat, cheese, livestock, tools, and jewellery. It may take several such visits to convince a prospective partner to mate, mostly because the recipient of the gifts is the one who is usually impregnated and the gift giver seldom sticks around, leaving her to raise their child alone.

Though it may seem crude, there is a degree of romance among cyclopes. Along with gifts, cyclopes show off and admire each other’s formidable strength. A particularly strong cyclops will likely receive more suitors while as a suitor she can likely offer her superior lineage as an incentive to accept her.

Cyclopes have an understandably long gestation of around eleven months due to their size, but once born a young cyclops grows astoundingly fast. Reaching adolescence at around six years of age, most young cyclopes are sent away at this tender age, with only a simple weapon, a small herd, and the clothes on her back to find a new place to settle. Though independent at this time, most, cyclopes don’t seek to mate for themselves until they reach their full bulk at around thirty.

Men to Cyclopes

Unlike true giants, cyclopes put little stock in the value of a pure bloodline, and are as such as pragmatic with sex as they can be with most other things. Like most creatures of an agricultural lifestyle, the most common male a cyclops is likely to come across is a male beast in her herd, such as a bull or ram. Most cyclopes are happy with the how having a male causes her herd to grow faster. Since cyclopes habitually sleep among their livestock, it is usually only a matter of time until the male beast tries to fuck its shepherd. Accepting the sexual pleasure, it is only later that the cyclops discovers that the beast lets her give birth to yet more livestock, a bonus she embraces.

When it comes to men that aren’t animals, cyclopes tend to be a little more cautious. If they assume that they will give birth to a member of a humanoid man’s species, she will likely refuse, not wanting to be stuck with such a small, weak baby. However, if a cyclops can be convinced of the fact that she will give birth to another cyclops or not be impregnated at all, she may accept in exchange for gifts, particularly appropriately sized metal tools that others of her kind would struggle to gift her.

Men can get an advantage however if they can display magical power. Fearing magical power, a cyclops can be easily cowed into sexual submission by a few flashy spells. A less rapacious method is to offer a form of magical service, securing an entrance boulder with an arcane lock, or magically healing a wound, these sorts of actions can normally impress her into mating. Some cyclopes will even be excited to fuck a man with magical powers, hoping to have some of the magic be inherited by her child.

Being giant kin, male cyclopes are incredibly rare and little recorded. From what is known, a male cyclops typically becomes a chieftain of sorts by gaining the sexual loyalty of the female giant kin around him. A male cyclops’ goals were usually little more than trying to fuck all his subject, their herds, and any female being he can restrain. What the non-cyclops children of a male cyclops looks like is somewhat lost, from other giant kin, we can predict that such children would be bigger and stronger than normal. Some sources refer to tribes of one eyed humans, orcs, and goblinoids cropping up in the wake of a male cyclops’ rule, but hard evidence is difficult to confirm.

Chapter 37: Darkmantle

A small, silent predator, darkmantles fly silently through the dark despite their squidlike build. With hardly a sound, a darkmantle can strike with horrifying accuracy. Alone or in a swarm, darkmantles tend to quietly pick off stragglers in a group, making them seem to vanish from the face of the world. In caves or dark, shadowy dungeons, many an adventurer has been lost between a darkmantle’s tits.

Gloom Stalkers

Wherever there is stone, a darkmantle can hide with consummate ease. A darkmantle can alter the texture of her hide at will and change its colour to a range of greys, blacks, whites, and browns. As such, by simply pressing her tits into a stone surface and holding on with her tentacles, a darkmantle can perfectly resemble a natural rock formation. From this position, a darkmantle can wait days for suitable prey to appear, an approach which they are uniquely gifted at detecting.

When fully open, the sensory organs that ring a darkmantle’s head can resemble large, pupilless eyes. In fact, they are tympanic membranes, ears, the darkmantle’s true eyes being almost too small to see and useless for detecting anything beyond the difference between light and dark. Even when fully closed, a darkmantle’s ears can pinpoint the location a creature by its breath in a silent cave. When the darkmantle unfurls itself from the rock to stealthily peruse, her ears open fully, working in conjunction with ultrasonic clicks to form a detailed image of her prey and surroundings.

Flying in close, the darkmantle strikes her unsuspecting prey. As opposed to any usual weapons like teeth or claws, a darkmantle prefers to kill with her breasts, applying pressure with her tentacles. Though she can eventually crush the life out of most creatures by grabbing onto their body, a darkmantle prefers to envelop her prey’s head when she has the opportunity, blinding and restricting its ability to call for help as she suffocates it to death.

Spewing Shadows

For the most part, darkmantles use their own silence, their stony disguise, and the lightless nature of their preferred homes to sneak up on prey and avoid predation. If they are noticed however, darkmantles have a unique backup solution, essentially a mystic aerial version of an aquatic squid’s ink defence.

Darkmantles possess, under their tentacles, a unique organ, apparently able to siphon and store energy directly from the Shadowfell a dark and eerie planar reflection of the Material Plane. If sufficient energy is on hand, a darkmantle may begin to radiate this energy as darkness so impenetrable that even the sensitive eyes of Underdark creatures cannot see within it and no natural (and few magical) lights can pierce through. Navigating by echolocation, a darkmantle has no issue avoiding attack or locking onto prey in the shadows that envelop her, allowing her to slip away with ease, or grab prey without a struggle.

Having a natural link to the Shadowfell, while an adaptive boon, may have been what drove the darkmantles underground in the first place, for the influence of the dark realm makes darkmantles arbour sunlight. So strong is the draw darkmantles have from their siphons, they are one of the few truly living creatures to willingly call the Shadowfell home. Though usually serving to role of bats in the Shadowfell’s ecosystem, some intelligent natives of the realm keep darkmantles as pets, work animals and companions.

Sex and Sexuality Among Darkmantles

For darkmantles, reproduction is quite an brief and simple affair. Pressing their tits together while exploring each other’s bodies with their tentacles, darkmantles tend to practice simultaneous impregnation knocking each other up with six to eight eggs each. A day or so later, the darkmantle lays her eggs among the crags of a rock and abandons them.

Though each about the size of a hen’s egg, the odd shapes, hard texture, and rocky colours of the egg makes them look more akin to pebbles and debris, keeping the eggs safe from predators. Around ten days after being laid, a dark mantle egg hatches into a black, sluglike larva. A herbivore, these larvae survive by scarping fungi and lichen from rocks. As the days go by, small tentacles appear around the larval darkmantle’s tits, slowly lengthening as the larva grows until several months later, she had gained her adult form, the ability to fly, and a taste for meat.

One interesting factor of darkmantle sexuality relates to her habituation to the Shadowfell. For most mortal creatures, exposure to the Shadowfell slowly drains hope, vitality, and emotional drive, making it hard for most creature to motivate themselves into mating. Perhaps because such inurement was necessary to utilise the Shadowfell’s power as a species, darkmantles show no drop in sexual interest no matter how long they spend in the Shadowfell.

Some archanists and beat tames (typically not for sexual reasons) attempt to breed darkmantles that channel their power from somewhere instead of the Shadowfell, such as the Feywild or Upper Planes. Some however believe that, if freed from the passion sapping energies of the Shadowfell without breeding out the natural countermeasures, these hypothetical fey or lightmantles may end up being some of the most uncontrollably horny creatures to ever exist.

Men to Darkmantles

Generally, darkmantles care little for the idea of masculinity, if a man seems to be vulnerable prey, a darkmantle will attack him just as readily as she would a woman. Reproduction is seldom on a darkmantle’s mind when she senses a humanoid, even if they are a man.

However, while they can be a frightening opponent should they get the drop on somebody, darkmantles are in fact fairly vulnerable should the tables be turned, especially when the one is equipped with a sufficiently strong light spell. As such, many men find darkmantles to be incidental monsters to fuck on journeys through the Underdark.

In the Shadowfell, fucking darkmantles is not only an enjoyable activity for a man, but possibly a very real lifeline. To combat the crushing feelings of isolation, dispassion, and gloom the Shadowfell inflicts, many men become especially desperate to fuck something. In the Shadowfell however, most sexual candidates are unfortunately undead, often serving to drain the light from a man’s soul even further should he try to fuck them. Darkmantles are not only living creatures, but are also capable of retaining their animalistic passion when fucked, helping to reinvigorate a man who catches them.

Chapter 38: Death Knight

Notes:

WARNING: this chapter is about a corporeal undead. though sentient and largely of its past life's personality, its still a walking dead body (mostly bones). I include the undead for the sake of completeness, but if it makes you uncomfortable, skip this chapter.

The oath of a Paladin is a deeply personal expression of faith that makes the paladin’s soul shine like a beacon. Thanks to this, if a paladin breaks their oath and falls to evil, there are commonly dark forces just waiting to offer them the chance at vengeance against the world and goddesses that scorned them so.

Those fallen paladins that accept such dark pacts are transformed into an undying monstrosity. Though her skeletal form, along with her ghostly tits and uterus, are normally hidden under plate armour and helm, naught can hide the malice that radiates from the pinpricks that serve as the death knight’s eyes, burning away what’s left of her humanity until all that remains is a drive to kill all that which still lives and loves.

Divine Warrior Corrupted

Though plagued by the constrictive grasp of undeath, a death knight retains the mind and memories of their mortal life. As such, a death nights is no simple minded zombie, throwing themselves at the living with blind aggression. A death night keeps the tactical and martial knowledge that they gained in their holy knowledge, twisting those talents to the service of evil. Only the most esteemed mortal warriors can hope to best a death knight in single combat. At the head of an undead horde or fiendish host, a death knight can bring forth unity and direction to devastate mortal armies.

Despite the major fall from grace, death knights tend to retain many of the divine powers of a mortal paladin, once fuelled by conviction to an oath, now borne of their dark hatred. Given this unsavoury source, their own selfishness, and their separation from life’s wellspring, death knights cannot summon forth their power to heal and repair, but are still more than capable of magically shaking their enemies’ will, charging their blades with eldritch power, and casting fourth explosions of dread power and otherworldly hellfire.

It is these powers that strike fear into mortal hearts as a death knight can wait in hiding for centuries, amassing power and armies before riding out on undead steeds and nightmares, fiends and undead at their back, laying waste to all for the sake of a burnt out husk of a kingdom to rule over.

Sin Bound

Though mighty and merciless, the forces of good will triumph from time to time, slaying a death knight in battle. For the most part however, this victory is hollow. The fall of a righteous paladin to a death knight is one bound by the breaking of an oath, normally in some titanic moral failing that scars not only the knight’s soul, but the world around them. For as long as those scars remain the death knight may find no rest.

No matter how many times they fall, how sure their foe is of their demise, or how utterly the remains are destroyed, a death knight will always rise again, normally within a matter of years and often in quite unpredictable fashion. A death knight may simply claw her way out of some pit, bound to her history, a naked and unarmed undead. Others may linger as a wrathful spirit or malign intelligence in her equipment, just waiting to possess a mortal, slowly substituting their personality with their own, as the living flesh rots away, leaving mind and body to become her anew.

Only when the sins for which a death knight was damned are amended can a death knight be permanently killed. This often requires an arduous quest into the undead paladin’s mortal life, culminating in feats such as setting the restless spirit of a grieving bride to rest, reestablishing once hallowed grounds, or defeating the monster from which the mortal knight fled.

Sometimes, such adventurers gain help from an unexpected source. Though most are too arrogant and prideful to reflect on their wrenched state, death knights retain their sentience and thus a capability for introspection. Occasionally, when confronted by the monster they have become, a death knight my recoil as they fill with remorse and a wish to atone. Though rarely able to bring themselves to overcome the evil undeath breeds in them completely, these death knights may offer subtle help in freeing them from their curse.

A death knight’s distinct lack of humility is not the only barrier to their redemption however. The dark powers that make death knights, demon lords, archdevils, and death gods, see their undead generals as significant investments in time and eldritch power and thus take precautions against their loss. Mostly through intermediaries, these patrons guard areas of significance to the death knight’s mortal past, quash stories that hint at their founding sins, and most importantly, manipulate a death knight’s mind to keep their thoughts on the path of evil.

Sex and Sexuality Among Death Knights

For the most part, a death knight’s interests in sex are minimal. With only the ghostly impression of breasts and a pussy and no ability to impregnate or get pregnant by another woman, sexual congress falls to the bottom of their priorities. In truth, most death knights avoid sex for the simple reason that stripping off their armour forces them to confront the undead monster they are underneath, prompting waves of disgust from their once mortal mind.

Still, being of a mortal mind, lust is not an unknown emotion to a death knight. Indeed, some death knights have lust to blame for the actions that ultimately lead to their foul resurrection. Though still repulsed by their own bodies, particularly lustful death knights seek out other means to sate their desire. The lair of a death knight may be decorated with strangely erotic paintings and statuary, along with more macabre décor like living prisoners hung nude from walls, just out of the zombie’s murderous reach, or miserable sprits bade to fuck each other for their commander’s entertainment.

Men to Death Knights

Though the intensity varies somewhat thanks to history, most death knights are unfavourable towards living men. Some merely consider themselves superior, but many have lived long enough to have some personal gripe. Some death knights even owe their downfall to men, failing their oaths by misandry or over-attraction to a man and blame their subsequent existence on men as a whole.

Despite these differences, Death knights have been known to occasionally bet pregnant by a mortal man, normally after getting raped. While sperm usually struggles to persist in an ethereal womb of necrotic power, some of its life energy may sometimes merge with the undead power of the death knight, resulting in a skeletal baby being born after a period of time similar the death knight’s race in life. Despite coming from such a powerful source, the infant mass of bones are little different to the offspring of living men and normal skeletons, also refusing to grow.

From time to time, men also become paladins. Occasionally, these men fail in their oaths and fall to evil. It is only on rare occasions however that male oath breakers are offered the path to become a death knight. Like other male undead, male death knights quickly loose a lot of their will once they realise their ability to impregnate is gone. As such, it is a constant uphill struggle for a dark power to motivate their male death knight and distract them from the path of redemption and freedom from their hollow second lives.

Chapter 39: Demilich

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter concerns a (largely) corporeal undead. I put this chapter in for the sake of completeness, but if undead aren't your thing you may want to give this chapter a miss.

A lich is a mighty and cunning undead wizard, granted immortality at the cost of mortal souls. However, a lich that wishes to continue its perpetual existence must continue to feed the souls of the innocent into their arcane phylactery. If a lich, through the mental wear immortality wracks on a mortal soul or simple inability to keep up with demand, fails to keep the souls flowing, their undead body will degrade and eventually collapse into dust, leaving naught behind but a mouldering skull.

Though without souls a phylactery cannot preserve the mental of physical integrity of its lich, it does serve to prevent the lich’s ultimate destruction. In this sorry state, the lich’s spirit continues to reside within their skull, unable to act move, or even think but as reaction to unwanted intruders. This is the fate of a demilich.

Ruined Arcana

Without external stimulation, the demilich rests in a mental void. However, the necrotic energies that give a semblance of life to the demilich are sensitive to intrusions and hostile to the living. As such, mortal adventurers hoping to pick a deceased lich’s tomb will find they still have a fearsome foe to combat.

With a howl that can kill the frail on the spot, the demilich’s skull rises on a spiralling pillar of powdered bone, from which her breasts and reproductive organs form. Though the demilich usually lacks the presence of mind cast any of the vast library of spells it knew as a lich, the sheer arcane power it accrued manifests in a litany magical powers to drain the life from a living soul, fly through the air with untouchable agility, and lay the most powerful of curses upon their foes.

These magics also make the crumbling skull a lot tougher than it looks, with most mortal weapons bouncing off a demilich like it was made of adamantine. Even if a demilich is felled, it will bring no permanent end to the its suffering or the danger it poses. Like a lich at full power, a demilich with its phylactery intact will be restored in a matter of days.

Undead Acencion

Though being reduced to a near mindless demilich is a fate most liches understandably wish to avoid, some know that, when appropriately anticipated, demilichdom need not be the sombre end of a lich’s terrible reign. Pioneered by Acererak, the great lich prepared for her transformation by setting specially made artifacts, soul gems, into her skull, namely into her eye sockets and in the place of some teeth.

With the gems and a foul ritual, Acererak set her mind free, free to explore the planes and claim their secrets like no bodied entity could, with only the finest spiritual tether tying her to the demilich she left behind. In the absence of her guiding intellect, Acererack’s skull lingers in some forgotten tomb. When this sanctuary is disturbed, the demilich can use the fitted soul gems to trap the souls of any mortal that dares to awaken it. From there, the demilich can feed the trapped soul into its phylactery. With only one soul, a demilich can return to her true lich form, body and mind reconstituting to attend to whatever business came up in their mental absence.

Though Acererak is the pioneer of this form of ascension, she has attained many students, and admirers in the form of lesser liches. These supporters seek out Acererak’s methods in the hopes of creating soul gems of their own and following her methodology.

Sex and Sexuality Among Demiliches

Being barely sentient undead with a natural resentment for life and the living, a demilich is not a sexual being. Demiliches do not mate and while dormant are little more than a skull, only showing the impression of tits and a pussy in a morass of swirling dust when awakened. Unlike a true lich, demiliches don’t even have the presence of mind to feign sexual interest, being capable of little more than expressing their hatred for all that lives in the act of snuffing life out.

Men to Demiliches

As living beings, demiliches naturally despise mortal men, expressing this hatred directly through violence. Whether their virility’s potential to create so much more life makes demiliches hate men more or if they even have the cognitive ability to differentiate man from woman is debated, but those men who have encountered demiliches and survived have reported a distinct bias against them. This could of course be a distortion from simple male arrogance.

On the off chance a man manages to fuck a demilich (a reportedly unsatisfying experience) and beat the odds to get her pregnant, an interesting process happens afterwards. A few days after impregnation, the interaction between life and unlife in a demilich’s womb produces just enough flow of spiritual power for the demilich to return to her true lich state. If however the lich fails to feed any souls into her phylactery before her baby is due, she will return to her demilich state, leaving behind her skull, dust, and a barely sentient, toddler sized, ghoul-like undead creature. Thanks to the greater intelligence and desperation for souls an impregnated demilich can present, it is monumentally inadvisable to impregnate a demilich.

Male demiliches are rare for the simple reason that men rarely seek to become liches, since the transformation guarantees an eternity of infertility. Some of the rare few male liches have been known to retreat into demilichdom as a permanent escape from their endless frustration.

Chapter 40: Demons

From a deep wound in the fabric of reality, the infinite and terrible layers of the Abyss, demons belch fourth in unending hordes. Evil without any form of restraint, the fiends of the Abyss are chaos and corruption incarnate. Even those foolish enough to truck with devils hesitate to endure any interaction with even the least of demons. From the lowliest abyssal wretch to the foulest titans of the dreaded plane, each and every demon believes with full conviction that the planes will one day exist under their singular rule, sculpted to their insane desires.

Though the Abyss, in its chaos, spews out endless varieties of fiends, a few broadly similar “species” are known to occur with notable frequency. The most noteworthy of these varieties will be discussed in the following chapters, but this chapter covers demons in general.

Planar Corruptors

For the most part, demons are thankfully bound to the lower planes, their wretched forms unable to enter the mortal world under their own power. Much of the demon race’s energy is thus spend in dreadful fiendish warfare, both among themselves, and between other evil planes, seeking to advance their influence through the planes. The main blockade against these endeavours are the ordered legions of the devils from the Nine Hells.

As infernal tactics and cohesion duel against the wild tide of the Abyss on an uncountable number of fronts, demon and devil fight an eternal stalemate known as the Blood War. Most demons relish this combat, especially when it takes place on another plane, for there a demon has no reason to fear its demise. A demon who is killed outside of the Abyss will reform at some random location in the Abyss a matter of months or years later, little worse for wear.

Outside of these conflicts that rock the Lower Planes, demons are also on the constant lookout for ways to get into the Material Plane. Portals are rare, more often a demon seeks the aid of mortals, in the form of some deluded cult or fatally overconfident summoner looking for their service. For the most part, such demons will wish to simply tear their summoner asunder before proceeding to sow the seeds of corruption and devastation in as long a trail of destruction as they can, with the ultimate hope of plunging a world into its doom.

Lords of Doom

By their very nature, demons are selfish, independent, and disdainful of any attempt to control them, this of course makes demons a largely disorganised lot. However, since being slain in the Abyss spells the ultimate destruction of most demons, a stronger demon can compel a certain number of weaker demons to serve them under the threat of instant annihilation.

Demons grow stronger through exposure to chaos and destruction. A demon who wallows in violence and corruption for centuries, who mercilessly crushes those weaker than her and schemes against those more powerful may be rewarded by the Abyss itself by a transformation into new form, equipped with greater power and thus the ability to control more of her inferiors through terror and guile.

Most of the time, demons ascend to a certain modicum of strength before the constant infighting of the Abyss destroys them. Some however reach truly unfathomable levels of power. Breaking free of the faceless abyssal hordes, these demons take on unique forms and monikers as near goddess-like powers fall into their hands. Demon lords command almost endless masses of lesser demons in their thrall, shape whole layers of the Abyss to their liking, and strike terror and madness into mortal minds with their very names. Demogorgon, Princess of Demons, Orcus, Lady of Undeath, and Baphomet, Princess of Beasts, are among the most well known Demon Lords, but as powers rise and fall in the abyssal tumult, the exact number of demon lords cannot be known, nor can the impossible density of plans these titans hatch in their bid to tear the universe down and reform the rubble by their dark designs.

Sex and Sexuality Among Demons

Like most fiends of the Lower Planes, demons do not reproduce sexually. Thanks to the raw, hostile chaos of the Abyss, new demons are being spat out of various pits and dark recesses of the abyss unbidden at a near constant rate. Compared to this unfathomable mass spawned unbidden from the Abyss itself, a comparably tiny fraction of demons trace their existence back to a corrupted mortal soul, so foul and corrupted by chaos that not even the Nine Hells could snag it. Ultimately a demon’s origin matters little, for most newborn demons are pretty much instantly destroyed by stronger and more experienced demons before they can achieve all that much. This does however mean that it is the most brutal, adaptable, unflinching demons that slip through the cracks and find a place among demon-kind.

Seemingly in exchange for this near infinite generation, true demons cannot reproduce with one another. If, for whatever dark reason, a demon desires progeny, they must mate with a mortal creature. If given access, any demon of a more sexual bent may choose to rape an animal and force it to birth half fiendish beasts of a more brutal and fearsome disposition, but it is usually only more powerful demons that bother trying to impregnate a mortal humanoid be they cultist or sacrifice, and only when they have use of a cambion servant. When a lesser demon is impregnated, or far more likely impregnates a mortal, the resultant offspring, known as an abyssal tiefling, is about as dependant on a parent as any infant mortal, is less powerful than a cambion, and has no particular evil leaning in their untampered mortal soul.

While unable to breed one another, this is not to say sex is absent from a demon’s regular life. Though sexuality varies from demon to demon, rape is an excellent way to express power over a lesser for which a demon may still have use of without destroying them or lessening their effectiveness. As such, many more powerful demons will force themselves on any minion, prisoner, or slave they wish to, both for personal enjoyment and to project authority.

Unsurprisingly, most demons have a powerful sadistic and dominant streak while harbouring nothing even comparable to love for their so called “lovers”. Some foul rituals of demonic cults involve cultists having sexual congress with demons, in which case, the demon may be bound under threat of serve harm or even destruction to hold back somewhat, but when acting under their own power, a demon will terrify, injure, maim, and possibly even kill their sexual partners. In addition to this lust for violence and terror, most demons are drawn to fetishes so foul that mortals cannot even begin to comprehend.

Men to Demons

To an extent even further than they do for ordinary mortals and the rest of the multiverse, most demons utterly despise mortal men. A demon may hold a man prisoner for bragging rights as to the man’s rarity or perhaps feign attraction to a man while imprisoned or otherwise in need of a gullible mortal’s assistance, but ultimately, a demon encountering a man is mostly considering how best to tear him apart and take his cock and skull as trophies.

The main factor to a demons particular hatred of men comes from jealousy. Demons pride themselves on their mutability, their power to become whatever they wish by their own power and force of will, but the one thing a demon cannot become is a man. The demons spontaneously generated by the Abyss, the vast majority, are all female. Of those mortal souls that end up joining the demon ranks by shear corruption, vanishingly few are male. By Nymphona’s decree, not even the greatest of Demon Lords can be rid of their tits and pussies and change sex.

In a demon’s eyes, a man is a creature that can rape with incredible efficacy, bending and impregnating the wombs of those around him with ease, even if they are superior to him in power. This ability angers demons to no end and, if they cannot be a man, they will simply destroy all those that got such an honour.

As mentioned, the only place a male demon can arise from is among the corrupted souls of male mortals whose deeds of evil and disorder have barred them from every single other plane. Most male demons are killed in the maelstrom of violence that is the Abyss, their masculinity placing a target upon them for envious females. Some male demons are canny and ruthless enough to escape and overcome the slaughter, however, male demons suffer similar reproductive limitations to other demons, being unable to impregnate other fiends. Clever and horny demons who know of this aspect may bind weak male demons to there service to enjoy the pleasures of fucking a man without the risks of pregnancy, thus affording the male demon a modicum of safety and a chance to grow strong enough to escape and look after himself. Male demons that manage to grow powerful in their own right tend to collect all manner of female life, churning through women and female creatures at an alarming rate while showing little interest to the world outside their harems, thus making their notoriety limited.

Chapter 41: Balor

Shadows lengthen, flames rise, and brave women shudder at the utterance of the word balor. A pure incarnation of the carnage of the Abyss, balors stand on the precipice between the Demon Lords and the endless throngs of the demonic hordes. Wreathed in flame and wielding mighty arcane weaponry, a balor tears all who stand against it apart, leaving nought but ashes and the echoes of screams.

Vanguard of Destruction

The verry essence of the doom the Abyss promises to bring, balors are no more comfortable than right in the heat of battle. Though exulting most in warfare against the hated devils or despised occasional detachments of celestial forces, a balor is more than willing to tear her way through any living thing, opposing demons included.

Befitting their greatness, a balor typically wields magical weapons. The usual form these weapons take is a titanic blazing whip and a matching sword, cracking with the force of a storm. A balor lashes out with the whip, dragging any foe not immediately incinerated into the range of her cloak of fire and her blade. Of course, given the great variety of the abyss, some balors take up different arms.

Regardless of weaponry, a balors most powerful advantage is her hatred and her fury. Fearless beyond mortal understanding, a balor flies or teleports herself directly into the heart of battle engulfing all that surrounds her in the flames of her rage. Once a balor is engaged in the annihilation of her foes, virtually nothing can stop her until nothing around her so much as breathes.

Even if a foe is monumentally powerful, or lucky enough to fell a balor, she will with her final breath, lay waste to her surroundings in a baptism of unholy fire. Outside of battle, balor can be resourceful and canny, canny enough to preserve a portion of their essence in safe location at least. In this way, not even her demise in the Abyss is enough to keep most balors down for long.

Lordlings and Usurpers

Driven to deadly combat, balors are strongly in tune to the ebb and flow of the major battles of the planes, particularly the Blood War. In preparation to join these battles, a balor will claim a stretch of a contested layer of the Abyss, ruling as an iron fisted tyrant. From there, the balor presses demons such as marilith, glabrezu, and nalfeshnee demanding they raise for her armies of lesser demons to lead.

While all this playing queen plays to a balor’s ego, all of it goes to serve her goal of warfare. The mighty roars of a balor commander shake even the sturdiest infernal legions, and impart her rage into each of her demonic troops, from her direct commanders, all the way down to the lowliest dregs that were dragged kicking and screaming to the front lines. Though a storm of blind fury in battle, balors also display a tactical genius that rivals and sometimes outclasses the brilliance of Hell’s ordered plans.

Despite their martial brilliance and power, there is one force to which a balor must sometimes bow. Demon Lords often keep a balor or two as generals, powerful fiends to act in their stead in battles they cannot personally attend. At the same time, having a balor at one’s beck and call is a power move that begrudgingly impresses other Demon Lords.

With all the benefits a balor grants a Demon Lord, one would logically assume a Demon Lord would want to press as many as she could into her service. This rarely comes to pass however, for the simple reason that most Demon Lords in power today were at one point balors themselves.

 As such, the Demon Lords know that servitude grates on a balor, stoking their rage to the point that they cannot help but scheme against their mistress, plotting on how to escape with as much of her ruler’s power as possible to ascend to the rank of Demon Lord in her own right. Demon Lords thus know that every additional balor they press into service is another potential traitor or assassin to be mindful of, a wannabe usurper to keep an eye on. It thus pays to be cautious with how many balors to control at once.

Sex and Sexuality Among Balors

Like most demons, a balor enjoys sex, particularly rape, as a show of dominance over all that is inferior to her. In the Abyss, a balor may consider everything that is not a Demon Lord or another of her kind to be in this category, leaving her free to defile as she pleases.

A balor considers the rape of potential commander to be an establishment of rank, done specifically to frighten and humiliate her new servant before any ideas of rebellion can ferment. A balor may take one of the commanders under her as a bride. In parody of the romantic connotations of the term, a balor’s bride is the one of her underlings she considers the most troublesome, who is therefore singled out to provide her the bulk of her sexual services in an effort to degrade her entirely.

When it comes to lesser demons, a balor rarely takes the time to determine merit or obedience, simply seeing them as toys to be sent off into battle or brutally raped on her whims. A lesser demon who feels their balor commander’s grip upon them knows they are about to be subjected to the fullest extent of her sadistic tastes, but if they resist even slightly, they face total destruction. Most compliant victims are eventually tossed aside, maimed, broken, and only possibly alive.

Balors rarely concern themselves with fucking non-demons, their hatred eclipsing their lust entirely. Still, a balor may occasionally choose to violate a notable foe, an infernal commander or angel, mid battle, in order to crush the resolve of the remaining foes. When it comes to mortals, balors seldom feel the need to fuck such puny creatures, but encourage rape along with murder and destruction among her deranged cultists.

Men to Balors

While other demons may attempt to feign attraction or leverage his lust to their advantage, a balor is completely upfront about her feelings towards men. This plainness is not a result of unintelligence or a lack of silver tongue, but simply because the hatred a man inspires is too much for a female balor to contain.

In the millennia a balor has existed, she will have likely encountered men on multiple occasions and, from some, suffered all manner of setbacks the level of power on which she now resides, from simple defeats to the humiliating burden of pregnancy. Thanks to these roadblocks on her path to greatness and the frustration that despite all her power, masculinity is a force she will forever be denied, a balor’s loathing of men as a whole can be neither restrained nor disguised.

For most men like most mortals in general, an encounter with a balor would be one of the most horrible death sentences they could be served. However, there are a few, legendary accounts of balors being defeated by mortal hands and among those, a few talk of men who successfully made a balor their bitch, for a time at least. Impregnating a balor is not suggested, though she will deeply resent having to carry it in her womb, a balor is often pragmatic enough to make use of the cambion she gives birth to, often training it to become its own father’s assassin.

The ascension of a males mortal soul from pathetic manes all the way up to a mighty balor is an incredibly rare event. It is so rare in fact, that in the infinite layers of the Abyss, it is rumoured that only twenty four male souls have achieved the feat. The actions of these demons are unknown, though legends state they are focussed more of fulfilling their own sexual appetites. The male balor are said to keep harems of all manner of female life, demons, devils, monsters, mortals, and even a few angels kept trapped for their pleasures. Strange, forbidden creatures are said to be born from these balors’ constant rutting, especially with their celestial prisoners.

Chapter 42: Barlgura (Art)

The Abyss is a plane of infinite layers, no one layer quite like the other. As such, the Abyss contains the darkest and most hostile reflections of every environ the Material Plane has to offer. This of course includes forests and jungles.

Compared to the jungles of the Abyss, those jungles on the Material Plane are downright welcoming. In the abyssal rainforests, actively carnivorous plants, swamps of acidic blood, and fiendish insects who’s young consume a victim from the inside are ever-present threats, rendered trivial when compared to those demons that holler from the shadows and bound through the dark canopy above.

Resembling an ogre sized fiendish orangutan, the barlguras consider themselves masters of the abyssal jungles. Brutish and simpleminded, yet cunning in a few unexpected ways, a barlgura bullies anything she believes she can overpower, tearing gory trophies from most victims to decorate herself and the outer bounds of her territory.

Jungle Skulker

With fists large enough to completely demolish a human torso, powerful tusked jaws, and a body so thick with muscles to let her be as broad as she is tall, a barlgura is doubtlessly built to dish out destruction. Indeed, a barlgura’s most common hobby is tearing any lesser demon that dares cross her path limb from limb.

However, barlguras are not the simple, straightforward thugs they first appear to be. Earning her status as the jungle’s ruler, a barlgura fears none of the myriad dangers of her preferred habitat, instead knowing how to best take advantage of each. Running or clambering through branches, a barlgura can leap several times her body length in a single bound, crossing between branches with astounding grace, despite her size.

Likewise, a barlgura can move with surprising stealth, not revealing her massive presence until she is right on top of her prey. Uncharacteristically for such a bestial demon, barlguras can supplement their ambush tactics with naturally occurring magics. When cover fails, a barlgura can simply turn herself invisible or disguise herself as a different kind of being, lulling prey into a false sense of security. When prey tries to flee, the Barlgura may bend their perception or command the fiendish plants of the jungle to reach out and hold them still so she can close the distance.

It is thanks to a barlgura’s expertise in ambush that even more powerful demons tread the jungles with caution. At the same time however, many more intelligent demons see the benefit of capturing barlgura and pressing them into service as formidable shock troops.

Bands of Bullies

Though undoubtably a terrible foe for a mortal adventurer and some of the best adapted demons for their jungle home, barlguras are not by any means the most powerful of demons. While a barlgura’s home advantage may give her an edge when there is only minor disparity in strength, but there are many demons for which an assault from a lone barlgura would be little more of an annoyance than a biting fly, the swatting of which would likely see the foolish barlgura killed.

While a barlgura’s stealth and magical abilities normally serve her well enough to avoid becoming these powerful visitor’s prey, the prospect of allowing invaders to prosper in her territory can grate on a barlgura. To avoid the annoyance of permitting stronger demons to roam her jungle without consequence, a barlgura may deign to cooperate with others of her kind in a troop. A barlgura knows no trust, loyalty, or fondness for the members of her troop, troop members assault and bully each other near constantly, but so long as a member of the troop grants a barlgura the ability to kill greater foes, she will refrain from killing them outright.

Barlgura troops mark their territories and themselves with the torn off body parts of their past victims, rival troops know no kinship and one will murder and pillage from the other should an opening be found.

Sex and Sexuality Among Barlguras

In a troop of barlguras there is little organisation or leadership. With most barlguras so closely matched in power and unwilling to fight to the death while they can make use of one another, everyone expresses power over everyone at some point, with a barlgura who puts up with too much bullying eventually being killed for her weakness by the others.

While barlgura’s will trade titanic blows with one another as a matter of course, maiming a fellow barlgura limits her efficacy in combat and thus how much use can be made of her when real trouble shows up. As such, barlguras will typically use sexual domination to attempt to express superiority to another barlgura. As no barlgura is truly on top, every barlgura in a troop will typically have raped and been raped by every member of her troop on multiple occasions.

Generally, the intra-troop rape keeps a barlgura’s sexual frustration in check. So most creatures outside the troop a barlgura gets the upper hand of will be killed rather than fucked. One exception however is often the plants of her stretch of jungle. Thanks to the malice burning inside of them, many of the half-fiend trees and vines in the Abyss sport breasts and a pussy. Barlguras violently use these sexual organs to force the plants to bear seeds that grow into even more demonically infused plant life, making it even more hostile and thus an even greater weapon in the barlgura’s arsenal.

Men to Barlguras

Like most demons, barlguras resent men for their ability to be something they can’t. Lacking the wits, charm, or motive to be subtle about their feelings, a barlgura expresses her hatred for men through direct violence, attempting to pound a man into dust and viscera. This hatred also means that nothing short of magical compulsion or the threat of annihilation in the Abyss can convince a barlgura to fuck a man.

Despite being bulky and strong by human standards, a barlgura is not that rich in demonic power in the grand scheme of things. As such, barlguras give birth to slightly simian looking abyssal tieflings. With an eight month pregnancy being an unfortunate handicap already and the rigors of raising a helpless baby being even more challenging with no reward so far as a barlgura is concerned, a man should not trust the demon with the welfare of her child unless, again, they have means to mentally control or threaten the barlgura into compliance.

Male barlguras, being male, are hated and hunted by the females of their kind. Male barlguras thus tend to learn how to be particularly stealthy loners. To supplement their unsatisfied desire to kill, male barlguras instead find the vulnerable and isolated, demon or otherwise and rape them until their mind breaks. In this way, a male barlgura may end up with a troop of demons whose wills his cock has utterly ruined to his service.

Notes:

Big thanks to Draw&Nap for the art in this chapter. Check them out on Twitter/X https://twitter.com/draw_nap

Chapter 43: Chasme

Her approach being preceded by a constant sedative drone; a chasme resembles the unspeakable crossing of a humanoid and a horse-sized fly. Though as hateful of those that would push her around as any demon, a chasme tends to be too cowardly to directly rebel against greater demons. Chasme vent their frustration by subjecting others to similar or worse fates than themselves, making them talented taskmasters, torturers, and captors of other demons.

Demonic Parasites

Chasme demons tend not to be quite as bold as other denizens of the Abyss. This is not to say that chasmes don’t enjoy murder and mayhem, but they prefer to enact it on creatures they believe they can easily overpower. As such, chasmes tend to stay on the periphery of larger battles, flying or sticking to a wall just out of reach, waiting for injured combatants trying to flee on whom to descend and finish off.

Of all the vulnerable targets to assault, chasmes most love to attack mortals, especially those that try to flee. To creatures that are not demons, a chasme’s constant buzzing is not only unnerving but truly dangerous. Those unprepared to face the sound can be dropped into an enchanted sleep for several minutes. If they are lucky, a sleeping victim will awaken only briefly to the pain of a chasme consuming all of their blood. A chasme with more time on her hands, however, will take the time to capture her helpless victim and entertain herself for days by inflicting torture on them before finally letting them die.

Ever hopeful of mortals to torment, chasmes keep their compound eyes open for pathways to the Material Plane. Ideally, a chasme hopes to stumble across the rare open rift into the mortal world, which she can slip through with little influence. More commonly, a chasme finds herself in the Material Plane at the call of a summoner, normally an overconfident academic looking for insight into the Abyss from a “controllable” demon. In truth, while a chasme can exercise patience, she will be on the constant lookout for a means to escape, kill her summoner, and enact a reign of terror.

Deserter’s Bane

Befitting their chaotic nature, any form of structure among demons is tenuous at best, with weak demons obeying strong demons only under the threat of death. As such, as the demon who threatens them gets further away, servile demons may begin to act out or even abandon their posts in a mad dash for freedom.

Of course, a chasme desires personal freedom as strongly as any other demon, but for their strength, chasmes are among the most spineless of demons, and thus rarely engage in open rebellion against a powerful demonic master. Thanks to this “loyalty”, or as close as it comes among demons, greater demons typically entrust chasmes with the duty to keep other demons in line. This is a job they relish, for if they cannot be free, they can at least have the satisfaction of denying freedom to others.

Flitting between her mistress’ demonic hordes and slave pits, a chasme keeps track of the demonic warriors and prisoners therein, returning to their shared leader with reports of possible decent. When indentured demons flee, a swarm of chasmes is normally sent out to drag them back to be punished and thrown back into line.

This punishment is often handled by a chasme too. Relatively patient for a demon, a chasme can roll out a series of tortures that even demons dread, keeping dissidents in a continual state of agony for days on end in retribution for their crimes. Understandably, other demons despise chasmes. Most demons have had plans of escape foiled and tortures performed on them by a Chasme’s sharp eye and lust for any excuse to inflict pain. Even while appreciating their use in maintaining the cohesion of their armies, demonic commanders often consider the chasmes that serve them to be little more than cowardly vermin, instinctively blaming and lashing out at them for any failing in morale or obedience in their forces.

Sex and Sexuality Among Chasmes

Chasmes do enjoy the pain and humiliation they can inflict through rape. However, chasmes are also cautious to preserve their own wellbeing, so they will generally only rape a foe that is much weaker than them before killing them anyway. More often, however, it is a chasme being raped by her commander for the simple reason that the commander is frustrated and the chasme’s role causes her to endure much more time near the greater demon. Though a chasme knows well enough to accept and even thank her mistress for this treatment, on the inside she seethes.

One place a chasme gets to vent her frustration is on prisoners. Whether they be demonic, infernal, mortal, or anything else, be they weaker or stronger than her, the power of her mistress grants a chasme the authority to rape with little restraint. If they are reproductively capable of doing so, a chasme may even impregnate a victim with an abyssal tiefling, able to torture them with the strains of pregnancy and childbirth, followed by the anguish of one’s baby being in a demon torturer’s “care”.

Men to Chasmes

A demon of some shrewdness and level headedness, how a chasme reacts to a man depends largely on whether they perceive the man to be a threat to them or not. If a chasme believes a man to be significantly stronger than her or otherwise in possession of a concerning advantage, she may attempt to express an admiration of his masculinity and sexual capability, perhaps even offering a path to fucking other demons or female creatures more beautiful than her.

Most of the time, however, such offers are pure deception. Like most demons, rape and a four-month pregnancy from a man, only to give birth to an abyssal tiefling, is a dreaded fate, almost as bad as death. Threats of this fate swiftly bring a chasme’s true feelings to the surface.

Chasmes hate men, particularly mortal men, mostly for bringing their fear to the surface no matter where they are. A chasme can afford to fight more boldly outside of the Abyss, knowing that death will merely return her to the Abyss with no real harm done. On the other hand, a pregnancy inflicted by a man is inescapable once burdened, and until the baby is born and can be dealt with, a chasme is inescapably burdened.

Chapter 44: Dretch

Some of the lowliest, most pathetic creatures to be granted the title of demon, dretches swarm the Abyss like vermin. Ambling around in mobs of their ilk, the life of a dretch is one of constant fear and dissatisfaction at their own weakness, voiced in a chorus of unpleasant hoots and moans.

Contemptible Scum

Power is everything to demons. Therefore, no demon, even the pathetic dretches themselves, has anything but contempt for them. A dretch spends almost all of her free time in an impotent state of self-loathing. A dretch has the demonic will to live despite this, in the hopes that it will someday transform and escape its pitiful state.

To other demons, however, a dretch’s weakness combined with her kind’s near-limitless numbers make them an easy target for a greater demon’s wrath. Many demons kill hordes of dretches with only the most minor of causes, including hunger, misdirected anger, or simple boredom. While most fiends are happy to simply grab a handful of dretches and tear them asunder, more intelligent demons get far more creative in their murderous entertainment.

When not outright slaughtering them, other demons often enslave dretches to do their bidding. Dretches are fairly stupid creatures, however, struggling with any orders more complex than waddling off in a particular direction and either holding something, or trying their best to kill it.

Though limited in their capabilities, dretches brim with fiendish spite, driving them to alleviate their own self-hatred by attempting to kill anything they think they can get away with. As a result, many demons treat dretches as infantry, scooping up a few mobs, intimidating them into service, and throwing them into enemy ranks. In the grand theatre of the Blood War, along with the numerous battles demons wage among themselves, the simple dretch is a poor fighter, too dull to fight with any weapon beyond her teeth and claws and with no supernatural ability beyond a cloud of stench that most fiends simply ignore. Only by attacking in mass do dretches succeed at softening up a foe for superior demons in their wake.

Awakening Infection

A rift that opens between the Material Plane and the Abyss or a cult willing to summon demons to the mortal world are both horrendous threats to the world at large. However, these cataclysms are not instantaneous and, if caught early, can normally be nipped in the bud before disaster truly befalls the world.

Though chaotic and filled with horrors, the infinite size of the Abyss means that much of the plane is empty space, and it can take quite some time for any demon to find a portal that appears at random. Thanks to their great numbers, dretches are usually the first demons to locate a portal and wander through it. Likewise, an abyssal cult that is still finding its feet will likely conjure fourth dretches under the impression that they are a “safe” option. This lack of understanding typically leads to escapes by the simple demons. In any case, the first sign of an abyssal invasion is normally a handful of dretches.

Though weak in demonic terms, the chaos even one or two dretches can unleash on an unsuspecting corner of the Material Plane is immense. A dretch will not hesitate to sink its claws into undefended people and wildlife, and their very stench may taint the air and water, leading to terrible plagues. Wise leaders also know that unless they find the source of the dretches and put a stop to it, worse demons will eventually appear.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dretches

Part of the unending cavalcade of dissatisfaction which dretches constantly endure is the fact that most other denizens of the Abyss are too strong for them to rape. Sometimes a dretch may attempt to turn on her fellows for sexual abuse, but this normally results in a pathetic scrap that leaves all parties dissatisfied.

On the other hand, most demons consider dretches easy targets to rape. Able to largely ignore a single dretch’s useless armaments, a demon will just grab and fuck her with no fear of retaliation. So easy is it for the average demon to fuck a dretch that many more powerful demons feel a sense of shame at the idea of resorting to a dretch as a sexual toy.

Men to Dretches

Like most demons, dretches loathe the idea of ever being fucked by a man. However, if they can ignore her smell, most men can overpower and fuck a dretch with little difficulty if they so desire. A dretch so caught will eventually resort to impotent moans and complaint, lashing out physically only if they see an opening to do so.

A pregnant dretch carries its abyssal tiefling offspring for only four months. Both malicious and barely capable of looking after themselves, the offspring of a dretch is almost certainly doomed if kept in her care.

Chapter 45: Glabrezu

A hulking, canine or caprine-headed demon of palpable threat, a glabrezu is equipped to wreak havoc in any location unfortunate enough to bear their presence, armed as they are with dark magic and multiple arms, two like a bulky humanoid’s and a larger pair with brutal pincers. Despite being very willing to use these weapons against fellow fiends, most glabrezus prefer to hold back against mortals, even going so far as to hide their terrifying pincered limbs under cloaks when dealing with them.

This, of course, is not a form of mercy. Glabrezus are far more intelligent than their monstrous forms suggest, with a flare for negotiation and deceit. A glabrezu knows that for as much devastation she could lay upon mortals by a straightforward rampage, most mortals can inflict so much worse upon themselves with only a little nudge on to the self-destructive path.

Demonic Tempters

Though they desire access to the Material Plane, most demons resist and resent attempts by mortal summoners to call them fourth, knowing that only the most demented of mortals would conjure them without some task or labour being desired in exchange. Glabrezus are one of the few exceptions to this, glabrezus eagerly respond to the call of mortals, making them unusually easy to summon for their power, often meaning their summoner is woefully underprepared.

When a glabrezu appears before a mortal, she wastes no time in getting to know them and their desires. Like a devil, the glabrezu offers their victim all manner of prizes; wealth, knowledge, power, or whatever a person may desire. Unlike a devil, however, a glabrezu is rarely after their client’s soul, making some foolish mortals consider glabrezus to be preferable fiendish trade partners.

Whatever the glabrezu requests in exchange for her gifts, no matter how small or inconsequential it seems, will have a devastating knock-on effect, ultimately enriching the demon and bringing devastation and disarray to many mortals. Even the poor fool who first struck a deal with her, even if they prosper for a while, will normally end up suffering under the weight of the glabrezu’s scheme.

Spell and Claw

When a glabrezu finds a mortal too astute to tempt or faces off against unswayable foes like devils, she is more than willing to sweep aside any gregarious pretence and go on the attack. Revelling in the thick of battle, a glabresu is unrecognisable as a slick broker while crushing foes between her crablike pincers. Even the more normal looking arms, small compared to the rest of her body, are musclebound and swing like war hammers.

That is not to say that glabrezu’s abandon their wits entirely when they enter battle. When at the command of a demonic horde, a glabrezu maintains intricate and deceptive tactics, learned from centuries of fearsome combat. These years of experience also allow a glabrezu to gather dark magics.

With utterances of unfathomable foulness, a glabrezu spreads darkness, tears apart magical resistance, defies gravity, and overwhelms the senses of her enemies. While these magics are the most common for a glabrezu to pick up, the intelligence of a glabrezu lends itself to wizardry and most glabrezus pick up a few useful magical artifacts among the treasures they accumulate to tempt mortals.

Sex and Sexuality Among Glabrezus

Like many demons, glabrezus prefer to engage in brutal rape for their own sexual entertainment. However, a glabrezu knows that many mortals are tempted most strongly by the promise of love or sex. Though a glabrezu knows she is not all that attractive by the standards of most mortal women, but she will usually have weaker, more beautiful fiends like succubae under her control.

Often the glabrezu will have her fiendish servant disguise themselves as a mortal and convince the mortal that they are their true love. Though the succubus will play the role well in appearance and sexual activity, the mortal will be emotionally drained to the point that they become completely compliant to the glabrezu’s will. As a bonus for the demon, they will likely get the succubus or mortal pregnant with a cambion to serve them.

Thanks to their ability to hold back their murderous instincts, many more powerful demons and Demon Lords trust Glabrezu to act as intermediaries to their mortal cults, keeping them in accordance to their wishes and participating in their depraved rituals. A number of rituals, particularly those dedicated to the Demon Lord Graz’zt and the abyssal goddess Lolth, are sexual in nature. Glabrezu do not hesitate to participate in this form of cult activity, sometimes creating their own cambions and other half fiendish creatures in their wake.

Men to Glabrezus

Men are an interesting target to glabrezus. While most demons simply resent men for their greater ability to rape, a glabrezu realises that with the right manipulation they can achieve the next best thing, the power to wield a man’s rapacious power like a weapon. A glabrezu who encounters a mortal man sees not a threat, but an opportunity.

Knowing it is normally a safe assumption with men, a glabrezu is normally quick to offer sex to a man. However, a glabrezu rarely offers herself as the prize, at least not to start with, instead offering to make certain mortals vulnerable to rape, while offering the use of her fiendish servants in need of punishment to tide them over between mortal targets.

This often ends up with the glabrezu attaining a small army of cambions and abyssal tieflings. These troops are rarely the ultimate goal of a glabrezu however. Instead, the glabrezu aims to desensitise the man to rape until her becomes demon-like in their sexual tastes, driving women from him in terror and turning sex with him into a maddeningly traumatic event. Like other demons, a glabrezu prefers not to be saddled with pregnancy herself, but if a man manages to impregnate her, a glabrezu is normally pragmatic enough to make use of her cambion offspring.

Perhaps thanks to the suppression of the instinct to kill when the situation calls for it, male glabrezu do remarkably well compared to other male demons. As well as manipulating many female fiends into serving them, glabrezu are often the demon of choice when a Demon Lord wants to send a male demon to knock someone up or rape in a memorable but survivable way.

Chapter 46: Goristro

Resembling a fiendish minotaur and towering to the heights of giants, a goristro is the epitome of the blind devastation for which the demon race is feared. Armed with immense physical strength and little more than a lust for violence in her mind, a goristro charges into battle, through enemy ranks and fortifications alike, in an unstoppable trail of destruction.

Creations of the Horned Queen

Unlike many well-known demons, whose forms were secured in the ancient past by unknowable mechanisms, goristroi are not in fact part of the natural progression of demons as they ascend in power. Instead, goristroi are some of the most successful creations of the Demon Lord Baphomet, Princess of Beasts. Taking the most powerful and brutish demons she can, Baphomet subjects them to an unknown, undoubtably horrible process that transforms them into visual miniatures of herself, at a hunched twenty feet tall or so. Few demons actively look to become Goristro, for Baphomet also robs her subjects of much of their intelligence to make more room for bestial violence.

Though they are her pride and joy, Baphomet doesn’t keep her goristroi on a particularly short leash, instead sending them out to roam her abyssal layer, the Endless Maze. Goristroi do quite well in this environment, not only thanks to their power but also since they inherit their creator’s formidable internal compass, allowing them to always remember their treaded path and never get lost.

Despite its name, many goristroi do eventually leave the Endless Maze, either finding a path to another layer of the Abyss, or being captured by the formidable forces of Baphomet’s many enemies, desiring the power of a goristro for themselves. Baphomet is, of course, enraged by this theft, but she also sees the actions of her rivals as an indisputable admission of the superiority of her demonic craftsmanship.

Abyssal War Machine

With her size, power, and extraordinarily small wits, it takes a horde of demons to keep a goristro under control until a battle comes where her destructive passion can be sent charging in a useful direction. Most demonic commanders however consider the great pains and collateral damage the keeping of a goristro entails to be a worthy price for her uses. With such a degree of unfettered power, goristroi serve as living siege engines.

The swing of a goristro’s arms can turn an enemy phalanx into a bloody smear, the destruction only building if the commanders manage to bolt weapons onto them. Deep bunkers, made to withstand centuries of siege, crack like eggshells under a goristro’s great hoof.

With a furious running charge, thick stone walls are reduced to rubble. In ramshackle howdahs or simply clinging to her blood-soaked fur like parasites, smaller demons may be carried into enemy fortifications by the goristro’s rage ready to fire or jump down into the fray once the defenders are exposed.

The main issue the “owner” of a goristro suffers is getting her back under control once the battle is over. A goristo is simply too powerful and stupid to threaten, so once enemy forces are destroyed, a goristro will turn on any nearby allies before fleeing to find more battle elsewhere. As such, a commander must either be comfortable losing their goristro in exchange for the boost she gave them or be prepared to fight to imprison them once more.

Sex and Sexuality Among Goristroi

On the whole, goristroi are too filled with a desire to cause wanton destruction to dedicate much of their tiny minds to the subtle, personal art of rape. At the same time, goristroi are too absurdly powerful for most demons to even try raping for personal entertainment. Usually, only Demon Lords and balors are capable of fucking a goristro, and they will generally only do it to prove their might, preferring weaker targets to alleviate boredom. As a result, sex is rarely a part of a goristro’s life.

Sometimes, to dampen her rage at being imprisoned, a demonic commander will throw prisoners or simply lesser demons into a Goristro’s prison. With only a limited number of targets to kill, a goristro may attempt to prolong her enjoyment by tormenting or sexually abusing her victims. However, even when prolonging the inevitable, a goristro is normally swift to break her sexual toys.

Men to Goristroi

Most of the time, a goristro is too caught up in the thrill of battle to distinguish her foes by sex. However, if a man is foolish enough to somehow draw a goristro’s attention, the sight of a man is often enough to trigger her instincts as a demonic female to despise men, causing her full destructive power to be focused on him.

Beating a goristro into a state where she can be fucked by a man would be a feat of indescribable power, one that has only reportedly been achieved by a handful of men in all history. Even when it is achieved, impregnating a goristro is inadvisable.

Being a poor planner, a goristro will typically not be able to take advantage of the cambion she births, likely seeking to destroy it if she doesn’t abandon it. If the goristro has a commander, however, they may take the cambion away to serve their purposes.

Male goristroi are a rare breed. Being driven more by a desire to rape than a drive to destroy, male demons are doubly compelled to avoid Baphomet’s clutches. Some say that Baphomet has only a single male goristro under her command, which she keeps close at hand to serve as her personal sex toy.

Chapter 47: Hezrou

In most every layer of the Abyss, the croaks of hezrous can be heard echoing from afar. This and their detestable odour are the closest things to mercy these hulking, toad-like demons possess, for both warn you of their approach and offer the slimmest opportunity for escape. Once a hezrou is upon her target, however, she does not hesitate to tear them to shreds, revelling in the pain and growing stronger amidst the anarchy.

Stinking Tyrants

Being about the size of ogres with razor sharp teeth and brutally hooked claws and not having the intellect to doubt her power, a hezrou fears very little of what she is likely to encounter. Hungry for violence, hezrous tend to roam where there are fights to have, killing anyone they feel like. Though they love to pick on the weak, a hezrou will not hesitate to prey on somebody capable of beating them in a fair fight if a moment of vulnerability arises.

In the thrill of battle, a hezrou’s pores release a pungent odour. While most fiends can simply tolerate the smell, a mortal who gets close enough to a hezrou is likely to become violently ill. A hezrou is far from above using this advantage to tear her foe apart.

Many hezrous form gangs with others of their kind, ready to work together to dominate stronger foes while each is out for their own benefit. Hezrous who lack the tolerance to work with beings of similar power to themselves may have a go at being a Demon Lord in miniture, threatening the dregs of the demonic hierarchy into serving her whims. On the grand scale of the Abyss, however, hezrous are in fact fairly mediocre in individual demonic power, so it may only be a matter of time until a hezrou finds the tables turned.

Weak-Willed Brutes

As much as a hezrou enjoys bullying those weaker than her into service under threat of death, more powerful demons are more than capable of doing the same to her. Though a hezrou hates being forced into service as much as the next demon, she is also easily caught up in the rage and vitriol of stronger demons, almost worshipping their power. This empty-headed willingness to flow with the tides of chaos makes hezrous excellent foot soldiers for those demons capable of bending those currents to their will.

With acts of unspeakable violence and depravity, demon lords and their commanders whip hordes of hezrous into a riot of mindless bloodlust before flinging them at the enemy. Thinking only of carnage, a hezrou fights and dies to further the goals of her mistress. Most greater demons throw hezrous to certain death without concern, knowing that there will always be more.

Though capable combatants, more complex tasks are normally better left to other demons. The kinds of demons that press their inferiors into service often know this from experience, but many summoners learn this the hard way. Any physical interaction is likely to result in a hezrou breaking things in frustration. For all her centuries of existence, there is unlikely to be any useful knowledge locked away in her pitiful mind, and though capable of telepathic communication, most of what a hezrou has to say will be little more than blunt threats and orders. A hezrou cannot even be trusted to use a weapon, more often than not “losing” it on the battlefield so she may kill with her bare claws.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hezrous

Befitting their middling position among demons, hezrous are just as often the rapists as the raped. To maintain the fear any lesser demons have for her, a hezrou will repeatedly grab and use them sexually whenever she is not immediately engaged in combat. Where other demons rule over her, they treat her much the same.

Even when enslaved, however, hezrou are not without opportunities to flex their power in a sexual manner. In raids against their foes, a successful rout of the enemy is normally rewarded by the commanders letting their troops hunt down the surviving elements of the enemy. While most captured foes will be gruesomely killed, hezrous are normally allowed and, in fact, encouraged to violate them first.

Hezrous are also used as punishment within their own ranks, particularly for more powerful demons that a hezrou would ordinarily have no chance of fucking. When these demons mess up or defy their leaders, the demon in charge may throw them to the common soldiery. While hezrous can normally tell the difference between an order to execute and an order to humiliate, they still relish the chance their overarching leader’s approval and the anonymity of the mob grant to let her brutally rape a being that normally acts so superior to her.

Men to Hezrous

Violent and straightforward, hezrous do not hesitate to single out men as targets of their aggression, even when doing so is a tactical error. In a mix of jealousy and rage, a hezrou will charge straight past more important targets and even fight among her supposed allies to be the one to rip a mortal man’s head from his shoulders.

When it comes to fiends however, hezrous can be a little more curious. Knowing they can’t be impregnated with an abyssal tiefling, some hezrous become a little more willing to experiment with cock. While as hateful of male fiends strong enough to sexually dominate them as they are of impregnating mortals, smaller, weaker males who she can control are favoured and even jealously guarded as something of a personal luxury.

Interestingly, there seems to be a disproportionate number of male hezrous compared to other demon types. The current explanation is that hezrous are a type of demon capable of defending themselves from common abyssal scum but are not yet strong enough to be considered a threat by more powerful demons. Indeed, many powerful demons consider male hezrous to be a safe tool with which to unleash their sexual desires.

Chapter 48: Manes

When the actions a person takes in life drive them out of the goddesses’ favour, away from all goodness and order, their soul may be judged and discarded into the pits of the Abyss. Though the Abyss sometimes rewards particularly depraved paragons of evil, most souls that are cast into its infinite layers receive a poor welcome. Transfigured into deformed, pudgy little runts, manes scamper through the Abyss like vermin.

Ruined Souls

Only the most vile, cruel, and treacherous souls who refuse the claim of even the darkest goddesses can fall into the grip of the Abyss. Still, with all the mortals who live and die, there is unfortunately no shortage of appropriate candidates.

As one can expect from such an evil, unstable plane, a soul’s decent into the Abyss is a ruinous, traumatic event. Crawling out of various pits and slime pools, most often filled with cannibalistic, half-formed wretches, any resemblance to a mane’s mortal form is lost in corpulent lumps and necrotic flesh.

A manes’ mind is likewise destroyed by her decent. Virtually brainless and utterly mad, a manes has few instincts save to flee from other demons and throw herself murderously at anything else. Even summoners know that a manes is useless for anything beyond the spread of death and disarray among the unprepared.

Most often, manes are summoned by accident. When a greater demon is summoned, the pathetic weakness of manes lets a few be swept up in the conjuration magic as well. Ironically, this act of incapability is when manes are the most dangerous. A summoner who is unprepared to receive manes along with their intended summon may be led to fatal distraction, giving a moment to let the more dangerous demon break free.

Demonic Malleability

For the most part, other demons understand manes to be entirely useless, weak, and sorry excuses for fiends that shame their kind by daring to be classified among them. As such, demons do not hesitate to hunt, torture, and kill manes with impunity; many greater demons use the death and suffering of hundreds of manes as a mere triviality of ceremony.

Despite her weakness, however, manes are surprisingly resilient in one particular way. When a manes is killed, in the Abyss or otherwise, her body bursts into a fetid mist, her spiritual energy being cast back into the Abyss into a roiling mist from which new manes emerge. Only if consumed by a greater demon, her chaotic spirit being fully integrated into their body, does a manes fail to reappear.

Still, some demons with the perspective of great power find use for manes besides food or sadistic entertainment. Perhaps thanks to their dramatically transformed nature, manes take well to further transformation when invested in more power by a Demon Lord. For the most part, Demon Lords invest their power by necessity, turning manes into quasits when they need spies or into dretches and hezrous to boost their soldiery.

Despite the relatively small amount of power a demon lord expends to promote manes into useful demons, the store she has is finite and hard earned, meaning a Demon Lord does not invest power without due consideration. Demon Lords are also hesitant to instil too much power into an individual manes out of fear she will create her next rival. Some Demon Lords circumvent this danger by turning manes into creatures that fall fully under their foul domains. For example, Orcus, Lady of Undeath, is known to turn manes into undead ghouls and shadows, while the Demon Queen of Fungi, Zuggtmoy, fosters virulent fungal servitors that sprout from a manes’ fat body.

Sex and Sexuality Among Manes

For the most part, only the lowest, least intelligent demons publicly use manes for sex. Among stronger, more intelligent demons, resorting to such a common, relatively defenceless excuse for a fiend is taken as a sign of weakness and cowardice, earning mockery and assault in turn.

In their own case, manes generally have an instinctual understanding that trying to rape another demon is a swift way to a painful death. When faced with a non-demonic potential target, most manes are too excited for something to kill to think about committing rape.

Men to Manes

With the barest glimmers of demonic instinct to guide them, a female manes that sees a mortal man is immediately filled with the most intense loathing. Filled with suicidal overconfidence, a manes runs headlong at a man in the hopes of killing him, often accompanied by a small horde of her kind and any demons her excited baying attracts.

Most men with any combat experience can slay a single manes with little problem. If he is interested in doing so, it is also not much of a struggle to restrain a manes to rape her, though some men may consider her too wretched and corpselike to fuck despite not being undead.

A pregnant manes is put at a significant disadvantage. In the terror of the Abyss, the limitations of pregnancy will almost guarantee a manes is killed, along with the unborn abyssal tiefling, a mortal babe she will almost certainly turn upon the moment it is out of her should she survive the two-month gestation.

Since manes are the only breed of demon to come solely from the ranks of mortal souls, rather than the automatic spawning of female demons the Abyss performs, it is all but a statistical certainty that manes have the highest percentage of males of any demon kind. Being both a manes and a male generally puts a rather large target on the backs of these damned male souls, with many demons singling them out for murder. At the same time, however, some demons, with a curiosity formed by lust, keep male manes as a form of living sex toy that, since they’re both fiends, can’t get her pregnant. This arrangement is little better than slavery but offers a modicum of protection to the wretched male manes.

Chapter 49: Marilith (Art)

Precise, even-tempered, and beautiful, one may expect it to be hard to tell that a marilith is in fact an ancient and powerful champion of the Abyss. As she slithers into motion, however, her demonic evil is palpable, and no mortal unfortunate enough to see her is likely to doubt the cataclysmic danger they are in. Resembling a multi-armed humanoid woman with the lower half of a great serpent, mariliths are the formidable wandering warriors and military leaders of the abyssal hordes.

Serpentine Swordswomen

Though equipped with their own formidable strength, mariliths are normally seen in possession of up to six blades, one for each hand. These weapons are not just for show, of course; over centuries, a marilith hones her skill with a blade until she outranks any mortal fighter.

In combat, a marilith fights like half a dozen duellists in one. With snakelike flexibility, a marililith parries and cuts down foes from all directions at once. With omnidirectional awareness and reach, the marilith teleports straight into the heart of battle, slicing all those around her into a vortex of blood and viscera.

One may think a marilith’s calmness and the precision with which she executes her foes are signs of a quite undemonic adherence to order. This misconception is a shallow one, however. Mariliths take and betray other demons as they see fit, execute would-be authority figures at the slightest glimmer of weakness, and kill for little more than an excuse to express their cold, constant hatred for everything other than themselves.

Demonic Tacticians

For the most part, mariliths prefer to work alone, roaming from one battlefield to the next, killing to satisfy their fury. However, through offers of power and threats of destruction, balors and Demon Lords can press a few mariliths into service as generals, commanders, and tactical advisors.

Having witnessed more battles than a mortal will see minutes of life, a marilith formulates intricate battle plans to most efficiently slay whatever enemy appears and direct the slavering, nearly uncontrollable hordes of lesser demons she is put in charge of. Of course, the battles involving demons are never fully predictable, even for the demons themselves. When the unexpected inevitably occurs, a marilith does not succumb to the chaos, instead using it to her advantage. Calmly re-evaluating the changing conditions, the marilith instates or comes up with an amendment to her tactics, instating it immediately.

Thanks to their flexibility and ferocity, mariliths win their mistresses many victories. In reward, most mariliths receive slaves, treasures, and an unending stream of new foes to kill. While it is inaccurate to say a marilith is ever happy or content with being a subordinate, she will suppress thoughts of rebellion as long as she can continue shedding blood.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mariliths

Despite being undeniably attractive in form, even to the tastes of many mortals, the marilith is among the least sexual of demons. A matilith has no desire to tempt mortals into sin; she wants them to die horribly. A marilith doesn’t rape her opponents to show her dominance; she kills them. A marilith doesn’t express her frustrations through sexual violation; she expresses them through murder.

Interestingly, it seems that many demons share the infatuation of mortals with a marilith’s beauty, though corrupted into a desire to see her raped and humiliated. Most demons know that trying to fuck a marilith will almost certainly result in near-instantaneous execution by her blades. Most maraliths know their subordinates lust after her, which in turn prompts her to be even more aggressive and cruel. This, however, only strengthens her underling’s desire to see her dominated. On the rare occasions where a marilith has been brought low and rendered powerless, it is often her own demonic hordes that do her in, tuning on her to drag her away, doomed to an eternity of being their rape meat.

Even a marilith’s commanders hesitate to push their luck when it comes to sexual behaviour towards her. While a balor or a Demon Lord may overpower a single marilith, knowledge of their willingness to rape her kind without cause may be enough to encourage all the mariliths under their command to band together in rebellion, taking swathes of their demonic army with them. Instead, a marilith’s superior waits for her to make a blunder, a failure in battle, an ill hidden act of rebellion, anything her fellow mariliths would scorn her for, and use it as a reason to “punish” her with a lengthy stint as their sex slave.

Men to Mariliths

Though mariliths have no desire to be better equipped to perform rape, most still hold a special resentment for mortal men. When a mortal woman faces a marilith, any preconceived notion of desire towards her kind usually evaporates within seconds of seeing her complete lack of empathy and capacity for destruction. This death of attraction is one many mariliths take great pleasure in witnessing. A man, on the other hand, no matter how terrified or enraged he is by her, will never stop feeling lustful towards her. Though a man may not act on this lust, a marilith can see it in him clear as day, enraging her to no end.

Most men would be lucky to escape a marilith with their lives; only those rare, legendary men, accompanied by armies or heroic companions, could hope to best one in battle to the point where they could fuck her. As a marilith starts to lose and the possibility of having to sate a man’s desire dawns on her, she can lose much of her normal countenance, roaring and screaming with fury.

As with all demons, it is generally inadvisable to impregnate a marilith. Pregnant mariliths show no visible reduction in threat or combat ability. Though they are infuriated and ashamed to get pregnant, most are pragmatic enough to make use of the cambion they give birth to, normally tasking it first with the murder of its father.

Oddly enough, there are no trustworthy records that mention male mariliths. Whether they are simply rare or male demons for some reason skip their most attractive phase is a mystery.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art here. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 50: Nalfeshnee

Looking like some unholy union of a boar and ape, a nalfeshnee soars above the droves of lesser demons on wings far too small to logically carry her. From her aerial parapet, she bellows down her orders in battle driving lesser demons to fight, kill, and defile in her name.

Abyssal Nobles

In the abyss, raw destructive power is everything; a lesser demon obeys a greater one not out of any semblance of hierarchy or respect but because the greater demon will destroy them if they don’t. While less desperate for combat than many demons, a nalfeshnee can bring great destruction when challenged, her great fangs and clawed fingers strong enough to tear even a full suit of plate mail to shreds in seconds while shrugging off similarly titanic blows with her bare hide.

Not only can a nalfeshnee rend flesh and bone with ease, she can also ruin the minds and souls around her. In a flash of unnatural, scintillating lights, a nalfeshnee can awaken the nightmares of even nearby fiends. Even without their magic, nalfeshnees know many dark and terrible secrets and are adept at choosing the most disturbing words they can when they communicate. Summoners unwise enough not to defend against a nalfeshnee’s telepathy have been driven mad in only a few short words.

A nalfeshnee is seldom humble with her power. While there are demons more powerful than nalfeshnees, goristroi and mariliths lack the intelligence and inclination, respectively, to rule, while Demon Lords and balors are infrequent enough to leave plenty of space for the fiefdoms of nalfeshnees to pop up. Living like queens, with countless lesser demons to serve them, nalfeshnees bicker and war constantly in the name of their egos.

Slothful and Sadistic

Like most demons, nalfeshnees thrive in environments of carnage and suffering. However, a nalfeshnee prefers to keep herself out of harm's way, forcing her underlings to take the brunt of the risk while she picks on the easiest of targets. There is little a nalfashnee hates more than a fair fight. A nalfeshnee’s preferred battle is against an exposed supply line or the fleeing and wounded, foes on whom she can swoop down, terrify, and brutally murder with the barest modicum of effort.

When not on a battlefield, a nalfeshnee normally resides in a stronghold or the like built in her honour, where indentured servants wait on her hand and hoof. In these times of leisure, nalfeshnees commonly make a mockery of the frills of refinement. As a human noblewoman may listen to musicians play in a bannered dining hall while eating a sophisticated meal with fine silverware, a nalfeshnee may listen merrily to the tortured screams of a dozen still-living victims in halls laden with their flayed skin while she eats another alive with rusted cutlery.

Only when a nalfeshnee is directly challenged by a being powerful enough to threaten her does she drop the pretence. In a difficult battle, a nalfeshnee rips and tears in fury, forgetting any semblance of nobility. If her death seems possible, a nalfeshnee feels no shame in throwing legions of her horde at her to their deaths, teleporting to safety, or submitting to her challenger if all else fails, if only to betray them as soon as they seem vulnerable.

Sex and Sexuality Among Nalfeshnees

Like many demons, a nalfeshnee finds pleasure in sexually dominating those around her. Unlike other, more basal demons, sex for a nalfeshnee is more than just an expression of power over her victim; it is yet another perversion of noble trappings.

As well as simply fucking any weaker being she feels like, a nalfeshnee gathers around her a harem of concubines. A nalfeshnee not only shows her power by forcing these servants into such a humiliating submissive role, but also her influence and reach through the beauty and exoticness of her servants. Along with demons with unusually sexual mutations and fawning succubae, a nalfeshnee will attain rarer prizes, devil prisoners, notable mortals, legendary monsters, and more.

Being a rare and precious concubine does not guarantee any modicum of safety in a nalfeshnee’s claws. Nalfeshnees are as debauched and depraved in their sexual appetites as any demon with the resources to satisfy all their lusts. A Nalfeshnee will also have constant patrols out looking for replacements whenever her lust proves lethal for one of her concubines. Nalfeshnees know they are thoroughly undesirable lovers and take great pleasure in seeing the look of horror and disgust on the face of a being they have chosen to make their own.

Men to Nalfeshnees

Like most demons, female nalfeshnees hate men, envying their potential as rapists. Some female nalfeshnees go so far as to insist on being described as male and wearing false, often viciously barbed, phalluses. Other nalfeshnees consider these attempts to imitate masculinity to be signs of shameful desperation and prefer to simmer in their bitterness. They will even willingly keep a weaker male demon as part of their harem out of curiosity and to have something their rivals don’t.

When a nalfeshnee meets a mortal man, her first reaction may be surprisingly non-violent, especially if she considers herself to have a significant advantage over him. Even though the sight of a man brings her unfathomable rage, she will suppress it for the sake of theatrics. To start with, a nalfeshnee may pretend to be honoured to meet a man, even feigning a desire to fuck him and bare his children. She may compel a few lesser demons to allow themselves to be fucked or attempt to sway a man into showing off his rapacious abilities on his fellow mortals.

A man who chooses to remain virtuous and refuses to rape an innocent will likely bring her rage to the surface sooner, but no nalfeshnee has the patience to hold up the façade for long. Eventually, a nalfeshnee will decide she has had her fun and let her anger out on the man, likely resulting in his slow, painful death.

Male nalfeshnees are much like their female counterparts, but brimming even more with pride and lust for their masculinity. In the abyssal kingdom of a male nalfeshnee, the enslaved “residents” live in constant dread of the moment he will inevitably drop from the sky to violate them. Meanwhile, he will also find time to plunder his way through a vast harem of those creatures rare and beautiful enough to be “honoured” with the title of concubine. These unfortunates can be ruined at a frightening rate.

Chapter 51: Quasit

A small, vulnerable demon, quasits survive mostly by staying out of the way and out of sight. Many people underestimate the threat of a quasit thanks to her size and weakness, but behind many villains of the Material Plane, a quasit sits unnoticed, whispering in their ear.

Eyes of the Abyss

At only around two feet tall and with only a pair of claws with mildly irritating poison to fight with, quasits do not do well standing up for themselves on the battlefield. Indeed, many demons consume or tear quasits apart without a second thought, simply because they are bored. As such, a quasit’s main path to survival is to stay hidden and beneath notice, surviving off of scraps.

The most notable tool in this endeavour is the ability of quasits to turn invisible at will, staying unseen for as long as they remain passive. One may think that with the power to turn invisible, a quasit would have to invest almost no energy in actual stealth. When it comes to the demons a quasit is most likely to encounter, it is true that invisibility alone will likely suffice. Unfortunately for quasits, the eyes of many powerful demons can see straight through such magical concealments, thus necessitating that quasits learn how to hide by more mundane means too.

With their proficiency at going unnoticed as well as the fact they swarm the Abyss like vermin, it is almost impossible to keep a secret out of a quasit’s ears. Knowing this, a demon may sometimes employ a quasit’s skills as a spy or, more accurately, grab any quasit they can find and threaten destruction until her secrets are spilled. Quasits who prove especially talented at gathering information may receive some small protection in the service of a demon who desires knowledge others would keep from her.

Demonic Familiars

Though fairly weak, quasits are as driven as any demon to spread chaos and evil through the planes. Knowing their influence alone would be minimal, many quasits have a surprisingly undemonic method of expanding their reach. Though they don’t enjoy servitude, quasits let themselves be summoned to the Material Plane by mortal spellcasters. Once summoned, it is not too difficult for the summoner to persuade a quasit to bond with them as their familiar.

With the bond between mistress and familiar, the mortal gains the benefit of a servant who can turn invisible, relay telepathic messages over a distance, and aid in everyday tasks. In the presence of those who would criticise a fiendish companion, a quasit can disguise herself as mundane vermin such as bats, centipedes, and toads, which are unpleasant but not as objectionable as a spellcaster’s pet.

Being almost completely obsequious to her mistress and indeed helpful, some may wonder how a quasit can possibly be a foul demon from the Abyss. A quasit’s obedience is a ruse, however. As a quasit becomes more and more familiar with her mistress, she subtly advises them to make decisions that are selfish and destructive, stoking their rage and encouraging them to take actions that hurt others. Through her mistress, a quasit enacts far more evil than she could possibly achieve on her own.

Sex and Sexuality Among Quasits

When a demon feels more rapacious than murderous, it is not uncommon for them to seek out a quasit to fuck. If found, a quasit ruefully considers herself fortunate if her assailant simply violates her and tosses her away. Many quasits are kept in cages or sacks by greater demons as living sex toys, taken out to release sexual frustration on before tossing her broken body back into its prison to await later use.

An escape from this life of rape is another benefit for quasits able to be summoned. Quasits know that they are not particularly attractive to most female mortals and attempt to double down on this unattractiveness with a sour attitude. Still, there are a few female spellcasters who experiment sexually with their quasits. A quasit accepts this treatment since sex with a mortal is seldom as painful as being fucked by another demon.

Most of the time, spellcasters merely fuck their quasit to relieve boredom. Quasits are willing to lie about the impossibility of their getting pregnant to foist the labours of pregnancy onto mortals or discourage them from breeding entirely. Even when they know the truth, their lack of desire to care for children or fear of prejudice against abyssal tieflings discourages most women from trying to get their quasits pregnant.

Men to Quasits

Like all demons, female quasits hate mortal men. Most quasits, however, are self-aware enough to know that alone, their rage will be impotent. A quasit will thus attempt to stay out of a man’s awareness unless there are enough demons around that their combined power would make them a significant threat.

If a quasit receives male attention alone, particularly if she is summoned, she resigns herself to being inevitably fucked and likely impregnated. Determined to make as much use of her unfortunate situation as she can, a quasit summoned by a man suppresses her loathing, pretending to be ecstatic at her fortune to meet such a rare and pleasurable master.

Between repeatedly acting as her master’s sex toy and often mother to his abyssal tiefling daughters, a quasit does her best to turn her master to other targets. Embiggening his arrogance with hollow praise, a quasit attempts to convince her master that it is his natural right to breed any woman he desires, regardless of consent or natural order. The quasit compounds this temptation by actively working to find vulnerable and attractive victims.

Male quasits are, thanks to their sex and ease of control, a desirable commodity among more powerful demons, kept in much the same way as their female equivalents can be. When summoned by a mortal woman, male quasits who aren’t immediately banished again can often manipulate their summoner’s lust to drive her to evil or even reverse the situation entirely, becoming the master of a much more powerful mistress.

Notes:

Big thanks to Romman08 on FurAffinity for the art on this one!

Chapter 52: Shadow Demon

Demons do not have souls in the way mortals understand them, instead having an unstable jumble of essence that grows with their power. When a demon is killed outside of the Abyss, it is this essence that pours back to its native plane and forms the demon’s body anew out of the ambient filth of the plane.

Sometimes, however, a demon’s essence is prevented from reforming in the Abyss, normally thanks to mortal interference. Out of this disembodied essence, a shadow demon is born.

Arcane Outliers

Being the result of external meddling, shadow demons have no real place in the unstable hierarchy of the Abyss. In most cases, shadow demons do not naturally appear in the abyss, instead being most prevalent where demonic essence can be trapped, namely on the Material Plane.

The main reason demon summoners, for example, many drow mages, call forth demonic essences in the form of shadow demons is control. Being separated from a physical body tends to make a demon’s essence significantly less powerful. Since power is the closest thing to true authority among demons, a shadow demon’s diminishment makes them far more pliable to a summoner’s demands.

For example, a summoner may probe the millennia of forbidden knowledge a glabrezu accrues without fear of her pincers by first transforming the essence of it into a shadow demon. Likewise, few mortals can inspire the fanatical drive hezrou have to fight in the name of those more powerful than them, but with their own power diminished, a mortal mage may acquire such command.

It is, however, foolish to assume that stripping a demon of its body guarantees its obedience or that the very essence of an abyssal resident would buckle to the demands of order. In virtually all cases, a shadow demon’s primary goal is to kill the one who reduced her in such a way, escape back to the Abyss, and regain her full glory.

Fiendish Shades

Without a physical body to hold her, a shadow demon is a rather insubstantial fiend. Slipping through walls like a ghost and impossible to physically restrain, she leaves no evidence of her presence. A shadow demons claws cannot even blemish her victim’s skin.

This is not to say by any means that a shadow demon is impotent; when the shade’s long fingers phase through the flesh of a living, thinking being, the demon’s essence catches and rends the psyche. Those that survive a shadow demon’s attack suffer from headaches and scattered memories for a while afterwards. Those that do not die from a complete cessation of brain activity with no external sign of its cause.

A shadow demon’s intangible body also merges nearly perfectly into existing shadows. In hiding, a shadow demon is almost indistinguishable from the darkness around her, even with no cover to speak of. In such shaded conditions, a shadow demon can appear from nowhere, strike, and disappear a moment later.

A shadow demon is not invulnerable however, without a body to tolerate it, bright light, even from a simple torch or lantern, pains and confuses a shadow demon, even as it strips her hiding place away. Out in the open, weapons, particularly enchanted or blessed ones, can injure a shadow demons ephemeral body as can many spells, especially if they happen to harness the divine light of the Upper Planes.

Sex and Sexuality Among Shadow Demons

For the most part, shadow demons are too focused on regaining their prior power to waste time raping the pitiful demons they are still able to dominate in their lessened form. At the same time, shadow demons are both excellent at hiding and hard to pin down thanks to their intangibility, making it rarely worth the time for other demons to seek them out for sex.

As such, the most frequent occasion on which one is likely to see a shadow demon having sex is under the command of a mortal summoner. Though not staggeringly beautiful, a shadow demon’s simplistic form disguises its demonic foulness and makes her seem just unhazardous enough for some women to consider her a worthwhile, unique fuck.

Men to Shadow Demons

Though hateful to men, the loss of power that becoming a shadow demon represents keeps most from expressing this hate as a typically demonic blind rage. Instead, a shadow demon uses her natural stealth and patience to slip in close to a man and try to kill him quickly and quietly.

For men trying to fuck a shadow demon, their incorporeality makes physical restraint impossible, leaving magical compulsion as the only real method to safely fuck her. Like all demons, one shouldn’t entrust a shadow demon with a pregnancy unless they have means to contain her for the year or so it takes for her to give birth and means to safely get the infant abyssal tiefling away from her before she can do it harm. This is easier said than done, however, since, despite carrying a completely corporeal baby inside of them, a shadow demon can still move through solid objects while pregnant with no disturbance to her or her offspring.

Male shadow demons are incredibly rare since they rely on the rare confluence of a male demon being killed outside the Abyss and a mortal spellcaster randomly reaching out to summon his essence before it reforms.

Chapter 53: Vrock

With an ear-piercing screech, vrocks drop from the sky on a mission of pure violence. Dim-witted but cruel, a vrock resembles a carrion bird mixed with a tall, wiry humanoid. Flocking out of attraction to the same victims or under orders from a more powerful demon, vrocks are disorganised and treacherous, even by demonic standards.

Abyssal Scavengers

Circling the skies of the Abyss, vrocks are in constant search of flesh to feast upon. Though they will snap up demons who are weak or injured, they are especially fond of mortal flesh. Equipped with natural butchery equipment, a vrock tears her prey apart with her talons, all the while eating them alive with her vicious, tooth-lined beak.

When prey proves difficult in combat, a vrock calls upon less obvious weapons. The guttural screech of a vrock, if it catches her off guard can paralyse a creature for a few precious seconds, moments where a vrock may escape, tear them to shreds, or unleash another ability. The feathers of a vrock are infested will all manner of filth, including a virulent strain of spore which she can unleash around herself. This fiendish spore infects mortal flesh and poison the body. These spores may be destroyed by a sufficiently robust constitution or by the timely application of holy water, but in most cases will kill the average mortal in seconds, crippling stronger heroes while also seasoning their flesh to the vrock’s liking.

As well as the flesh of their enemies, vrocks also hunger for their treasures. Though a vrock may luck out and become the jealous owner of a magical artefact of priceless bounty, most vrocks are too stupid to truly judge the value of their loot. A flock of vrocks will collapse into brutal infighting over worthless brass rings, bent silverware, and handfuls of copper coins.

Uncooperative Dullards

For all her love of what glitters and shines, a vrock is notoriously difficult to bribe. In the vrock’s tiny slimeball of a mind, working for another’s interest is uncontainable in the face of simply devouring the would-be dealmaker and taking what they have to offer her. Even greater demons, who gain her doubtful loyalty under the threat of torture and destruction, know not to trust her obedience to last without constant brutal oversight.

Without repeated reminders, vrocks swiftly forget the terror that inspired their obedience. A vrock constantly tries to escape her master or else undermine them, even when wiser demons would bide their time for a more opportune moment. Even the most severe punishments only dampen a vrock’s thirst for treachery for a short while.

Vrocks follow orders only begrudgingly and under palpable threat. While following the orders of others, a vrock does the bare minimum to avoid direct punishment and is loath to innovate. Most superior demons simply set vrocks to do what they do naturally: deliver death and terror from above.

Sex and Sexuality Among Vrocks

As part of their empty-headed arrogance, vrocks relish the opportunity to brutally rape anything they can overpower. Generally, this means that a vrock will target smaller creatures to themselves since vrocks rarely band together to fuck something more powerful than they are individually. Indeed, an unfortunate creature that multiple vrocks desire is most likely going to get torn to shreds as the demons fight amongst themselves over it.

On the other hand, vrocks generally hate to be fucked by creatures capable of dominating them, particularly greater demons. Again, however, vrocks are highly uncooperative and rarely help each other to avoid getting raped. Most vrocks will intentionally open their fellows up to sexual assault by more powerful demons and proceed to mock their fellow’s misfortune from a safe distance away. If a vrock feels that she has power over another of her kind, she may even take the initiative to rape them herself.

Thanks to their dominance of the skies and attraction to carrion, some of the most common targets of rape for a horny vrock are meat-eating birds like ravens and vultures. By impregnating these creatures, a single vrock who finds her way into the Material Plane can cause populations of half-fiendish carnivorous birds to establish themselves, causing trouble for generations after the demon progenitor was sent back to the Abyss.

Men to Vrocks

Jealous of their rapacious potential and fearful of its use on her, a vrock shows her contempt for men plainly in her actions. Even when it is a clear tactical blunder, most vrocks target men before almost any opponent, especially if they happen to be mortal and thus capable of impregnating her.

On the other hand, if a vrock is put at a man’s mercy, disgusted and horrified at the thought of being saddled with an abyssal tiefling to gestate and give birth to, she will offer anything she can to avoid having sex with him. Along with treasure and services, a vrock will offer information and assistance in betraying her kind. These offers should be treated with exceptional doubt, since a vrock will do everything in her power to escape or get revenge without fulfilling her promises.

Male vrocks are generally just as vile and dull as their female equivalents, spending much more of their time searching for vulnerable creatures to rape. Lacking the countenance to be silver-tonged, most of what a male vrock says tends to be threats of rape, even when talking to more powerful demons. While many demons are enraged by this arrogance, other demons are amused by a male vrock’s foolish overconfidence, keeping him as a sexual toy in the hope of eventually breaking his spirit. Unfortunately, most male vrocks are too dim-witted to realise when their position is hopeless.

Chapter 54: Yochlol

A disruption of demon nature, the yochlol are made not by the random tides of the Abyss but by Lolth, the fallen elvish goddess of spiders and head of the drow pantheon, one of the Abyss’ most active deific residents. Though only of moderate power in the grand scheme of the Abyss, Yochlol stand out for possessing a unique and fanatical loyalty to their goddess while paradoxically doing nothing to disrupt their chaotic nature. The tools by which Lolth weaves her diabolical plans, yochlol, can appear unexpectedly anywhere their goddess’ web extends.

Handmaidens of the Spider Queen

Unlike virtually all other demons, including many that serve under Lolth, yochlol need no threats to serve their goddess, and conversely, no amount of bribery or intimidation can make a yochlol knowingly turn against Lolth’s desires. This frighteningly undemonic fanaticism towards Lolth has made mortals and demons alike wonder at its cause. Most agree that Lolth must install a yochlol’s obedience during the process of their creation. So far, however, the goddess has kept the secrets to making her favoured servants close to her rounded, titanic breasts.

Some theorise that yochlol are not demons in the truest sense, instead being mere extensions of the Spider Queen’s will. Others doubt the jealous goddess of the drow would split herself up so, instead making her servants by altering demons caught in her web, somehow crippling their sense of personal desire for the sake of pursuing hers.

Yet others see the potential in Lolth’s mortal flock—the most devoted of the drow, her priestesses, clerics, and acolytes. These souls, having served her well in life, are sent straight to their mistress' domain, known as the Demonweb Pits. Unlike regular Abyss-bound souls, doomed to rise as completely mindless wreches, the manes made of drow souls may contain glimmers of the loyalty that drove them to worship Lolth in life. By stoking these embers, Loth may reawaken the fames of eternal devotion, transforming her deceased mortal servants into the latest in the ranks of immortal yochlol demons.

Emissaries of the Demonweb

In her true form, a yochlol resembles a six-foot-tall pillar of venomous yellow sludge, equipped with tentacles, large spherical breasts in the style of a full-breasted drow, and a single red eye. A yochlol can at any time, however, will herself to take on one of three other forms, each with its own uses.

One of the most well known forms a yochlol can take on is that of a full-breasted drow. In this form, a yochlol may pose as an assistant to a priestess or simply wander among Lolth’s chosen people, watching for signs of decent. Yochlol’s are aided by their ability to read the surface thoughts of any they desire. Drow know of both these abilities of the yochlol, feeding the race’s paranoia and fanaticism, just in case any passing stranger of their kind is in fact one of Lolth’s demonic handmaidens, ready to report any hint of disloyalty she finds back to the goddess.

Yochlol can also, unsurprisingly, become giant spiders the size of wolves. This is a fairly understandable form for yochlol to take, seeing as Lolth is the goddess of the spiders and they are her favoured creatures. Yochlol in this form tend to travel with other spiders, half-fiendish or simply oversized, tackling the unstable terrain of the Underdark as only spiders can. Yochlol don’t have to turn into spiders to travel this way; however, regardless of her form, a yochlol can walk in defiance of gravity, navigate webs, and spin them anew with the consummate ease of Lolth’s chosen arachnids.

The final form a yochlol can take is a cloud of yellowish, toxic mist. Able to slip through any crack that isn’t airtight, virtually nothing is inaccessible to a yochlol in this form, and therefore, nothing can hide from Lolth’s knowledge. By using her forms in concert, a yochlol acts as an intermediary between Lolth and her mortal followers, delivering her commands and collecting their secrets.

Sex and Sexuality Among Yochlol

When in the Abyss, Yochlol are not particularly rapacious as demons go. Indeed, much of the sex yochlol participate in is arguably consensual. This is not, however, to say that yochlol fucks out of love or to spread joy. Instead, yochlol have sex to fit into drow society.

Among drow, sex has many social functions. Female drow fuck each other to secure alliances, establish dominance, and reward or punish subordinates. Therefore, while in the guise of a drow herself, a yochlol also has sex in these situations to keep up appearances.

Some drow may also fuck yochlol knowingly, though they typically prefer to fuck her in her drow form. A powerful priestess may be rewarded with a yochlol as a demonic concubine. Conversely, a lesser priestess gifted with a yochlol’s assistance may offer the demon her body in gratitude.

Sometimes a yochlol does not fuck purely for enjoyment but out of duty when Lolth desires a cambion to serve her. Generally, a yochlol impregnates a full-breasted drow with the cambion, who will thus be born with a drow-like appearance. However, drow society has a taboo against drow of the same breast shape breeding, so a yochlol rarely produces a cambion in her drow form, instead electing to fuck in her spider or true demon form. Yochlol are also thought to be the patters of many half-fiend spiders, the most fearsome war beasts of the drow.

Men to Yochlol

Not only are yochlol demons, but they are also the servants of Lolth, one of the most famous man-hating deities to ever exist. This, of course, means that yochlol are doubly compelled to despise men of all kinds. Among the many “moral failings” a yochlol searches the drow’s mind for is any kind of attraction or sexual curiosity towards men. When found, a yochlol ensures that the harlot is punished either by her fellow drow or by Lolth’s wrath.

When directly encountering a man, a yochlol whips the drow or demons around her into a misandrist frenzy, sending whole teams of them to hunt the man for sport while ensuring none of the drow succumb to lust. Yochlol do not have to be so outwardly aggressive, however. Particularly when undercover, a yochlol may feign friendliness or pretend to be attracted to men to lure a man into a false sense of security, striking him down when his guard is dropped. In most cases, a yochlol will never willingly fuck a man, no matter what he offers or threatens, preferring to die before defying Lolth’s anti-male creed.

Chapter 55: Devils

Staunch and implacable agents of law, tainted by heartless, sadistic evil, the devils are the undebated masters of Baator, known commonly as the Nine Hells. Held up by a rigid, pitiless bureaucracy, it is in order that the devils find strength. Lesser devils follow orders unquestioningly, ruled by tyrannical, iron-fisted superiors. Devils may flaunt power and attempt to enjoy their victories, but all devils suffer, either at the hands of others or from their own miseries. Only when a devil actively causes the suffering of another does a devil feel anything close to true pleasure.

Each one perfected to fulfil a specific need of hell’s governance or armies, the array of forms the devils take can boggle even the most dedicated of mortal infernal scholars. In this chapter, we will discuss devils as a whole, but in the chapters that follow, we will take a closer look at some of the more notable and important devilish forms.

Layers and Promotion

Immortal fiends that suffer neither the wear of age nor the ravages of mortal diseases, a devil’s body can seem eternal and unchanging. Indeed, a devil killed outside the Nine Hells will dissipate into a foul-tasting sulphurous mist before she washes up in an intact body on the banks of the Hells’ tributaries of the River Styx. A devil’s form is not as permanent as things may look, however, and, despite their lawful nature, almost all devils desire one particular form of change: promotion.

When a devil pledges itself to a particular superior, that superior or a superior above it possesses the power to uplift that devil into a new, more powerful form. The exact requirements and paths of promotion available to a devil are complicated, but in general, a promoted devil takes on a more powerful form, normally in exchange for much hard work and a lot of curing of favour. Though a devil’s promotion can grant them a modicum of fairer treatment and some authority over their lessers, it also comes with much higher expectations and responsibilities. Still, devils prize their positions and dread demotion more than almost any other fate.

Suiting the devils’ love of bureaucracy, the precise matter of the infernal hierarchy is a complicated affair. Still, devils can usually be divided into a few simple categories.

At the very bottom of the pile are least and lesser devils. The vermin and toadies of the Nine Hells, respectively, these devils take commands rather than give them, maintaining the Hells’ infostructure, carrying messages, fighting as expendable infantry in the devils’ wars, and more.

Above the lesser devils are the greater devils. These are the devils that give out commands in day-to-day life in the Hells while also serving as the elite soldiery, each form dedicated to a specific use in warfare. For all this power, however, greater devils are not the rulers of the Nine Hells; that power falls into the clutches of the archdevils.

 Utterly unique, individual devils of astonishing power, archdevils are essentially the Hells’ nobility, its ruling caste. Of these archdevils, only a handful have been selected to enjoy the rank of Archduchess, each set to rule one of the top eight of Baator’s nine layers, from Avernus at the top all the way down to Cania, second from the bottom. The remaining, lowest layer, Nessus, is the seat of power for Asmodeus, ruler of the Nine Hells, practically a goddess in her own right, with the fealty and jealous eyes of every other devil upon her.

Soul Tempters

Unlike many other fiends, devils have desires beyond crude suffering and death for mortals. Above all else, devils want mortal souls. When a soul arrives in the nine hells, it does so as a lemure, the lowest, most pathetic form of devil, ready to be put to work or promoted into other useful devil forms. By the natural way of things, souls should be directed to afterlives suiting their moral stance, thus leading to the Nine Hells being restocked by the souls of those who dedicated their lives to evil and law. Unfortunately, the devils want more.

Long ago, the devils learned that mortals are vulnerable to many forms of temptation, often leading to shortsighted decisions. Taking advantage, devils offer deals to mortals, offering a great many forms of worldly delight and power, with the ultimate price being their soul bound to the Nine Hells. While most mortals hesitate to immediately give their souls away, devils are wily and all too willing to offer smaller deals that slowly draw a mortal to the point of no return.

Thankfully, like many fiends, devils struggle to enter the Material Plane of their own accord. Needing a portal they can physically step through or else to be physically summoned, devils tend to work in smaller numbers or else through mortal cults to find potential marks for bargaining. Full-scale infernal invasions of the Material Plane are rare, likely thanks to the difficulty in transporting devilish troops, but devils are fond of more subtle corruption, since if they can encourage mortals to create dynasties of regimented cruelty, more souls will find their way to Baator of their own accord.

Sex and Sexuality Among Devils

Being the product of mortal souls, their sins intensified, many devils possess sexual desire. However, this lust is tinged with evil emotions like arrogance, wrath, and pride, devoid of love, and strictly controlled by the Hells’ governance.

Among lesser devils, sex and sexuality are dictated by superiors; a lesser devil may only fuck who and when the one they’ve sworn fealty to allows. Among the ranks of greater devils, sexual favours can be traded or bartered for, while rape and humiliation can be used as a form of intimidation or dominance. Greater devils can also demand sexual service from any devil that serves them, as can archdevils. There is however a strong taboo among devils relating to having sex with devils more than one overarching rank bellow oneself, so greater devils do now wallow around rutting with the least devils and archdevils do not waste their time fucking lesser devils.

Devils also generally dislike fucking mortals and beasts, arrogantly considering both to be pathetically unbecoming of even the least of them. However, devils, particularly lesser devils, see the necessity of swallowing their pride for a bit to further their goals. A devil may rape a mortal to intimidate them or offer sexual services to sweeten a deal. A devil may also fuck beings and creatures of the Material Plane to breed fiendish versions of them for use as war beasts and fill in the ranks since devils cannot breed among themselves.

With humanoids especially, devils can produce very special offspring. While greater and archdevils make fiendish cambions, the least and lesser devils that get pregnant by or impregnate a humanoid give birth to tieflings. Though their souls are born unchanged from a regular mortal's, capable of any moral progress and afterlife, a tiefling's devilish horns, sinewy tails, and infernal powers often cause prejudice in other mortals, spreading the seeds of cruelty the Nine Hells so crave.

Men to Devils

In general, devils tend to be aggravated by mortal men by their arrogance in assuming they can walk up and ask after sex wherever they want. Men tend to be especially annoying to devils when they insist on being loving, kind-hearted, or inclined to buck rules and traditions. While most devils would take some pleasure in the torture and murder of a man, they also know that there is more to be gained from them. A man turned tyrant can become a powerful force for inspiring other mortals to the cause of ordered villainy. Failing that, the soul of a man is as valuable to the Nine Hells’ as any other, sometimes marginally more so thanks to a man’s rarity.

Devils usually try to offer men sexual favours, servants, and powers in exchange for their souls. When a man refuses or outright combats the Nine Hells, possibly fucking any devils he defeats as victory rights. Devils so used tend to harbour a desire for vengeance for their humiliation. Meanwhile, the raped devil’s superiors consider sex with their underlings to be a commodity, thus making rapists more akin to vandals and thieves in her eyes, still loathed for stealing from her. If the victim is impregnated, however, devils are usually pragmatic enough to make use of the baby.

When a male soul arrives in the Nine Hells, it is not given any special treatment for its sex. Indeed, female devils are often hesitant to promote male devils, fearing the amount of sexual favours they will be expected to provide should he eventually come to outrank them. Male devils are granted one small mercy, however, by the infernal taboo against fucking too low beneath one’s station. As a result, greater devils looking to fuck a devil cock must promote a pathetic male lemure to the slightly less horrible rank of a lesser devil, while an archdevil must promote a male lesser devil to greater devil status. Asmodeus herself is also known to occasionally promote male devils to archdevil positions, not only to fuck her, which she is permitted to do with greater devils anyway, but because she apparently finds it entertaining to see what happens to archdevils who become suddenly outranked by a devil they have sexually tormented for centuries. So far, no male devil has become an archduke of an infernal layer. There is likely no ruling against such an eventuality, but since there are so few male devils, it is statistically unlikely any of them would get to rule a hellish layer.

Chapter 56: Barbed Devil

Known in the Nine Hells as hamatula, barbed devils are moderately sized fiends covered in a coat of jagged spikes, hooks, and quills. With keen eyes and endless patience, barbed devils keep watch over hidden saferooms and forgotten sentry nests at the behest of the greater devils.

Tireless Watchwomen

Normally raised from the most obedient and efficient of spined devils, barbed devils are the premier guardians of all that is precious and secret for the Nine Hells. While other devils, like bearded and bone devils, scramble for every shred of glory and acclaim they can put into a case for their promotion, a barbed devil treads a longer but much surer path. Instead of obsequiously running into whatever jobs a greater devil throws their way, hoping for a chance to distinguish herself, a barbed devil is entrusted with tasks that can take decades or centuries of ceaseless duty to complete but in the end present an undeniable portfolio of exceptional work, making the cause for their promotion hard to contest.

Befitting their role of watching over vaults and bodyguarding individuals of import, barbed devils are ever patient and alert. A barbed devil barely sleeps, and with resupplies from spined devils, she can stay at her post for years without a break. Little gets past a barbed devil’s eyes, and with her promotion at stake, she is unlikely to take chances, flushing out glimpsed interlopers with flame and raising the alarm at even slight provocation. When a threat is found, a barbed devil becomes fanatically compelled to rend it down to bloody shreds, often fighting to the death, especially when her guardianship takes her outside the threat of permanent death in the Nine Hells.

While barbed devils are generally wise enough to not rob those that command them, most are jealous of the riches those above them amass. Thankfully for a barbed devil, many would be thieves of their superiors' treasures carry treasures of their own, coins, gems, and artefacts plundered from elsewhere, along with magical weapons and gear. Since there is rarely any stipulation as to what must be done with the belongings of slain intruders, barbed devils often acquire their own hordes of wealth, tucked away in hidden corners, the same way they attain prestige and noted achievements for promotion, through immortal patience and dogged persistence.

Rip and Burn

Though one may picture barbed devils hanging around in hellish strongholds or in the shadow of a greater devil who plays politics, a barbed devil is no stranger to the battlefield. While other devils are better at charging through enemy ranks, the furious determination barbed devils feel to hold their ground makes them adept defenders, manning fortifications and turning chokepoints into fields of death.

Though it is rare for a barbed devil to turn down advantages like magical wands and poison in which to dip her claws, most forsake weapons and armour. The reason for this is simple enough: such additions would serve only to limit their natural destructive capabilities. With tough, spine-covered hide, a barbed devil is as hard to injure as studded leather, even if one can overcome a surprising level of agility that lets her duck and weave through the battlefield. When the enemy closes in, the barbed devil throws herself into their ranks. Even as the devil’s claws, quills, and spiny tail puncture the flesh of her victim, the barbs upon them hook in, ripping even worse wounds on the way out.

As defenders, however, barbed devils try not to grant their foes openings by charging in across no man’s land. Instead, a barbed devil prefers to winnow out attackers as they charge her. While barbed devils can use javelins, crossbows, or even learn offensive spells, they most readily call upon their native magic, the hellfire that courses through their veins. Working in concert with other devils, barbed devils throw volleys of flame into charging foes, with infernal reinforcements perfectly able to wade into the resultant sea of flame to finish the job.

Sex and Sexuality Among Barbed Devils

Generally, barbed devils are considered physically undesirable sexual partners. This is not due to a lack of technique or any such thing, but thanks to their prickly hide, which even when extracting sex by right of superiority will almost inevitably stab a sexual partner, whether she wants it to or not. Still, spikiness does not completely relieve a barbed devil of her sexual duties.

For many important greater devils, a handful of barbed devils act as the core of their security detail, acting as guardians against assassins, spies, and thieves. As well as devilish obligation, a greater devil is assured of their barbed devils’ loyalty by the fact that their word is the lesser devils’ only true route to promotion. This codependent relationship also means that a greater devil's barbed devil bodyguards are some of the least likely devils to try and use sex to blackmail, assassinate, or otherwise harm her, leading her to fuck them by pulling rank, deciding that the safety is worth the added discomfort.

For her part, a barbed devil wants to sexually dominate as much as any other devil. Mostly, this is fulfilled by grabbing wandering lemures who are unfortunate enough to wander into her guardhouse and raping them, not caring if her barbs rip them up something awful. Sometimes, a barbed devil tries to extract sex from other lower-ranking devils. Being a lesser devil herself, the Nine Hells do not consider it a crime for other lesser devils to refuse a barbed devil’s sexual demands. However, it is also no crime for a barbed devil to rape a lower-ranking devil, such as a spined devil or imp, so long as doing so doesn’t interfere with the orders of a shared superior. While she fucks a captured victim, a barbed devil does not leave her post for privacy, and she maintains just as much awareness of her surroundings.

Men to Barbed Devils

Like many other devils, barbed devils are disgusted by the lust of mortal men. Thanks to their uniquely hazardous skin, barbed devils are also some of the least common devils to be offered to a man in the name of sexual temptation. Most of the time, therefore, a barbed devil with a mortal man bothering them for sex is free to assault and kill him under the fair assumption that he is an enemy of the Nine Hells and a threat to whatever she guards.

A barbed devil will be a challenging foe for a man to subdue, more accurately described as deadly if the man fights her alone. Another option one may consider is blackmail. In the rare event a barbed devil lapses in her duty and a mortal manages to steal something she guards, a barbed devil will do almost anything to get it back, preferably before her mistress realises it’s gone. Among the many favours a barbed devil is willing to enact is fucking a mortal man, even if she gets pregnant. However, before one takes advantage of this position, they should endeavour to extract a definitive oath from the devil, since a barbed devil allowed to be hazy on her side of the deal will almost certainly use the necessary closeness of sex to tear a man apart. Like all lesser devils, barbed devils birth tieflings when a mortal impregnates them.

When it comes to male devils, a barbed devil is just as likely to be sexually interested as any other devil. With their solitary job, a barbed devil is unlikely to encounter many male devils. If she happens upon one of a lower rank than her, she may press them into her service, perhaps shutting them away with her material possessions to hide them from jealous compatriots.

Male barbed devils are somewhat rarer than males of other devil types; male sinners rarely become the more cautious lemures that are eventually promoted to the rank of barbed devil. When a male devil is promoted to barbed devil rank, it is usually at the behest of a greater devil who desires them as her bodyguard, mostly as an excuse to have a readily accessible cock on hand.

Chapter 57: Bone Devil

Calling themselves osyluth, bone devils earn their common name through their appearance, with skin drawn tight over long, spindly limbs, making them resemble giant, vaguely insectoid skeletons. Of the massed ranks of braided devils, only those that show the most cunning and ruthless determination to succeed will be promoted to the rank of bone devil, the greatest of the lesser devils.

Infernal Quartermasters

Being the highest-ranked lesser devils, bone devils receive the barest taste of power by gaining permission to relay the orders of archdevils to other lesser devils, particularly on the battlefield. While bone devils relish the opportunity to command a squad of her subordinates, she also knows that her performance as both a leader and a warrior is being closely monitored and judged by her archdevil mistress. As a result, bone devils command their troops with desperate efficiency.

If it will secure a target or complete an objective, a bone devil will gladly send her troops to their deaths with zero hesitation. Indeed, many bone devils are canny enough to create insurance against their own permanent death at great personal cost in the form of talismans and the like so that they can risk deadly conflict to impress superiors. Even when not facing immediate death, a bone devil drives her forces forward in a frenzy of ruthlessly drilled manoeuvres enacted at her screeching command.

Of course, a bone devil who commands from the back practically radiates weakness that greater devils find unbecoming in their ranks. To avoid such a reputation, bone devils are fanatical combatants. When a bone devil takes to the field, she usually comes wielding a wickedly hooked polearm. This cruel weapon can hold on to enemies it pierces, giving leverage to tear them open and means to drag notable targets away for imprisonment and future torture, granting their bone devil captor yet more prestige.

Even if a bone devil is disarmed or somehow caught by surprise, she can still overwhelm many opponents with her own natural weapons. A bone devil’s gaunt fingers taper off into thin, needle-sharp claws, able to split open flesh at a touch. Backing up these claws and being able to be used in concert with her polearm is a bone devil’s tail, akin to that of a giant scorpion, complete with malignant venom.

Desperate Flaw Seekers

So close to escaping the reviled and thankless ranks of the lesser devils, bone devils feel the eyes of their archdevil superiors upon them at all times. As a result of this constant judgement, bone devils feel immense pressure to simply never fail and to have somebody on hand to blame for their failure should the need arise.

The Nine Hells, however, teach that it is not enough to simply be successful. In order to stand out, a bone devil is also compelled to discover and bring to light the failings of others. As a result, a bone devil not currently partaking in warfare engages in constant surveillance of other bone devils, and the devils bellow them. This essentially makes bone devils responsible for policing the lesser devils at their mistress’ command, uncovering inefficiencies, finding evidence of disobedience, and triumphantly dragging those who have failed in their duties before their superiors.

The very embodiment of a low-down snitch, lesser devils quickly come to hate bone devils. This hatred is mutual. Desperate to appear perfectly successful, bone devils foist responsibility for their mistakes upon underlings and rivals while also stealing as much glory as they can from them. While this may start as a habit, many bone devils start believing their own lies, arrogantly believing that if it weren’t for the incompetence of their fellow lesser devils, she would be incapable of failure.

While making herself appear successful, a bone devil desperately tries to curry favour with her superiors, using every ounce of flattery and charm at her disposal while nearly falling over herself to see her superior’s will be done by her hand, all the while trying to hide the fact that she feels nothing but contempt and envy for them. For their part, a bone devil’s superiors normally see straight through her praises to see her for the bootlicking, duplicitous insect that she is. Still, infernal law demands that greater devils promote the most successful, least hated bone devils from time to time, and this gives the bone devils cause to keep trying to impress those above them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bone Devils

Under the intense frustrations of trying to stay constantly perfect, it is not uncommon for bone devils to lash out sexually. While there is no infernal law against it, many bone devils hesitate to fuck lemures, fearing that being seen to do so would result in being considered still bound in lesser devil habits and thus be used as an excuse to hold off on promotion.

Instead, bone devils try to get other lesser devils to fuck them, often publicly, thus being seen to act as a greater devil would. It is ultimately not in a bone devil’s power to give intractable sexual commands to lesser devils; they can, however, ask and receive no punishment for overpowering an uncooperative subordinate to fuck her, so long as it doesn’t get in the way of orders from a shared superior. Knowing the chances are that refusal will result in rape and that a bone devil will likely pry in search of punishable offences in retaliation for turning them down, most lesser devils try to avoid a horny bone devil but begrudgingly comply if ordered to fuck.

Bone devils would also try to use sex to secure promotion if the archdevils she wished to impress didn’t have a taboo against fucking lesser devils like her. Some bone devils take the risk to tease and flirt with an archdevil, in the hopes that they may fuck her in secret, giving her blackmail to leverage for promotion, or the archdevil may decide to promote her purely so that it is socially acceptable to fuck her. Most of the time, however, these flirtations are ignored or even draw out an archdevil’s ire.

More indirectly, a bone devil may try to win the sexual favour of a greater devil that seems primed for promotion, in the hopes that she will be promoted as their servant. Out of a mixture of appearance and temperament, bone devils are rarely considered all that attractive by most greater devils. Still, she can thus play a role in finding more attractive devils for their mistress’ pleasure, ultimately hoping to become the manager of their harem. Bone devils are also known to offer similar services for mortals in pacts for their souls, gifting them more attractive devil concubines or going out in the dead of night to kidnap attractive mortals for them.

Men to Bone Devils

Even worse than being seen fucking a lemure, a bone devil despises the thought of being caught fucking a mortal man. Whether she consents or not, she knows such an event will ruin her reputation for centuries to come. The exceptions to this are, of course, if she has sex with a man under a superior’s orders or if it somehow results in the attainment of a mortal soul. A bone devil can therefore suppress her horror at encountering a man so long as she believes she can get a deal out of him, offering him her body, the bodies of her underlings, kidnapped mortal women, and so much more for the price of his soul. Even if a man cannot be swayed by pacts and the like, a bone devil is often happy to “advise” a man on how best to conquer women, slowly tricking him into walking the pathway to the Nine Hells. Only when a man proves resilient to all forms of temptation does a bone devil protect her chastity with violence.

On the other hand, when it comes to male devils, a female bone devil’s response is more nuanced, largely depending on the male’s relative ranking. Bone devils that consider themselves talented flirts often flock to the scant few male archdevils, trying desperately to tempt one into promoting them to fuck; a greater devil sex toy is still a greater devil after all.

Male greater devils, on the other hand, are avoided. A bone devil may be able to flirt her way into a grater devil’s good graces, but female archdevils are hesitant to promote a male greater devil until they are practically obligated to and work hard to dissuade Asmodeus from letting many males into their ranks. Simultaneously, most male greater devils would prefer a bone devil concubine to stay at a rank where his sexual demands on her are irrevocable.

On the rare occasion that a bone devil finds a male lesser devil or lemure who is unclaimed, she has a decision to make. On the one hand, by claiming command over or imprisoning a male, she gains ready access to some of the best sex she can hope for. On the other hand, finding a male devil for a sexually interested superior is often a way to gain quite a bit of favour to go towards future promotion. As such, a bone devil must decide between her own lust and her future advancement. Most bone devils eventually choose the latter, though they may “test the product” for a while before handing him over.

Male bone devils are generally the concubinus of a greater devil who has gotten “out of control.” When a greater devil wants a male lover, she generally sees to it that he is promoted to the lowest rank possible, where they can fuck him without taboo and he is sexually satisfying. A male devil’s mistress attempts to keep him in this rank by distracting him from advancement. Some male devils see past their mistress’ games, however, and endeavour to attain the heights of infernal power for themselves. Earning the rank of bone devil is the first step in this journey.

Knowing that if their male underling breaks into the ranks of greater devils, they may begin to lose control of him, the mistress of a male bone devil does everything in her power to halt or reverse his advance. She may restrict his missions to those of little acclaim or purposely put him in the path of sexual distractions to make him fail. However, once a male has made it to the rank of bone devil, he will likely see these traps for what they are, pushing him to work harder and unleash his sexual fury only on his own terms. This stalemate can continue for millennia, often until it draws the attention of an archdevil. If this archdevil chooses to promote him, it may be for a variety of reasons; she may desire a lover of her own, or else she may want to indirectly punish his mistress, turning the tables on her by making him her superior.

Chapter 58: Braided Devil (Art)

Known in their native plane as tortizu, the braided devils are the rank and file of the Nine Hell’s armies. Externally akin to a humanoid, braided devils are still readily identified by their odd skin tones, short tails, and prehensile tendrils in place of hair. Loaded with poison barbs, these tendrils fold into simple braids when not in use, earning the tortizu her name among mortals.

Belligerent Legionaries

Promoted from fiercely determined imps and the most mindlessly aggressive of lemures, braided devils form the bulk of the Nine Hells' forces in the Blood War, an eternal series of conflicts between the infernal order of the Nine Hells and the demonic chaos of the Abyss. While it is through the expert tactics and planning of more intelligent devils that the Nine Hells have held their own against the abyssal tide, it is the unflinching obedience and near mechanical enactment of their orders seen in the braided devils that bring the Hells’ ruthless tactics to life.

More than simply obedient to their officers and commanders, bone and horned devils usually, braided devils are filled with a simple-minded belligerence and hatred for all things anarchic or benevolent. Though most braided devils will come to understand the scale of their battles, few fight with lofty goals or ambitions in mind. Instead, a braided devil fights because she despises the warriors set against her, and the Nine Hells punish inadequate soldiers severely.

The Nine Hells is not a plane of free handouts or fair deals for those at the bottom. As such, in exchange for her undying fealty, a braided devil can usually expect little more than ragged clothes and a single weapon of infernal iron, typically a savage, saw-toothed glaive. As the centuries roll on, a braid devil may claim other equipment from fallen enemies or as a rare reward, gaining armour beyond their leather-tough skin and additional weapons as trophies of their prior battles.

However, the Nine Hells doesn’t value braided devils for their individual qualities. Infernal commanders use braided devils because they are unflinching, expendable, and seldom ask questions. No matter how unwinnable a battle may seem, no matter the horror they are set against, a phalanx of braided devils will never show fear, not retreating until the instant they are told to. Braided devils are also supremely uncreative. While this may seem like a flaw, it means that a braided devil will remember and carry out orders from its superiors with absolute precision, wasting no time on flourishes or personal grabs at glory. Those braided devils that show their own ideas rarely remain braided devils for long, being promoted, demoted, or killed in rapid fashion by the Nine Hells’ standards, depending on how their risks play out.

Infernal Squalor

Even the soldiers of the Nine Hells do not fight constantly. Every so often, a braided devil must be given time to recuperate, adapt to changes in tactics, and reacquaint herself with the state of the Hells. As such, braided devils are sometimes taken from the front lines of the Blood War to perform marginally safer duties. This “time off” is usually spent on guard duty, training drills, and shepherding flocks of enslaved lemures to where they’re required.

When not needed at all, braided devils normally linger in unclean, dishevelled barracks, passing the time by gambling for random scrap, sleeping with one eye open in case a fellow soldier decides to turn thief, and reminiscing somewhat fondly on the horrors they’ve seen on the battlefield. Many braided devils are irked by their required leave and, surprisingly, not because of the conditions they are forced to live under.

Being dragged away from the theatre of war means that a braided devil must, even if it is in only a tiny way, interact with the politics of the Nine Hells, a facet of infernal life they are uniquely poor at, most notably when it comes to their temper. Anger and frustration are unavoidable emotions for devils. Most suppress their rage when necessary, lashing out with it on an underling or feeding it into some plot or other later. When a braided devil feels anger, she expresses anger, a behaviour useful in combat but all too easily taken advantage of by cannier devils.

Sex and Sexuality Among Braided Devils

Being lesser devils, braided devils are sometimes called upon to sexually service a greater devil, particularly their commander. Beyond these opportunistic occasions, most devils don’t go looking for braided devils to fuck, simply because their brutish crassness makes them unpleasant lovers. Some braided devils learn to fuck more effectively, however, especially those with an unusual level of cunning and creativity. By being competent sexual servants, these unique braided devils earn the protection and favour of particular greater devils, facilitating future promotion.

Sexually competent braided devils are also useful when interacting with mortals. Being tall, strong, and visually akin to humanoids, mortal women can sometimes consider a braided devil to be somewhat attractive. Though the unpleasantness of an average braided devil usually dispels this belief, a bearded devil able to pass herself off as charming can enact simpler missions of seduction and tiefling breeding on unsuspecting mortals. Though she will not refuse a mission from her infernal superior, many braided devils find these missions to be particularly onerous, to the point of being a punishment.

When it comes to their own sexual desires, a frustrated braided devil generally throws herself on a lemure or another of her kind. While a braided devil will brutally rape a lemure without provocation between other acts of mindless savagery, sex with another braided devil is a more nuanced affair. While a braided devil may try to dominate her fellow warriors, it is not uncommon for some braided devils to show an uncharacteristic interest in being an effective and enjoyable lover. This, of course, is not out of any fondness for their squad mates and is instead a purely selfish powerplay. In a situation where a braided devil must choose which of her allies to support, being her preferred lay may be the deciding factor, all other things being equal.

Men to Braided Devils

Being warriors with little experience of the social side of infernal life, braided devils generally feel and openly express hatred for men. A braided devil will usually assume any mortal man she encounters to be an enemy to be killed with lethal force unless specifically commanded otherwise by a superior. Indeed, many higher-ranking devils use this fact as a way to get rid of troublesome men they have promised not to harm, “forgetting” to alert their soldiers of the alliance.

Braided devils also despise being fucked by men, mortal or infernal. Even though male devils can’t hamper them with eight months of pregnancy, they can still humiliate them with their sexual proficiency, leaving them disorientated, exposed, and bloated with cum. Though she won’t openly defy a male superior, most braided devils make their hatred clear. For their part, male greater devils find the impotent snarling of their underlings an entertaining addition when fucking them.

Male braided devils do exist. However, the hair of a male braided devil is rather more similar to that of a humanoid, being neither prehensile, venomous, nor typically kept in braids. Instead, a male braided devil’s animate tendrils grow from their jaw and chin in a manner akin to the facial hair grown by some mortal men. For this reason, male braided devils are more often called barbazu than tortizu and earn the name bearded devil in the mortal common parlance.

Among male lesser devils, bearded devils make up the undeniable majority. This is because most male lumures are promoted for the express reason that a greater devil wants to try cock, and bearded devils are among the lowest-ranked, most controllable states a devil can be in while not being taboo to fuck him. Many bearded devils languish at their rank, resenting the domination but being too tempted by sex to go out and earn themselves a promotion.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art here. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 59: Chain Devil

On the whole, the denizens of the of the Nine Hells are all rather fond of inflicting pain on others. Beings of grim evil, devils can generally only draw a measure of satisfaction hen it comes at the expense of another experiencing physical or mental anguish. Fairly early in their infernal careers it becomes clear that some devils treat the harm of others as more than a hobby, spending their every free moment mastering all forms of agony. When this need eclipses a lesser devil’s drive to advance, they may be taken off the pitfall filled, arduous path to infernal ascendancy to be promoted into a kyton, or chain devil as mortals call them.

Once a devil becomes a chain devil, it is unlikely she will ever seek promotion again. Resembling humanoids in a shawl of chains, a chain devil rejects the chance to escape lesser devil status in exchange for an eternity among the Nine Hells’ premier torturers. While a chain devil summoned to a greater or archdevil’s command must comply, the overarching structure of the infernal hierarchy is replaced with brutally simple rules in the chain devil’s native range. In the Nine Hells’ prisons and torture chambers, there are no lesser or greater devils, only the kytons and their miserable playthings.

Artists of Pain

While practically all devils can happily inflict torture on another being, none do so quite as well as a chain devil. With time on her hands, a chain devil can be incredibly meticulous, knowing from centuries of practise exactly what she can do to maximise the agony inflicted on another while ensuring her victim remains alive and useful. Even when confronted with battle, a chain devil ensures that her foe is defeated in the most inhumane way imaginable.

A chain devil fights with the chains that cover her body. More than simple restraints, a chain devil festoons her chains with blades, spikes, and hooks that sink into a foe’s flesh. Grabbing hold of her opponent, more and more of the chain’s vile accessories pierce them, slowly exsanguinating them through a thousand small tears. While a chain devil can leave her opponent to bleed out and die, she usually prefers to leave her foes alive so that she may capture them and have some more entertainment on her own terms.

As astute torturers, a chain devil knows that there is more to pain than the pain of the flesh. Chain devils know how to truly break their victim’s spirit by also reaching into their minds. When one meets the blazing, sadistic eyes of a chain devil, she can see the faces that inspire one’s strongest emotions: deceased loved ones and hated enemies. With simple illusion, a chain devil can then sculpt herself into their fiendish double, an alarming experience to say the least.

Most of the victims a chain devil is given are in fact other devils, miscreants or incompetents determined to be in need of correction by their superiors. A chain devil’s preferred victims, however, are mortals. Where devils are largely inured to a life of suffering, mortals are often blissfully ignorant of the depths of suffering that they can experience. When the opportunity arises, either by mortal adventurers foolishly taking a visit to the Hells or by a mortal cult calling for a chain devil’s expertise, most chain devils will almost fall over themselves to be the one who gets to show the unfortunate mortals the agony they have been missing out on.

Penal Fortresses

While most devils will happily hand out impromptu justice by subjecting unsuccessful or uncooperative underlings to torture by their hands, many undesirable behaviours are considered crimes in the Nine Hells, crimes that must be dealt with in an official capacity. For devils, the worst punishment is to be demoted to a lesser form. Many more crimes, however, are instead punished with dubious mercy in the form of a period of torture lasting days, years, decades, or even centuries, depending on the severity of the crime. Having their own duties to attend to, a condemned devil’s superior is rarely in a position to hand out the punishment themselves. Instead, the prisoners of the Nine Hells are sent off to one of countless penal colonies, colonies the chain devils call home.

The abodes of chain devils are often great foreboding keeps or ceiling-suspended cities, festooned with cages, spikes, and, of course, chains. These decorations not only match the ascetics of chain devils and ensure that there are always handy implements of imprisonment and torture around, but they also align strongly with a chain devil’s supernatural powers. With a mere mental exertion, a chain devil can inflict nearby inanimate chains with a sliver of their sadistic will, bringing them to life under her control. As such, prisoners that dare riot or invaders foolish enough to break in can be assaulted by the very prison itself.

As one may expect, life under a chain devil’s care is awful. Most prisoners are kept under permanent lock and key with blades and hooks pinning them in place; even those allowed movement are only allowed such freedom to be hunted for sport. Power and prestige are no refuge. Within the bounds of their prisons, chain devils answer to their hellish layer’s archduchess, Asmodeus, and nobody else. It is for this reason that even greater devils are fearful of chain devils and that chain devils so rarely pursue further promotion. After all, why pass up a position where they control the fates of the Nine Hells’ most treacherous elites?

With their incredibly unsavoury reputations and seemingly nothing to gain beyond a life of agony, one would think that mortal adventurers, even those desperate or crazy enough to dive into the Nine Hells, would steer clear. Unfortunately, there are rumours and tales that draw poor mortals of all stripes. Within the walls of some of the greatest infernal prisons, beings of incredible ancient power are said to be imprisoned. From the darkest of evil’s powers to the greatest paragons of good, there are said to be prisoners of all kinds just waiting to reward a band of brave mortals for setting them free. Whether these prisoners really are held captive or if these tales are mere rumours made by the chain devils to draw in more victims is unknown.

Sex and Sexuality Among Chain Devils

Enjoying the pain of others even above their own physical pleasure, chain devils more often stick to pure torture rather than allowing sexual assault to sully their art. However, just as with any tool of torture, chain devils know that sex sometimes has a role. Devils in general prefer to be served sexually and hate to be seen as a sexual toy; however, by making a prisoner of theirs desperate enough with pain to cast their self-respect aside, a chain devil can have them plead to sexually serve. This not only summons the pain of humiliation but also the knowledge that their respite is only temporary; the moment the chain devil they’re pleasuring gets bored, they will be thrown back into the maelstrom of agony that is daily life in an infernal prison.

Chain devils also use their nature as torturers to lure in specific kinds of mortal souls. Some people are known to have masochistic tendencies, a desire to be hurt and dominated somewhat by their sexual partners. On the whole, most of these individuals have the self control and sanity to go about their lives in a perfectly safe and moral way. However, for those with a less healthy relationship with their fetishes and no understanding of their limits, the stories of the Nine Hells’ tortures attract their attention.

To prey on these misguided souls, many books and artifacts have been produced by the chain devils to be seeded across the mortal realm. When found, these items teach a would-be cultist how to summon a chained devil fourth, offering the “joys of agony” in return. Unfortunately for these souls, a chain devil more often goes far beyond the limits of any mortal, no matter how masochistic, and will not take no as an answer.

Men to Chain Devils

Chain devils hate men for their apparent quest to bring pleasure and life to the multiverse, acting in direct opposition to their own goal of terror and pain. Even men with sadistic habits tend to look for or train women to enjoy the torments they inflict on them. This, in the eyes of chain devils, is an unforgivable perversion of torture’s intended purpose. For this reason, chain devils practically never consent to fuck a man mortal or infernal unless commanded to by somebody with the power to inflict such a horror upon them.

For uncounted millennia, likely since the first chain devil heard of the first man, chain devils have strove to find the ultimate in ironic punishment to inflict upon malekind as a whole. Most chain devils agree that this torment would involve turning a man from his very nature, making him repulsed by sex itself. So far, this endeavour has been completely unsuccessful. While a man may not be interested in fucking particular female beings, he will always be sexually attracted to something. Indeed, the attempts to completely remove a man's sexual desire have caused several men, in states of complete insanity, to turn on their captors with strength and lust previously unknown to them, often knocking several chain devils up with tieflings before escaping or collapsing dead.

Even among male devils, most prefer the power and ability to make females obsess over them rather than inflicting pain and dread. As such, few male devils become chain devils. Indeed, some male devils are promoted to chain devils as a plausibly deniable punishment for excessive ambition. Since the pleasure a male devil can cause through sex is at odds with their duties, a male devil who has earned the right to promotion must either repress his sexual desires until he can finally be promoted again or face demotion and end up back at the rank his mistress considers right for him.

Chapter 60: Erinyes

As beautiful as they are cold and cruel, the Erinyes hide their infernal nature beneath the glamour of a divine appearance. Most Erinyes look for all the world, like bird-winged humanoids or even angels. Indeed, many devout souls have been led astray into the Nine Hells by mistaking an Erinyes for a herald of the Upper Planes. An Erinyes’ role is not on the whole that of a tempter, however, despite their expertise; instead, Erinyes act as the elite warriors of the Nine Hells, loyally enacting the dictates of their archduchess.

Fallen Angels

While it is technically possible for a horned devil to be promoted to an Erinyes, as may happen if her superiors believe she lacks the discipline to join the ranks of the ice devils, most Erinyes are in fact not descended from mortal souls. Instead, Erinyes are, unfortunately, as they appear to be, the corrupted forms of angels, fallen from the hights of Mount Celestia.

Though such corruption happens every now and then today, normally in response to some event of cataclysmic evil, most Erinyes came to be long ago, during the events that went on to form the Nine Hells as they are today. According to many myths, Asmodeus, ruler of the Nine Hells, was once a servant of benevolent law and a general of the Seven Heavens. When the wound that is the Abyss opened up, threatening to swallow all of Nymphona’s creation in chaos, it was Asmodeus and the angels that served her that led the charge.

However, in her great battle of Heaven’s law versus the chaos of the Abyss, Asmodeus and her forces became increasingly detached from the war between evil and good. Asmodeus had his angels perform ever more immoral acts to win out against the demons, including the syphoning of mortal souls for power, the forging of dark pacts, and all manner of other dark foulness. When the war died down and the Abyss’ influence was constrained mostly to the Lower Planes, the corruption of Asmodeus’ army was too great for them to be welcomed back into Mount Celestia’s embrace. Instead, for her crimes, Asmodeus was cast down into the Lower Planes, creating the nine-layered pit that would become Baator. Those angels that fell with her, forever bound to that pit, became the Erinyes.

As one may expect, the Erinyes loathe their still-celestial brethren for rejecting them. The Erinyes do not believe they have fallen from grace. Instead, they have risen to a cosmic burden. As the Erinyes believe, it is only through the pitiless application of law that the planes are spared complete consumption by chaos. Thanks to this sense of responsibility and a lack of mortal ambition, few Erinyes seek promotion.

Infernal Crusaders

Taking to the wing in flocks, Erinyes are some of the greatest combatants the Nine Hells have on offer. Though normally equipped with the Nine Hells' finest infernal steel plate, perfectly tempered swords, and demon horn bows, an Erinyes can turn nearly anything into a lethal weapon. Inherited from their celestial origins, the touch of an Erinyes invests their weapons with divine power, letting even a mundane blade slice through a demon’s hide as if it were blessed.

Being separated from the Seven Heavens of Mount Celestia, however, Erinyes cannot channel its radiant power. Instead, the weapons of an Erinyes radiate a palpable aura of sickness, giving her sword a venomous bite. Though less useful against the supernatural demonic forces, an Erinyes’ diseased weapons can quickly overcome any mortal hero that dares challenge them. Even a scratch from an arrow fired from an Erinyes bow can lay a mortal low with an illness only divine intervention can cure.

Many Erinyes supplement their skill in battle with various magical artifacts. Most commonly, Erinyes will carry with them ropes of entanglement, enchanted ropes that, on their handler’s command, spring to life in order to tie up a target. Bound in this way, even the most powerful of foes are left open to assault. Of course, these ropes are also remarkably useful for securing prisoners, which the Erinyes use for their secondary purpose of capturing the Nine Hells’ most wanted, be they mortal or devil, in need of punishment.

Sex and Sexuality Among Erinyes

On the whole, Erinyes are too interested in furthering the law of the Nine Hells to waste time and resources on expending lust on lesser devils. As for other greater devils and archdevils, Erinyes still see no reason to waste their precious time fucking them, since they have no interest in currying favour. While greater devils and archdevils may ask to fuck an Erinyes, Asmodeus herself has given the Erinyes the unique right to refuse sex to any devil, even their superior. Still, there are times where an Erinyes sees value in sex, be it to convince a superior to see things their way or to tempt a mortal into signing their soul over to the Nine Hells. Still, Erinyes are hesitant to use sex to their advantage, mostly out of fear of resembling a very similar devil.

Though identical to an Erinyes in form, physiology, and ultimate capability, pleasure devils are ultimately considered beneath them in the infernal hierarchy, sharing the lowest rung of the greater devils with the horned devils. Mostly promoted from lesser devils who tried to fuck their way to the top, pleasure devils get their wish in possibly the most humiliating way.

Though technically having the physical and social power of a greater devil, pleasure devils exist solely to serve the sexual whims of any greater devils and archdevils under her archduchess’ command, or even the archduchess themselves. Identified by the collar and metal bikini they wear instead of an Erinyes’ helm and plate mail, political mobility is especially difficult for a pleasure devil since sex, the main task for which they are assigned, grants no advancement towards their promotion into a true Erinyes. The only time sex gains a pleasure devil advancement towards promotion is when she uses it to tempt a mortal soul towards damnation or breeds a cambion for her superiors. A pleasure devil thus desperately seeks out chances to perform these tasks, as well as assassinations and kidnappings, between the inevitable centuries of being the rest of the Nine Hells’ sexual toy.

Erinyes rarely use pleasure devils but also offer them no sympathy, instead reviling them for sharing their form. When a pleasure devil gains enough acclaim to be promoted, she is inducted into the Erinyes only out of obligation, and so-called “whore-raised” Erinyes are treated in the lowest estimation by their peers. Many pleasure devils don’t get to that point, instead losing themselves completely in a world of lust and submission.

So humiliating is the state of the pleasure devil that temporary demotion to the rank of pleasure devil for a period of years or centuries is sometimes applied in place of torture for greater devils.

Men to Erinyes

Erinyes and pleasure devils alike know that with their beauty and sexual acclaim, they stand the greatest chance of all devils to corrupt a mortal man’s soul to join the ranks of the Nine Hells. Knowing that a man usually has too many options to make signing his soul away for one more partner all that appealing, the devil instead poses as a mortal woman, or an angelic guide, in love with the man and willing to be his lover. With a secure place at his side, she then proceeds to try and bend the man’s behaviour until he is able to justify great acts of evil in the name of order, thus directing his soul to the Nine Hells.

If her ruse is found out or the man stubbornly refuses to bend towards evil, the devil’s response is normally vengeful fury. This reaction is especially likely if she is a true Erinyes, an infernal warrior who has swallowed her pride to fuck a man, possibly have his cambion baby, and then find out in the end that it was all for nothing. While a pleasure devil may try to kill an uncooperative man on the spot, sulking back in the Nine Hells should he overcome her, an Erinyes will likely plot a campaign of revenge that lasts the rest of the man’s life.

If there is no hiding her infernal nature, an Erinyes or pleasure devil will only fuck if they think a man is truly open to siding with the Nine Hells without deception. Otherwise, they may use their sexy form to distract a man in combat but otherwise won’t feign any attraction.

Among true Erinyes, males are vanishingly rare, since the bulk of angels fell before the first male souls came to be and remarkably few male angels have fallen. One would think male pleasure devils would be significantly more common, seeing as most male devils at least somewhat owe their promotion to their sexual talent and the desire of archdevils to fuck infernal cock. However, this is not the case; only about half of male devils that are promoted to greater devils become pleasure devils, with the other half mostly becoming horned devils.

The reason for this split is multifaceted. Most simply is the issue of size; horned devils average around three feet taller than the average pleasure devil, with males having cocks to match. More pressingly, however, is the matter of shame. Most devils extract at least some enjoyment from sex with a pleasure devil by knowing how humiliated and unhappy being sexually used makes the pleasure devil. Though male devils would generally prefer to be sexually dominant, it is remarkably difficult to stop a male pleasure devil from taking some pleasure from a position where he can demand sex from lesser devils and virtually all other devils are interested in having sex with him. Many promoters decide it is better to force a male devil into military service as a horned devil so that he will at least suffer some aggravation.

Chapter 61: Horned Devil

Malebranche, as horned devils are known in the Nine Hells, are perhaps the most iconic representations of a devil in the mortal psyche. Tall as an ogre in stature, with a strong yet agile build, horned devils are graced with iron-hard skin, broad wings, and a barbed whip for a tail, not to mention the ornate horns for which they are named.

Despite their fame in literature, art, and infernal decor, horned devils are in fact the least of the greater devils, promoted from the most exceptional bone and barbed devils. For all their capabilities, the real powers in the Nine Hells see horned devils as little more than the dogs of war.

Devils of War

Strong, fast, and hardened by millennia of battlefield experience, horned devils are veterans of the Blood War, the unending conflict between the Nine Hells and the Abyss. Though their experience and tenacity means that they may be put in charge of a platoon of lesser devils, it is just as common for horned devils to serve as the elite foot soldiers under the command of a higher ranked devil still, generally an ice devil or Erinyes who in turn reports to a pit fiend or archdevil in turn.

Generally striking form above, flocks of horned devils act first as living airborne artillery. The power of the Nine Hells within her, a horned devil conjures fire as easily as she may breathe. Since all devils are fireproof, horned devils wield their natural flame liberally, hurling fiery bolts into the fray, creating a burning morass of a battlefield that their landbound allies walk through without issue.

Despite being effective flame throwers, horned devils do not hesitate to join a melee. Thanks to the durability of their skin and the need to stay agile in the air, most horned devils wear remarkably little armour. Instead, a horned devil is normally equipped with a long, forked spear with which to dive into the battlefield. A horned devil fights with everything at her disposal, not only her weaponry but also her lacerating tail, able to leave jagged wounds that simply refuse to stop bleeding.

Off the battlefield, horned devils are normally kept as bodyguards for more important devils. Most of the time, the horned devils that follow a pit fiend or archdevil around are less a matter of security and more to show off power, displaying just how many greater devils they can afford to keep on staff.

Meat-headed Layabouts

Though obedient and fearsome in battle, horned devils have a not-unearned reputation for laziness. Though not fearful of combat, most horned devils actively avoid being sent off to fight or doing anything even remotely resembling their jobs, preferring to spend their time idly lazing about, bullying lesser devils, all the while arguing and gambling amongst each other. Requests for assistance are normally met with scorn, and virtually nothing short of a direct order from a higher-up can prompt a horned devil into action. Even when orders are given, most horned devils prefer to delegate their work to lesser devils whenever they can.

The reason for this idleness is, in fact, fairly simple. For most devils, being a horned devil will be their first taste of the power and status of the greater devils. As such, horned devils are eager to take advantage of as many of the privileges being a greater devil grants them while avoiding as many of their new responsibilities as possible without getting demoted back to lesser devil status.

Despite its penchant for ruthless punishment and brutal efficiency, the Nine Hells sees the sense in giving their more valuable soldiers rest and mental reprieve. As such, ruling devils forgive the horned devils some of their lounging and often go so far as to facilitate occasional relaxation through establishments like gambling halls, taverns, brothels, and theatres, all twisted to suit the darkest of infernal pleasures, built to provide distraction to horned devils, their superiors, and their superiors’ guests.

Of course, the Nine Hells is far from a plane of generosity. The price of even the briefest escape from hellish daily life is high, and horned devils complete their daily duties out of obligation rather than with the promise of monetary reward. As such, horned devils must scrape together funds on their own time, or, more accurately, demand treasure be gathered for them by their lesser devil underlings. Thanks to this, horned devils often have surprising hidden stores of coin and other valuables, mostly in store to fund their own hedonistic debauchery.

 Sex and Sexuality Among Horned Devils

Among the many activities horned devils seek out that aren’t their job, sex is a fairly common one. As well as going to infernal brothels to pay for the chance to fuck pleasure devils and specially captured slaves, horned devils can also find free sex from the lesser devils under their command.

Finally at a stage where refusal to have sex with her can see a lesser devil face punishments up to and including demotion for repeat offenders, many horned devils revel in their newfound social status. For most lesser devils under a lustful horned devil’s command, it is normally best to either avoid her sexual attention or accept what’s coming, perhaps using their skill at pleasuring their mistress to gain some small influence over her.

Horned devils are also known to try their luck coercing or forcing each other into having sex. While it is perfectly acceptable for a horned devil to reject the sexual demands of those in her rank, rape within the ranks is also perfectly acceptable, so long as it doesn’t disrupt a superior’s orders.

Superior devils are also known to seek the sexual use of horned devils. While only archdevils can outright order a horned devil to sexually serve them, many greater devils can convince horned devils to submit to their request on the basis that sex is the easier task. Alternatively, devils such as pit fiends may make sexual demands that do not quite count as sex under infernal law, making the orders once again irrefutable. Examples include carrying her breasts for her to show off their size or working together to form a seat with their bodies.

Men to Horned Devils.

Horned devils are the greater devils closest to backsliding into the ranks of lesser devils, thus being the most at risk to lose their privileges they have grown so fond of. This makes horned devils, while somewhat satisfied with languishing at their current rank without much work being put into swift advancement, uncharacteristically fervent at avoiding failure, covering it up if it occurs. It is for this reason that female horned devils hold a strong contempt for men. Any mortal man capable of facing them carries the risk of not only foiling a horned devil’s commands, but also leaving an extraordinarily difficult to hide mark of their defeat in the form of a year and a half long pregnancy.

Thanks to the deep taboo devils have around expressing lust on a filthy mortal, a pregnant horned carries in her womb nearly undeniable evidence that they were defeated or coerced by a mortal man. The shame of this personal failing can only be averted by counter-evidence, proving that their impregnation was to advance the cause of the Nine Hells, to tempt away a man’s soul, or to make a cambion under her superiors' orders, for example. Even then, an infernal superior who sends a horned devil into a sexual mission rather than a pleasure devil boldly shows contempt to that particular underling, making others wonder what the horned devil did to earn such condemnation.

As for male devils, horned devils may be greater devils, but they are normally nowhere near influential enough to requisition the permanent service of a male lesser devil. Instead, a horned devil looking to experience sex with a male must usually pay an exorbitant sum of treasure to or perform monumental favours for the male devil’s mistress. Other horned devils simply hope that a male devil that has gone beneath notice will end up assigned to a squadron under her command.

Of the male greater devils, a great number of them are horned devils. Generally promoted so that female archdevils can keep them as sexual servants without taboo, most male horned devils find themselves in a fairly comfortable position, free to fuck any lesser devil they can get their hands on when they aren’t being fucked by an all-powerful archdevil. This shrinks their motivation to seek promotion most of the time. Sometimes, however, the envy a male horned devil feels for her mistress’ power and right to fuck virtually anyone in the Nine Hells drives him to doggedly chase after promotion, climbing the ranks in what the Nine Hells consider blinding speed.

Chapter 62: Ice Devil (Art)

Though many imagine the Nine Hells as a blistering landscape of brimstone and hellfire, this is not the condition of every infernal layer, however. Stygia and Cania in particular, the fifth and eighth layers of the Nine Hells, respectively, are known to instead be realms of freezing cold. It is on these frigid planes that the insectoid gelugons, also known as ice devils, inhabit in the greatest numbers. Though most comfortable in their frozen homes, ice devils march fourth in search of cause for advancement, leading the Nine Hells’ armies with might, intellect, and faultless resolve.

Cold-Blooded Commanders

Some of the most ancient and powerful devils in the infernal legions, the ice devils, both fight and order whole armies of devils into war for the Nine Hells. As a military leader, ice devils are entirely ruthless. Feeling nothing but contempt for devils weaker than themselves, an ice devil will gladly send hundreds of her soldiers to their doom for the slightest advantage in battle. Knowing they are far from beloved, an ice devil scours her ranks for signs of decent, punishing even the slightest flaw or disobedience with horrifying harshness.

As well as driving their troops into horrendous battles through terror and obligation, ice devils also hold their own in combat. With an arthropodal shell made of iron-hard plates, an ice devil can shrug off all but the most fearsome blows. As well as inbuilt defences, an ice devil’s body also hosts a wide array of natural weapons, sharp claws, piercing mandibles, and a strongly muscled tail.

To supplement their martial prowess, ice devils also have a range of arcane abilities. While some ice devils actively pursue the calling of wizardry, spending centuries researching spells that inflict cold and ice, all ice devils have natural access to some frigid power. Living and breathing the power of their frozen preferred home, the touch of an ice devil can freeze flesh, even as her natural weapons sunder it. By focusing this infernal chill, an ice devil can even sculpt the battlefield with ice, creating thick walls and frozen domes that provide cover and trap the foe. Some ice devils choose to focus their icy powers on singular foes with magical spears, capable of penetrating a foe with such cold that they can become lethally slowed.

Faultless Fiends

Usually promoted from the most ambitious of horned devils, almost every ice devil dreams of the day when they are finally free of their eternal suffering and join the ranks of the infernal nobility. In terms of the infernal hierarchy, ice devils are maddeningly close to achieving their goal. Just one rank below the pit fiends, the first of the infernal nobles, an ice devil’s dream of ascension is far from a distant fantasy; it is all but in her grasp.

However, as if to redouble her desperation, the requirements to attain promotion from ice devil to pit fiend are some of the most difficult and stringent in all the Nine Hells. In order for an ice devil to even be considered for promotion, she must have a verifiable record that proves that she has served the Nine Hells for at least seven-hundred-and-seventy-seven years straight without recorded failure. In reality, an application at this point is most likely to be glanced at and tossed aside. Many ice devils are forced to scrounge together up to nine such sets of perfect records before their achievements are recognised.

As well as an impressive record, an ice devil also needs the favour of an archdevil. As such, ice devils are fanatically loyal to whomever they have sworn fealty to, doing everything to complete missions of warfare and corruption as they command.

Thanks to their sheer desperation to succeed with no backsliding, ice devils are always on the lookout for easy victories, weaker forces that they can crush to show their usefulness to their commander with little chance of the foe’s escape. When driven to perform a harder task, for example, under an archdevil’s orders, she will expend any and all means to overcome the challenge, no matter how many troops she must lose or how much collateral damage she causes. When failure seems inevitable, ice devils look for others around them to pin the blame on or ways to hide their mistakes from the record. When an ice devil cannot escape the consequences of her mistakes, she endeavours to drag down as many of those around her as she can.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ice Devils

Perhaps thanks to their icy nature, many assume that ice devils are fairly nonsexual beings. This is not the complete truth. Under constant pressure to perform and the need to be utterly faultless in their actions, ice devils are under constant pressure to find outlets for their mounting stress. While some ice devils engage in grotesque artistry and others throw themselves into forbidden lore, sex is not an uncommon way for ice devils to express their frustration.

Not wanting to appear slovenly or inattentive to their duties, ice devils are rarely public in their sexual forays. Taking advantage of her greater devil rank, an ice devil covertly summons lesser devils and pleasure devils to her chambers to fuck. Even more so than other greater devils, ice devils loathe their weaker sexual partners and do their best to ignore them even as they have sex. The chosen sexual relief of an ice devil is usually monitored strictly and forbidden from speaking or even moving out of turn. Many lesser devils hope to gain a faster promotion by serving an ice devil’s sexual needs with skill, obedience, and discretion, but ice devils are often bitter about their own inability to find promotion, so they will cast their sexual servants out into the cold for the slightest imperfection.

At the same time, however, sex is also a fairly low-risk way for an ice devil to gain the favour of an archdevil under the table. Though being directly responsible for an archdevil’s pleasure puts immense scrutiny on an ice devil, thousands of years of practise also mean that it is unlikely an ice devil willing to risk this method of promotion would mess up.

Men to Ice Devils

In the Nine Hells, pregnancy by a mortal man is one of the most clear, difficult to hide signs of failure an ice devil can display. As such, ice devils do their upmost to avoid such a fate. Unless they have a strong incentive not to, an ice devil will have any man she encounters immediately killed. Despite this aggression, ice devils rarely engage mortal men directly, for up close, a poorly timed spell or unexpectedly resilient fighter may put an ice devil at his mercy.

Instead, most ice devils attempt to kill men from afar, retreating from them and sending wave after wave of their own troops to fight them. Ice devils are not cowards, however; when ordered to engage by superiors or cornered, an ice devil will assault a man with every weapon at her disposal. Only on the incredibly unusual occasion when it is in a superior’s interest to have it happen does an ice devil let a mortal man fuck her and impregnate her with an often-icy cambion. In these events, pregnancy is not punished but is instead considered a success.

When it comes to male devils, ice devils may sometimes, in the vast armies they command, be able to find a male or two among them. If an ice devil is fortunate enough to find such a male, she will likely have them secreted away as their own personal sex toys, kept in their chambers in such a way that her superiors don’t notice the man and requisition them from her.

Male ice devils are fairly uncommon, but are usually just as driven to promote to the point where they can rule over so many more infernal pussies as a pit fiend, often to the point that they despair at the “mere” army of female devils already at their disposal. As one may expect, a male ice devil expresses his frustrations by systematically fucking nearly every unit in her army over the centuries of time.

Interestingly, Asmodeus herself often promotes male ice devils out of turn; her reason for artificially inflating the male pit fiend population is unknown. Some think it is to encourage misandry in the ranks out of jealousy; others think it is to keep female archdevils from getting too comfortable with the possibility of one day being outranked by males to threaten them. Others still suspect that Asmodeus has found some unique use for male pit fiends, for which she needs a critical mass.

Notes:

Big thanks to Romman08 on FurAffinity for the art on this one!

Chapter 63: Imp

Tiny, red-skinned, bat-winged fiends, imps are embodiments of begrudging infernal obedience. The lowest and weakest form of lesser devils, imps infest all layers of the Nine Hells, scout out other evil planes, and can even slip into the Material Plane every now and then. Wherever they go, imps are the little-thought-of, rarely-noticed agents of their mistresses’ darkest designs.

Unseen Eyes

Though the lowest recognised rung on the infernal hierarchy, imps are created from the lemures that show the most ambition and cunning. As such, an imp can usually be trusted to complete her tasks with a moderate amount of competence. While braided devils are most useful when marching in lines, and it takes a flock of spined devils to effectively rain down hellfire, a lone imp can be entrusted to complete most reasonable tasks with little backup or oversight.

Though armed with a scorpion-like stinger, imps are in truth poor combatants, especially against demons, who are all totally immune to her venom by virtue of their fiendish nature. Instead, imps function best when utilised for their mobility and discretion, employed as the eyes and ears of more powerful devils.

Most obviously useful in this endeavour is an imp’s innate ability to turn invisible. Making herself unseen to most eyes helps an imp spy on important rivals or underlings of her mistress, or else get through hostile areas in order to scout the area or deliver messages the sender would rather not draw unwelcome attention.

In addition to her supernatural abilities, imps are also gifted for their particular tasks by the virtue of the souls from which they are formed. Emboldened by their own ambitions, an imp notices and recalls whatever she sees in surprising detail. In addition, many imps become talented at understanding the motivations of others, letting them draw useful inferences from whatever they observe. Despite her talents, an imp is still a weak and looked down upon devil, whom others eagerly seek reason to punish or torment. Thanks to this, most imps quickly become bitter, miserable, and all around unpleasant to interact with.

Infernal Servants

Being so small and weak, imps struggle to attain the credit they need to attain a promotion. There is, however, a way for imps to win credit for the attainment of mortal souls. Perhaps because of their inherent weakness, imps are perhaps the easiest devil for a mortal spellcaster to summon fourth. When summoned in this way, imps are usually very willing to form a contract with their summoner, becoming their familiar.

As a familiar, an imp will perform all manner of tasks for the wizard or warlock that summoned them, from fetching objects to spying invisibly on their enemies to offering advice from their centuries of experience. While an imp will happily follow her mistress in her true form, hoping to spread the cause of evil by her very appearance, she can also disguise herself to pass by unnoticed in lands where such infernal affiliations are not accepted. All imps can naturally change shape to resemble various bestial familiars whom most mortals find fractionally more palatable, such as a rat, tarantula, or raven.

Despite their services, imps have their own reasons for assisting mortals. While in a mortal’s employ, an imp attempts to encourage their mistress to take actions that are tyrannical and cruel, normally by framing them as expedient and efficient. In this way, an imp hopes to become responsible for damning her mistress’s mortal soul to the Nine Hells. If her mistress is already so damned, the imp helps her spread the cause of evil, hoping to gain some responsibility for the knock-on effect of other mortals falling to evil. Being immortal, an imp is patient enough to wait a lifetime for her goals to be completed, but if an imp’s mistress seems immune to temptation, there is normally a well-hidden clause in her contract that lets her leave her mistress’ service, normally at a time the imp considers most injurious to them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Imps

As the weakest devil, many other devils find entertainment in raping imps in their scant leisure moments. While permitted to do so, it is rarely greater devils that fuck imps, for it is considered almost as desperate as fucking a lemure. Instead, imps are usually raped by fellow lesser devils, particularly braided, spined, and barbed devils. While these lesser devils are not able to command an imp to fuck them, they receive no punishment for easily overpowering and forcing themselves on her, unless she is clearly on business for a shared superior.

Thanks to this rare protection, many imps seek to become the personal attendants of a greater devil. In this way, an imp can claim to constantly be performing work for a superior. This comes at a cost, however; not only does such an owned imp gain much more responsibility and scrutiny from above, but a so-inclined mistress may use them as a sexual toy. Still, imps usually find occasional rape by one or two greater devils to be preferable to the constant sexual abuse they must hide from as an unclaimed object of free use.

Endlessly frustrated by their position, imps sometimes band together to release their frustration. Swarms of imps will flit about, using their greater agility and wit to torment helpless lemures with their stingers, or else overpower and gang-rape them. Sometimes, a band of imps gathers in an alliance large enough to rape spined or even braided devils. While these imps may enjoy a period of ascendance, they are eventually considered enough of a disruption that formal action is taken to break them up, often with mass rape in revenge to restore the status quo.

Most imps see a stint on the Material Plane, serving as a familiar, as not only a path to advancement but also a respite from the constant threat of rape. Imps know that most mortal women consider themselves above fucking their familiars and will double down on this by making themselves subtly less attractive in their behaviour. Still, on the rare occasion that a mortal mistress does order them to fuck, the imp complies. Not only are mortals, even evil ones, usually more pleasant to their lovers than fiends, but if an imp can impregnate her mistress with tieflings, all the more credit on her return home. Imps can, of course, be impregnated by their mistress instead, but since this involves carrying and birthing a baby larger than she is, most imps try to keep this fact obscured.

Men to Imps

For an imp, getting fucked by a man not only means humiliation but also the distinct likelihood of becoming pregnant with a full-sized, tiefling baby, offspring larger than she is, an experience that is apparently deeply unpleasant. As such, imps do their best to stay unnoticed by mortal men.

Female imps also avoid pretty much all male devils, for male devils are even more prone to using imps sexually than other female devils. While getting fucked by a male devil doesn’t carry the same risk of pregnancy as a mortal, once a male devil gets his hands on an imp, he is much less likely to let her go. Some male devils even gain the right to requisition an imp's permanent sexual services to keep his libido under control. While an imp so bound may be able to ride the coattails of a particularly ambitious male devil, getting promoted along with him to remain an appropriate sexual partner, such an imp is far more likely to remain the living sperm receptacle for some barely higher-ranked devil for centuries to come.

Perhaps the worst of both worlds comes for an imp on the rare occasion she is summoned by a male mortal spellcaster. Not only may the man try to bind her in a lifelong sexual bond but, as a mortal, the man has the power to impregnate her with as many tieflings as they wish. Still, a male mortal is as much a potential target for corruption as any other mortal, often with power and influence over mortal women. As such, most imps thus summoned swallow their pride, accept the inevitable, and attempts to sway their new master with feigned sexual adoration between shifts to their moral stance.

When an imp himself is male, the hordes of female devils looking to fuck him become even more intense. Many male imps that are claimed are promoted to a larger form, such as a bearded devil, so as to be a more effective sexual partner. When an imp isn’t promoted, it can be for a few reasons. Sometimes, a male imp is claimed only unofficially by a fellow lesser devil without the power to promote him, who keeps him in line with her greater strength. Greater devils, too, may choose to keep a male imp as an imp. This is usually because imps are far easier to hide from their superiors, and thus the man is unlikely to be requisitioned away.

Like any imp, male imps can be summoned by mortals. Unless a specific imp is known to a mortal by name, imp summoning conjures forth an imp at random. As such, most male imps are brought forth unexpectedly. If a male imp is not immediately banished or killed by his summoner, he normally takes this as a sign that the mortal woman can likely be swayed towards evil by her lust for cock, or at least be impregnated with a horde of tieflings.

Chapter 64: Lemure

On the death of a mortal damned either by an infernal pact or their own wicked nature, their soul is cast down into the Nine Hells. Flushed down the river Styx, bereft of all mortal memories, the soul washes up in Avernus, the first layer of the Nine Hells, a mass of molten flesh exposed to its first dreadful day as a lemure.

Soul Currency

In order for the cogs of the Nine Hells’ bureaucracy to turn, for the infernal armies to be reinforced, and for the mountains of labour to be completed, the Nine Hells must have a constant influx of souls. It is for this reason that devils are so eager to deal with mortals, to fulfil the quotas of new souls Asmodeus herself demands of each of her archduchesses. In most cases, the number of souls the Nine Hells attain can be measured by the quantity of lemures that wash up on the banks of the Styx every single day.

Found clinging to the rocks and hiding in sulphurous crevices, newly arrived lemures are found by teams of specially tasked devils, corralled like cattle, and are prepared for shipping and registration. Every lemure, has within it a unique brand, obvious to the eye of any devil, that identifies which devil is responsible for its damnation and which layer of the Nine Hells it belongs to. The responsible devil is therefore given credit to go towards their promotion, while the lemure is tallied towards their archduchess’ quota and then sent off to that archduchess’ infernal layer. When a lemure owes its horrendous state to no devil, having been a mortal aligned to the Nine Hells’ morality by their own influences, the unclaimed lemure is usually sold off to the highest bidder.

The lowest rung of the infernal hierarchy, lemures are fairly useless creatures. An almost catatonically stupid mound of squishy flesh, a lemure cannot even speak beyond its incomprehensible babbling of misery. Still, a devil by technicality, a lemure can be promoted by any devil of a greater rank or above. Some incredibly rare and fortunate lemures are promoted almost as soon as they arrive, being the souls of notably powerful mortals who get to skip the worst phases of infernal life thanks to an archdevil’s favour. Others may be promoted to fill in gaps among the lesser devils left by promotion or, more often, death. Most lemures, however, must wait, living a life of pain and misery until such a time as a gap in need of filling appears.

Unfathomable Suffering

Being naturally evil and sadistic creatures, devils spend a great deal of time inflicting pain and misery on anyone they can get away with hurting. However, in the name of efficiency, devils are usually not allowed to harm each other without some pretence. A failing can be punished, no matter how unavoidable it was; a slight can be avenged, no matter how long the feud has lasted; and a necessary task, no matter how painful it is or how doubtful the necessity, can always have an inferior forced to perform it. For the harm of a lower-ranking devil, the reason doesn’t have to be strong; it only has to exist. Lemures are the exception to this rule.

Any devil can, without provocation or need, harm a lemure in any way they desire. Thanks to this, devils of all ranks, from the lowliest imps to the greatest archdevils, find an endless outlet for their sadistic desires by attacking, torturing, and otherwise causing endless agony to the hordes of lemures.

Lemures, of course, dread their mistreatment and try to escape it as best they can. Unfortunately for them, lemures are slow, stupid, and vulnerable. Even if a lemure does escape and find somewhere to hide, no refuge in the Nine Hells is safe for long.

Lemures cannot even find relief in death. When killed, even while still within the Nine Hells, a lemure’s fleshy body will regenerate, returning her to life in a matter of days. Only exposure to the divine power of good can put a lemure down permanently, a mercy few are likely to receive. The Nine Hells have noticed this invulnerability and, predictably, use it to their advantage. When under attack, devils drive hordes of lemures to the front line. While nobody expects them to overcome their foes, the flailing of the lemures’ desperate attempts to hold off yet another agonising death may soften up the foe and give time for a real counterattack to be prepared, all without any lasting loss to the forces of the Nine Hells.

Sex and Sexuality Among Lemures

As well as torture and physical violence, some devils also take the opportunity to rape lemures. It is not uncommon for swarms of imps or spined devils to swoop down and gang rape fleeing lemures, while braided and barbed devils may keep a lemure or two handy as personal sex and torture dolls.

Among greater and archdevils, even the suggestion of having sex with a lemure signals desperation and a lack of self-control, unbecoming of their standing. As such, most devils of such a rank refrain from sexual activity, keeping lemures only for torture and menial labour. However, some powerful devils have a shameful attraction to lemures, considered in a way much like mortals see their own taboo fetishes. While it isn’t a crime, such devils endeavour to keep their sexual use of lemures a secret and will go to great lengths to hide the truth.

Though one may think rape is preferable to all the other uses lemures are put to, this is unfortunately not the case. Lemures do not feel pleasure from being sexually violated; they are physically incapable of enjoying it. Instead, they only feel discomfort and fear, often combined with pain, as their rapists take the time to inflict more traditional tortures on them at the same time.

Men to Lemures

On the whole, lemures are probably too simple-minded and self-centred to understand men as a concept. Instinctively hostile to non-devils, lemures respond to mortal men the same way they do to any other mortal, with pathetic, uncoordinated attempts at violence. While a man will likely have no trouble overcoming and raping a single lemure, potentially impregnating it with a tiefling if he is so inclined, they become increasingly troublesome as they gather in swarms.

While hostile towards mortal men, a lemure knows by instinct that more powerful devils are to be fled from or obeyed lest worse torments befall them. This also applies to male devils. Especially among the lesser-ranking, male devils often voraciously rape scores of lemures, sometimes even performing their duties with a writhing lemure strapped to their cock so their lust won't distract them. Greater male devils are often shocked and appalled that they are suddenly considered too great to be seen fucking their easiest toys, consoled only slightly by the fact that all the lesser devils that serve under them are suddenly obligated to fuck at their command.

All male devils, no matter how powerful, were at some point a male lemure. For their rarity, male lemures are prized as unique resources by other devils, making devils especially driven to make infernal pacts with men or drive them to evil. When a male lemure is unclaimed, bidding wars and espionage to claim it can go to shocking extremes.

For many devils, hatred and jealousy of men drive them to own a male lemure for the express purpose of denying him sex and having a male on hand to torture. On the other hand, other devils may keep him around to fuck him, sating their lust for cock upon him. If a devil is above the rank of lesser, a probable event since most lesser devils have their males requisitioned away on discovery, the lemure will likely enjoy rapid promotion to a state where it is socially acceptable for her mistress to fuck him.

Chapter 65: Pit Fiend

Scaled hide that deflects the tides of chaos, broad wings that blot out the light of hope, hellfire licking from her claws, and eyes that brim with infernal malice—a pit fiend is the despotic, unyielding weight of the Nine Hells’ evil made manifest. Whether it be on the field of battle, serving the archdevil’s needs, or ruling over the devils bellow her as a tyrant, a pit fiend flinches from nothing, no matter how despicable, pushing on the advance of the rule of law with cruel certainty born of countless hard lessons forged in the fires of the Hells.

Hells’ Generals

The most powerful of the greater devils and highest in the infernal hierarchy before the unique archdevils, pit fiends are given the responsibility and the rulership of the vast armies of the Nine Hells. In this position, pit fiends excel. With millennia of experience cultivating an intellect that few mortals could hope to match, pit fiends are masterful tacticians who can appear almost precognisant of their enemies’ plans, thus being ready to snatch victory from almost any battle at any cost. Almost no enemy action is truly unexpected to a pit fiend, and she will have contingency plans for virtually anything her enemies throw her way.

Like a mortal general, a pit fiend knows that even the best laid plans can be ruined by miscommunication and dissention in the ranks. To avoid such embarrassments, pit fiends are preternatural orators. Wielded as a deadly weapon, a pit fiend uses her force of personality to crush any sense of individuality in her troops, turning them into obedient pawns in the game of war. On the battlefield, a pit fiend’s charisma means that her very presence can send even demons cowering in fear.

Of course, most battles in the Lower Planes are not won through intimidation alone. Befitting her status, a pit fiend’s body is a weapon in and of itself, from her venom-drenched teeth all the way down to her crushing tail, all wrapped in a hide that rivals steel in durability. On top of this, a pit fiend is almost always equipped with a wide variety of equipment and relics, the most exceptional items the arcane and productive power of the Nine Hells can produce. Among this equipment, most pit fiends wield a mace as their badge of office, imbued with the most unholy of magic and alight with hellfire.

As well as accepting arcane artifacts, pit fiends also wield magic of all kinds. As second nature, pit fiends can summon forth hellfire; this is not an unusual ability for devils, but pit fiends are the undisputed masters of the art. With the merest flick of the wrist, a pit fiend can engulf whole enemy forces in burning conflagrations or else pen them in to slowly burn them alive within fiery walls. Many pit fiends go further, studying wizardry and the like to gain access to a wider array of magic, giving a pit fiend countless angles of attack.

Infernal Courtiers

The pit fiend is the highest rank of the greater devils, the highest a devil can get in the infernal hierarchy without the intercedence of Asmodeus herself. As such, pit fiends are considered by most to be finally free of the yoke that comes with the common devil hierarchy. A pit fiend not only leads the devils under her into battle but also rules over them, setting the dictates by which thousands will live, die, and suffer. A pit fiend is often gifted nearly any luxury she could desire: servants, horned devil bodyguards—among her lessers, a pit fiend’s darkest wish is their command.

At the same time, however, pit fiends are also the lowest rung of the infernal nobility. Thanks to their position as promoters of the greater devils, every pit fiend owes their high ranking and thus their loyalty to at least one archdevil. In return for this great debt, pit fiends are expected to be at their archdevil’s beck and call. At any moment, a pit fiend must be ready to drop everything and fly to their mistress’ side.

Their wings folded to resemble a cloak, a pit fiend charms, deceives, and swaggers through the noble functions of the archdevils with the same ease they may rip out a demon’s still-beating heart. Despite this, they are still only attendants to the true nobility. A pit fiend may act as their archdevil’s adviser, bodyguard, escort, or so much more. When an archdevil has designs on a certain goal, it is normally to their pit fiend that the hard work is delegated.

To advance among the nobility, it is not enough to simply impress their archdevil; a pit fiend must perform feats great and terrible enough to catch the interest of Asmodeus, ruler of the Nine Hells. In an effort to achieve this, a pit fiend constantly hatches its own plans to acquire power and renown. Using the formidable array of devils and mortal cults left to her disposal, a pit fiend can shake the foundations of entire realms in her plotting.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pit Fiends

Though ruthless and efficient, pit fiends are far from devoid of temptations such as lust. Instead of being a weakness, pit fiends use their wicked desires to push themselves further, elegantly combining a solution to their lust with practical methods to advance their plans.

When a devil fails her, a pit fiend may include a period of brutal rape by her hand in their punishment. Even more than when ordinarily fucked, an angry pit fiend violates not only her victim’s body, likely to break bones and cause internal bleeding, but also their mind, filling even the hardiest warriors with terror that can approach madness.

Even on the rare occasion when a pit fiend has nobody in need of punishment on hand, she is seldom without sexual partners. Most pit fiends have a vast harem at their disposal, not only to satisfy their desires but also to show off the power at her disposal and draw attention. In this endeavour, pit fiends fill their harems not only with legions of pleasure devils and desperate lesser devils but also with more exotic lovers like succubae, dragons, dark fey, genies, and notable mortals, bending the rules that devils beneath her are held to.

Despite her own sexual mastery, pit fiends often sexually serve their archdevil in turn. Being the archdevil’s closest confidant, her standing dependant on theirs, pit fiends are exposed to their archdevil’s every sexual fascination, even those considered shameful in the Nine Hells.

Men to Pit Fiends

In their own estimation, a pit fiend considers herself a vital linchpin in the grand cosmic order, an integral bulwark standing against the ever-growing corruption of chaos. To be looked upon by a man as nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure and perhaps cambion breeding fills a pit fiend with rage. Still, pit fiends do not sacrifice their advantages in the name of blind anger. Lust may coerce a man onto the path of darkness or simply lead him to his demise. In any case, a pit fiend files away her resentment in her vast memory, ready to take revenge at her leisure should the opportunity arise.

While similarly displeased by the lust of their superiors, a pit fiend who serves a male archdevil is compelled to grit her teeth and bare it, serving as his cocksleave among her myriad other duties. Often, such a pit fiend spends a lot of her time finding unique and interesting lovers for her master, so he may leave her alone for a while, letting her deal with her own affairs.

Pit fiends can also be male. Generally, male pit fiends are considered to be the pleasure slaves of archdevils that got completely out of control, escaping the trap of lust she built around them to rise in the ranks. While still under their archdevil’s command, a male pit fiend knows that with only a nod from Asmodeus, he may rise to a position to be his mistress’ equal or even superior with some clever political manoeuvring, turning the tables on sexual dominance. Their archdevil knows this too, of course, so there starts a hidden competition between the two, with the pit fiend trying to get Asmodeus’ favour before his mistress can find cause to demote him back into line.

Asmodeus herself seems oddly fond of male pit fiends for some reason. While most devils, even the more powerful devils, would be fortunate to possess even a single male devil as a servant, Asmodeus claims eight male pit fiends as her own. Why Asmodeus has gone to such an extent is a mystery she keeps close to her chest. Some theorise that Asmodeus has a grand plan that requires multiple males to complete, possibly bringing about the ruination of all. Others, who feel safe from the mistress of the Nine Hells’ wrath, propose a simpler solution: Asmodeus is secretly a slut with a voracious appetite for pit fiend cock.

Chapter 66: Spined Devil (Art)

Known among the devils as spinagon, spined devils are promoted from lemures who show strongly self-serving yet obedient traits but lack the aggression to be a braided devil or the cunning to be an imp. In a lot of ways, the spined devil is a hybrid of the other two starting points for devils, taking choice parts of both. Spined devils are both small and winged, though not as small as an imp. Like a braided devil, spined devils have a naturally tough hide and are equipped with natural weaponry—not barbed hair tendrils, but a series of detachable spines. Though more plentiful than imps and more versatile in combat than a braided devil, it seems both ia spined devil’s espionage and combative functions are hobbled by a lack of personal creativity and a cowardly nature.

Hellish Gossips

Most places in the Nine Hells are infested with spined devils. Like pigeons in a city on the Material Plane, spined devils flock wherever they are least likely to be trodden on, on roofs, cliff faces, or in the branches of infernal plants. Spined devils covet these resting spots as well as anything shiny they find abandoned or unlooked for and will fight fiercely over the scraps, shrieking in ways that pain the ears of even other devils.

Thanks to their near omnipresence, very little happens in the Nine Hells without a spined devil witnessing it. When spined devils flock together and aren’t fighting, they trade information among themselves in a raucous chatter of gossip. Thanks to these habits, spined devils often possess a surprising depth of knowledge about their local area in the Nine Hells. Though a spined devil’s superior can pull rank to have her report what she knows, a spined devil usually prefers to hold her knowledge at ransom, offering it in exchange for treasure or prestige that can be put towards a promotion. Equally, however, spined devils are easily cowed by intimidation and may spill their secrets to nearly anyone, devil or mortal, under sufficient duress.

While a spined devil has a brilliant memory and can thus provide lots of information, she lacks the personal motivation to note her knowledge’s value. As such, much of the information a spined devil shares will likely be useless drivel. This lack of detail orientation is also why devils who are specifically in need of a spy tend to turn to the weaker but more competent imps. Spined devils also lack the subtlety of an imp, being unable to turn invisible and flapping around with a bevvy of squawks and shrieks. Only a spined devil’s ubiquity hides her intents.

Spined devils are also valued as messengers. Their cautious nature and ability to vanish into a flock of their kind let them avoid most attempts to intercept them. Again, however, spined devils lack much of the ability to comprehend implications and subtlety. A spined devil follows her instructions exactly as given, meaning that any mission requiring flexibility or nuance is almost foredoomed to fail.

Spineless Artillery

Individually weak in terms of devils, spined devils are nonetheless integral to the battle plans of most infernal armies. Gathered together in great flocks, spined devils are cast onto the battlefield to rain death from above. Though spines cover much of a spined devil’s body, the spines on her tail are special. Detachable and able to be flung quite a distance, the spined devil tail spines are filled with a highly reactive compound, one that explodes in a burst of flame on piercing a foe. Together, a flock of spined devils creates a hail of these burning spines, obliterating land-bound enemies below.

Though highly effective, a spined devil only has a limited number of spines that she can shed. Though they can regrow in only a day or so, a spined devil who is out of detachable spines is expected to continue fighting. Most spined devils who are pressed into war find or are given small battle forks or similar light weaponry. Even without this armament, a spined devil has a mouth of serrated teeth that can do significant damage. Though equipped with leathery skin, spined devils are fairly fragile and can be brought down with only a few good hits. Spined devils thus rely on their arial agility to avoid harm, diving in to strike before nimbly flying back out of their foes' reach.

Despite these combative capabilities, spined devils are craven creatures who desperately seek to avoid anything even remotely dangerous. As such, spined devils spend a lot of time trying to weasel out of or straight up hide from mandatory military service. Once on the battlefield, it doesn’t take all that much going wrong to convince spined devils to flee, especially on their native plane, where death is permanent. As such, most spined devil battalions are led and attended by a handful of stronger devils, typically bone or horned devils, who, as well as giving orders, are responsible for keeping their cowardly underlings too terrified of reprimand to flee.

Sex and Sexuality Among Spined Devils

Among the weakest of the lesser devils, spined devils feel a lot of anger towards their pathetic station. With little other outlet, swarms of spined devils often seek out lemures to torment and rape. Though not the most creative of torturers, a spined devil’s small size and near omnipresence make getting raped by a spined devil, or more likely, several spined devils at once as they argue over her, an inevitability for most lemures.

On the other hand, there are also multitudes of devils who, by superior strength or simply by pulling rank, can rape a spined devil in turn. While, like all devils, spined devils hate to be sexually dominated, they are also often too fearful to physically resist another devil’s rapacious intents once fleeing or flying out of reach ceases to be an option.

Spined devils seek to avoid being chosen as sex slaves by projecting an aura of unpleasantness, showing off their prickly hide and a similarly prickly personality. At the same time, however, spined devils also try to talk up their fellows as sexual partners, decreasing their own likelihood of rape by increasing another’s.

 Men to Spined Devils

Hating and fearing the idea of getting raped, spined devils are almost unilaterally terrified of men, regardless of what kind of man they are. As they do for other devils looking for a victim to fuck, spined devils do their utmost to avoid the notice or interest of male devils, flying away on their approach and trying to make themselves seem less desirable than other potential fuck toys.

Spined devils are, however, most terrified of mortal men. When a mortal man is around, spined devils try their absolute hardest to go beneath notice, aiming to achieve their orders with as little male interaction as physically possible. Even outside the Nine Hells, where they usually lose much of their fear thanks to the lack of permanent death, mortal men still horrify most spined devils.

The reason for this additional fear boils down to pregnancy. Death outside the Nine Hells is little more than a brief setback for a spined devil, preferable to the reprimand they will receive for not giving their all to their duties. Pregnancy, on the other hand, entails five months of growing increasingly inefficient as a baby tiefling develops inside of her, as well as a permanent mark against whatever modicum of respect she has spent centuries scrounging.

Male spined devils are not all that prevalent. Most males are independent or aggressive enough that their soul will be promoted to an imp or bearded devil in the Nine Hells. Thanks to this, there are few records on how male spined devils behave, but it can be assumed they are at least as frustrated with their position as their female counterparts and will thus rape anything weaker than them.

Notes:

Big thanks to Draw&Nap for the art in this chapter. Check them out on Twitter/X https://twitter.com/draw_nap

Also, we're finally done with fiends for a while! Finally get to some creatures that have sex consensually sometimes.

Chapter 67: Dinosaurs

Known by a variety of names in different cultures, including behemoths, titans, and thunderbeasts, to name a few, dinosaurs are a group of incredibly ancient reptilian (and sometimes partially avian) creatures. In times long before the reckoning of any living humanoid, dinosaurs ruled the Material Plane, their great size and fearsome power giving them little else to fear save each other. From the fossil bones people find, it seems that the dominance of the dinosaurs was near total until one cataclysmic event millennia ago brought their dynasty to an end.

This calamity, however, did not spell the total doom of the dinosaurs. Scattered across the world, on distant islands, within hidden valleys, and deep in tropical jungles, small pockets of dinosaurs found refuge from extinction, living there to this day. The following chapters will cover a few notable kinds of dinosaurs in detail, but this chapter is a discussion of this family of elusive creatures as a whole.

Titanic Lifeforms

Though dinosaurs can come in all shapes and sizes, with some being as small as turkeys, most dinosaurs owe their success to their huge size. Where a dinosaur walks, the earth shakes, trees are toppled by the barest modicum of effort, and a dinosaur’s roar can carry for miles. Common predators like wolves and bears seldom find a place among the top carnivorous dinosaurs have to offer, and common herbivores like deer and rabbits must skitter between the feet of epically powerful browsers.

Despite lacking supernatural capabilities of their own, the sheer power of most dinosaurs lets them compete directly with monsters and extraplanar beings alike. Many places where dinosaurs roam have a notable lack of unnatural creatures, thanks to the dinosaurs’ ferocity. In other places, creatures like dragons and giants find a place in the ecosystem to fit into, sometimes keeping dinosaurs as pets or livestock or hunting them for their meat and scaled hide.

Humanoids can also sometimes be found in the territory of dinosaurs. With the looming threat of great numbers or industry drawing the dinosaurs' attention, most people who live alongside them tend to live in small numbers and lead fairly primitive lives. Though living alongside dinosaurs requires a certain hardiness, and tribes will sometimes hunt or even tame a few dinosaurs from time to time, most are forced to admit that the lands in which they live belong to the dinosaurs; they are only residents in their shadows.

Nature Primaeval

Despite their great size and power, dinosaurs are, in fact, completely natural beasts. While most naturally occurring animals must work around monsters, aiming to escape or stay out of their way, dinosaurs face supernatural creatures directly and often come out on top. As such, many individuals who feel a strong connection to the wild, such as druids, rangers, and worshipers of nature deities, consider dinosaurs to be a symbol of nature’s victory over industry and the aberrant arcane.

As a result, many such naturalists seek out the hidden locales where dinosaurs still live. If they are successful in their search, they will find a land fraught with peril but also filled with untouched nature. Even the most destructive activities of dinosaurs enrich their environment: fallen trees allow light to the forest floor, and furrows in the ground shape water courses. As much as the dinosaurs need their home, their home also needs them.

Many druids and rangers who learn of this delicate balance become compelled to protect it from anything that might try to invade. Helpfully, living alongside dinosaurs tends to encourage the sort of power that such an endeavour requires. Druids who learn from the dinosaurs and their power often gain the ability to transform themselves into the fiercest dinosaurs they know, or else summon said dinosaurs out of the ether. Rangers, on the other hand, often learn to tame and communicate with dinosaurs, riding forth on powerful steeds with deadly companions in tow.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dinosaurs

As with all animals, the complexities of how dinosaurs find mates and reproduce are an intricate array that varies from species to species. Still, there are some commonalities that most dinosaurs share. Being large, bestial, and primitive, dinosaurs have little comprehension of romance, lust, or long-term bonds. Instead, dinosaurs favour mates who display power or fertility, usually through combat and display. Once mating is complete, both dinosaurs tend to go their separate ways.

Most dinosaurs lay eggs. Being flightless and too large to burrow or climb, dinosaurs tend to have little option but to build their nests on the ground. Like an enlarged bird or lizard egg, a dinosaur egg is a great potential food source for anyone who can get their hands on it, be they small mammals or daring humanoids. As such, most dinosaurs stand guard over their eggs in the most vulnerable parts of their lives.

When a dinosaur egg hatches, the young are often well-developed but small. Since dinosaurs rely on their size for safety, many young dinosaurs are given a degree of parental care as well. Many dinosaurs get especially aggressive when they have a baby to look after, making them all the more dangerous.

Like most beasts, female dinosaurs are incapable of reproducing outside of their kind in most cases and thus do not pursue sexual relations with females of other species. There are, however, some creatures who see the value in mating with a dinosaur, particularly those that have the natural capability to crossbreed, such as dragons. Some dragons recognise the benefit of having a half-dragon pet dinosaur, with all the dinosaur’s strength and lack of intelligence, a natural aptitude for obedience to her supernatural parent, and a breath weapon.

Men to Dinosaurs

Like most beasts, dinosaurs seem to instinctively comprehend the fact that males of all kinds can impregnate them. How interested a dinosaur is in the prospect of being bred by a male largely seems dependant on what sort of creature he is. With males of her own kind, a female dinosaur is often near desperate to mate with him, sometimes even showing aggression to other female creatures that she feels may draw the males attention away from her. A dinosaur can feel similarly excited to fuck if the male is of a similarly large and powerful breed, such as a giant, dragon, or different kind of dinosaur, so long as she doesn’t feel threatened by predation.

When faced with a smaller man, however, such as a humanoid, most dinosaurs seem to be disappointed and disinterested in mating with them. Instinctually drawn to strength, most dinosaurs expect humanoids to be weaker than them and protect themselves from having a weak potential mate with aggression. However, if a man meets a dinosaur’s aggression and is somehow strong enough to hold his own against her, she may be convinced that he is a powerful and worthy mate.

Dinosaurs can also occasionally be male too. Thanks to the rarity of dinosaurs as a whole, male dinosaurs are particularly uncommon. Like many male animals, male dinosaurs are typically strong and dominant enough to sexually dominate any female of their kind and spend moments not dedicated to survival breeding anything they can overpower.

When a male dinosaur does arise, its influence normally bends the ecosystem around it. Women of primitive tribes often see male dinosaurs in their area as divine beings and offer them worship, often including regular breeding. Being a natural beast, male dinosaurs impregnate the females they fuck with dinosaurs of his kind. This means that a woman impregnated by a dinosaur will end up laying dinosaur eggs. Depending on the species, this can generate whole tribes of humanoids who keep tame dinosaurs of their male deity’s breed.

Chapter 68: Allosaurus

Bipedal and somewhat avian in their feet and stance, allosauruses are somewhat small for terrestrial dinosaurs, weighing in at only a ton and a half on average. Despite this, allosauruses are formidable predators for creatures great and small thanks to their serrated teeth, dexterous claws, and sharp senses.

Time Tested Hunters

Though a carnivorous dinosaur, a lone allosaurus stands little chance in a fight against many of the herbivorous dinosaurs she would prey upon in open conflict. Relatively small and fragile, an allosaurus would swiftly die of starvation or retaliatory injury if she did not pick her battles with care. To survive, allosauruses have an array of simple yet effective tactics to gain an advantage over their prey.

The simplest tactic many allosauruses go for is to target smaller prey. Being a dinosaur, allosaurs have a wide variety of creatures that they can consider “small prey," mostly consisting of animals such as boars, deer, giant lizards, and juvenile dinosaurs. Unfortunately, most allosauruses also see humanoids as an easy meal, so long as they are in a small enough group. Like many beasts, fire may scare an allosaurus away, but if she is hungry enough, she will return.

As well as simply small prey, allosauruses also seek out prey that is vulnerable—the old, the sick, the young, and the injured. The scent of freshly spilled blood may draw an allosaurus from miles away. When prey is spotted, allosauruses hunt by first sneaking as close as they can. Being capable of great acceleration, an allosaurus who manages to close the distance will almost certainly be able to spring on her prey before they get a chance to react. Once within range, anywhere from twenty to fifty feet away, the allosaurus sprints at the target before pouncing and hooking on with her sharp claws. Aiming to wrestle her prey to the ground, the allosaurus attempts to finish it off with a series of bites with her deadly, saw-like teeth.

When an allosaurus wants to hunt larger prey, she may unify with others of her kind, hunting in a pack as wolves and lions do elsewhere. The associations between allosauruses are not all that long-lasting, however. When the hunt is over, squabbles quickly crop up between the hunters. When the meat is gone, the predators go their separate ways.

Racing Reptiles

For the most part, people who live alongside allosauruses must learn to fear them or else fall prey to them. Tribes tend to build high walls around their encampments to keep roving allosaurs out or else settle in places inaccessible to the dinosaurs thanks to their size, typically up trees or in narrow caves. Sometimes, however, ingenious or powerful individuals may turn the tables and strike up an alliance with their would-be predators.

Food-motivated and naturally used to forming pack bonds, an allosaurus may be tamed by a humanoid with the courage to stand against it, the dominance to dissuade it from attack, and the large quantities of meat required to keep it fed and satisfied. Though not quite as much as one would expect from a carnivore of its size and activity, the amount of flesh that it takes to feed even a single allosaurus can be prohibitive for many, especially if they are of a primitive tribe. As such, tame allosauruses are often the sole property of the powerful and widely respected chieftains and their mightiest warriors. The return on such a costly companion is, however, great.

Among the swiftest of dinosaurs, an allosaurus is a trusty steed that can carry its rider across the land in record time. At the same time, a warrior astride an allosaurus can rightfully strike terror into their enemies’ hearts, running them down with tooth, claw, and spear tip as they flee. When not at war, allosaur riders show off their steed’s speed and power in a great many ways. Races are common, with two or more riders driving their allosauruses around a track or down a trail in the hopes of receiving praise and glory should they win. When two great warriors find themselves at odds, they may ride their allosauruses in a joust, attempting to strike their rival down from a mighty dinosaur’s back.

Sex and Sexuality Among Allosauruses

Allosauruses mate around once every couple of years, in the dry season. As with most dinosaurs, size is what makes an allosaurus attractive, as are her formidable jaws, which are highlighted by bright coloration around her face. At the end of a successful pack hunt in the mating season, larger allosauruses can be expected to get propositioned by smaller ones, who make their intentions clear by flashing their bright markings. Those allosauruses that showed themselves to be skilled at hunting and laying claim to their own share of the food are most likely to get a larger allosaurus to mate and allow them to impregnate her; otherwise, she will repel them with brutal aggression.

Once pregnant, an allosaurus chases off her mate and seeks out a sheltered spot to build a nest. Allosauruses prefer hidden areas like dense forests and jungles. In these places, an allosaurus makes a heap of mud and rotting leaves in which to lay up to eleven eggs. Once the eggs are laid, the allosaurus stays by them for months, eating nothing but whatever creatures dare come too close.

On hatching, allosauruses are barely the size of domestic chickens. As such, the hatchlings stay near their mother, who protects them as they learn to hunt insects, rodents, and lizards. Allosauruses grow quickly, switching to larger and larger prey, but an allosaurus’ mother tires of them long before adulthood. Growing more aggressive with her young with each passing day, an allosaurus’ subadult offspring must eventually flee or be consumed by their mother. Young allosauruses sometimes stay together, forming packs with their siblings, but most will eventually strike out on their own come adulthood.

Despite their readiness to mate in the wild, allosauruses are notoriously difficult to breed in captivity. When a bold enough tribe wants a new allosaurus under their command, they must either capture an adult alive and try to tame it or steal an egg from under a mother allosaurus’ nose. Both options are incredibly dangerous, so only the most daring and well-equipped try either.

Men to Allosauruses

Though able to distinguish men from women through sight and smell, a female Allosaurus rarely sees a man as anything more than prey. While she recognises his potential to impregnate her if allowed to fuck, the smaller size of a humanoid makes the dinosaur assume that any offspring he sires will be weak and inferior, though there is no evidence that this is the case. As such, in the allosaurus’ mind at least, it is better to ignore a man’s reproductive potential and treat him like any other member of his kind, unless he happens to be a creature of sufficient size and strength.

An allosaurus’ instincts aren’t set in stone, however. An allosaurus who witnesses a man’s strength, either firsthand or by seeing him in combat, may evaluate his potential as a father to her eggs. Shows of strength, however, normally involve aggression, so an allosaurus might reasonably fear approaching a man in case he attacks her. It is thus important for a man to communicate purely nonviolent intentions to an allosaurus, normally through tone and stance, though spells that allow communication with beasts can be very helpful.

Once strength and peaceful intentions have been established, a female allosaur can be incredibly eager to fuck a man, actively presenting and possibly even trying to cut off his retreat until he breeds her. If she is part of a pack, her pack will organise themselves from strongest to weakest through chaotic squabbling, each one wanting to be impregnated in turn. Once pregnant, however, an allosaurus will lose her tolerance for the man, wanting him gone so she can lay in peace.

As with all beasts, male allosaurus can be born. Once they reach adulthood, they tend to dominate their environment. Female allosaurus, of course, are always eager to breed with their male counterpart. For less willing partners, an allosaurus’ dexterous claws and ambush instincts let him wrestle them into a position where he can pull them onto his cock.

Chapter 69: Ankylosaurus

Though a generalist herbivore, ankylosauruses are far from peaceful creatures. Snapped tree trunks, unearthed shrubs, and even shattered stones litter an ankylosaurus’ trail. Heavily armed and armoured, ankylosauruses plod across the open plains with the confidence of a dinosaur nearly invulnerable to harm.

Heavy-Set Herbivores

A dinosaur of enormous proportions, almost thirty-five feet from nose to tail and weighing several tons, ankylosauruses spend many hours of their day in constant search for food. Though vegetarians, ankylosaurus are not fussy eaters, dining on a wide variety of plant matter. Though ferns and berried roots are staples of an ankylosaurus’ diet, she will also chew up fungi and seed pods when they are found and will carelessly knock down massive trees to chew on their high branches. Thorns, shells, and even mild toxins do little to dissuade an ankylosaur from its meal with a gut large enough to handle almost anything given time.

With such a great need for food, ankylosauruses seldom appreciate companionship. Though they may linger at the edges of other dinosaur herds, most amble along in a slow, solitary lifestyle. In any case, ankylosauruses have no need for speed or defenders, even against the most titanic predatory dinosaurs.

As well as the protection of her sheer bulk, an ankylosaurus is defended by rows of dense, bony plates, densest on her back, neck, and skull. Though heavy, this plate armour offers some of the most comprehensive protection nature affords to any beast, able to deflect the fangs of virtually any predator, as well as any humanoid's arrows, steel weaponry, and even destructive spells. As a result of ankylosaurus’ unprecedented durability, most creatures and even most people consider an assault upon her to be more energy than it is worth, leaving the brute to live with a completely fearless countenance.

Dim and Cantankerous

Despite her great size, the brain of an adult ankylosaurus can be barely any bigger than an apple. Predictably, this relatively tiny brain makes ankylosauruses far from the most stunningly intelligent of the dinosaurs, and they are easily misled or confused. On the other hand, however, an ankylosaurus doesn’t need to be all that intelligent; plants don’t require particularly brilliant tactics to browse upon, and she does not need to maintain or rely on any social bonds to protect herself from predators, only her armour and her aggression.

At the end of a long, heavily muscled tail, an ankylosaurus bears a thickly set nodule of bone, which she wields like an enormous mace. With a single swing, an ankylosaur can snap tree trunks and pulverise rock. Naturally belligerent, an ankylosaurus will not hesitate to swing her tail club at anything that gets too close.

Perhaps thanks to her deficient brain power, ankylosauruses have poor senses. With indistinct vision, an ankylosaurus identifies her surroundings by movement and by scent. When these senses pick up something unfamiliar, she rarely waits to consider her options and immediately swings. Able to send an attacker to the ground with broken bones or kill smaller assailants outright in a single hit, an ankylosaurus’ blind aggression causes most predators to think better of attacking her.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ankylosauruses

Most of the time, ankylosauruses are aggressively solitary, treating others of their kind with threatening bellows, often devolving into smacking seven bells out of each other with their tails. Thanks to their armour, these conflicts rarely cause anything worse than short-term disorientation and bruising.

On occasion, however, ankylosauruses must come together in order to mate. Ankylosauruses become interested in mating somewhat infrequently, with no real pattern in terms of the time of year. In most cases, an amorous encounter between ankylosauruses starts in about the same way a territorial dispute begins. While threatening and beating each other with their tails, an ankylosaurus looking for offspring will let out specific calls to signal her true intent, but only once she is satisfied with her opponent’s strength and mettle. Usually, these calls result in a truce in order for the pair to fuck, after which the pair will either continue their battle or go their separate ways.

The preferred nesting site of an ankylosaurus is a simple scrape in the ground in a sheltered area, typically a patch of forest or a valley small enough to limit the advantage of superior numbers. Laying up to twenty eggs, an ankylosaurus stands guard over her nest for the months it takes them to hatch. Newly hatched ankylosauruses are small and not nearly as well armoured as adults, so it pays for them to stick close to their mother. When danger threatens, young ankylosauruses scramble under their mother, staying where her tail can strike their foes until they are old enough to live their lives alone.

Men to Ankylosauruses

Surprisingly, to those who know ankylosauruses as irritable, isolationist brutes, the scent of a male causes much excitement in a female ankylosaurus. The female will likely try to follow the scent as best she can, all the while producing a mating call and sexually presenting to the open air. However, a humanoid man who thinks they have miraculously tamed the beast by his mere presence is likely to experience a painfully rude, if not lethal, awakening.

Female ankylosauruses mate with virtually any male creature that matches or exceeds their size. Thanks to the confidence they have in their armor, most will even attempt to mate with carnivorous males without fear. However, if a male is small, such as a humanoid man, the ankylosaurus will fail to recognise them as a potential mate. Most of the time, the ankylosaurus will simply ignore the man while searching around him for a larger male that simply isn’t there. If a man attempts to fuck her at this time or she figures out that the male is so much smaller than her, she may attack out of pure frustration.

Unlike with smarter dinosaurs, proving one’s strength to an ankylosaurus is not a promising proposition, even if one has the power to do it. Ankylosauruses rarely have the mental or sensory capability to observe actions that don’t involve them directly, and once attacked by a creature outside of their species, an ankylosaurus typically fights blindly until they or she are defeated. Only by restraining an ankylosaurus or making one seem far bigger than they truly are, typically with magic, can a man safely fuck her.

Equally confident in their armour, a rare male ankylosaurus uses his fearlessness to attempt to fuck anything he comes across that smells female and doesn’t immediately flee. Be it a fellow herbivore, a predator with poor judgement, or even something as small as a humanoid tribeswoman, little can dissuade a male ankylosaurus from at least trying to mount them and fill them up with his sperm.

Chapter 70: Plesiosaurus

Notes:

Author's note: I know plesiosauruses are technically not dinosaurs but Bardson doesn't.

Just as many dinosaurs still hold sway over hidden corners of the land, so too does a seagoing dynasty of dinosaurs still survive in their own aquatic holdfasts. Sometimes found off the coasts of dinosaur-dominated regions, plesiosauruses can also be found much further out to sea or in areas completely isolated from their land-living relatives.

Marine Variations

In general, plesiosaurus, or one of the myriad colloquial names used by locals, refers not to a single breed of aquatic dinosaur but to a number of breeds that share a broadly similar body plan but may vary greatly in terms of behaviour and threat.

Most plesiosauruses range from twenty to thirty feet long, with anywhere from a quarter to over half that length being made up by an elongated neck on which a relatively small head sits. The rest of a plesiosaurus’ body tends to be squat, baring four flippers in place of legs that provide both thrust and steering in the water. Being reptiles, a plesiosaurus must raise her head above the water’s surface to breathe air on occasion, but their impressive lung capacity means that they can make a single breath last upwards of an hour.

Most plesiosauruses use their agility and flexible necks to catch relatively small fish, with their needle-like teeth preventing their slippery catch from getting away. Other plesiosauruses have different diets, however. In shallows, some kinds of plesiosauruses may root through the sand and rocks at the bottom for crustaceans and molluscs. Larger species, forty or fifty feet in length, may take to deeper water on the hunt for larger prey like seals, tuna, and sharks. Though an alarming sight, most plesiosauruses have little interest in threatening people and their watercraft, with only a few of the biggest, most violent species making a habit of plucking sailors off the decks of passing ships.

Lake Monsters

On the whole, the vast majority of plesiosauruses find their homes out at sea. Still, in a few places, in sizable rivers, lakes, and flooded caverns scattered throughout the world, unique plesiosaurus populations can be found. Perhaps thanks to the reduced food availability and more confined quarters of these realms, freshwater plesiosauruses tend to be on the smaller side, with broad diets.

Though there are a few freshwater plesiosauruses who ambush shore-bound prey in a manner akin to a crocodile, most find humanoids to be too large to prey upon and prefer to stay out of sight. Thanks to this elusive nature, spotting a plesiosaurus in its natural habitat may be a miraculous stroke of luck, even if one is a resident of the area who believes they know their local lake or stretch of river like the back of their hand.

Especially in areas without terrestrial dinosaurs, where the local populous has no frame of reference for what a plesiosaurus is, glimpses of one may not be believed as lake-wondering drunks and lonely anglers come back with outrageous tales of giant water snakes and swamp beasts. As the rumours pile up, however, local towns and fishing villages may begin to fear the implacable creature of the deep, going so far as to hire adventurers to head out and slay the innocent, already rare creatures.

Sex and Sexuality Among Plesiosauruses

Like terrestrial dinosaurs, plesiosauruses tend to prefer mates of greater size and strength who are still of their particular breed. In smaller species, a potential mate’s physical size is determined mostly by swimming in parallel to give rivals time to observe each other. Bigger plesiosauruses, especially those that live in gloomier environments where their senses can’t be as easily trusted, may fight each other through a series of powerful shoves. Regardless of how it is achieved, the biggest and most powerful plesiosauruses tend to claim the right to impregnate all others of their kind in the area.

Once pregnant, a plesiosaurus faces a unique problem among dinosaurs. Requiring air to survive, reptilian eggs would not last long if laid underwater, in the environment the plesiosaurus is adapted for. Some smaller plesiosauruses solve this issue by hauling themselves out onto land and burying their eggs on beaches in a manner akin to sea turtles. Since the mothers are most vulnerable on land, these haulouts tend to happen on nights when the tide is at its highest. When the eggs hatch, their hatchlings must crawl back to the sea and grow up alone, their mothers already long gone.

Other plesiosauruses, mostly those too big to support their bodies out of water, have a more radical solution involving the fundamental change of their bodily functions so that they can give birth to live young. Normally limited to only one or two offspring at a time, live-birthing plesiosauruses often make up for this limitation by birthing their young at a much greater relative size than their egg-laying counterparts and by guarding their young until they are big enough to protect themselves.

Men to Plesiosauruses

In most kinds of plesiosaurus, people are of little interest, even if they happen to be men. While seemingly able to recognise a man by sight, most consider humanoids to be too big to be prey but too small to be worth the time to interact with as mates. A man who goes after these plesiosauruses, especially if he doesn’t have some magical aid to swimming, is likely to have them escape him by dint of their aquatic agility if he doesn’t frustrate them into turning around and biting first.

The disinterest among plesiosauruses is not unilateral, however. A few breeds, particularly smaller ones, are known to treat men with curiosity, subtly swimming up to a man’s boat to bump it or try to harmlessly pull him overboard. This horseplay seems to be the plesiosaurus’ way of testing a man’s strength and capability. A man who is able to hold on, either to his vessel or to his playful harasser, for a while may impress these little plesiosauruses enough that their actions become more and more lustful, until they are virtually pleading with a man to breed them.

Like female plesiosauruses, male plesiosauruses tend to keep their sexual exploits under the waves. Fairly simplistic in their desires, a male plesiosaurus generally fucks anything he can get to submit that is too big for him to consider prey. This list generally consists of all kinds of plesiosaurus, seals, sharks, whales, aquatic monsters, and a variety of marine peoples like sea elves and mermaids. Sentient lovers often begin to associate the raw sexual power of a male plesiosaurus with the power of a god, causing underwater sex cults to spring up where the male is cared for, finding all the food and pussy he could desire from his amphibious worshipers.

Chapter 71: Pteranodon

Notes:

Author's note: I know pteranodons are technically not dinosaurs but Bardson doesn't.

While best known for their great bipedal predators and heavy-set, lumbering herbivores, dinosaurs are an ancient lineage with offshoots perfectly adapted to a wide variety of environments and lifestyles. It is therefore little surprise that, millennia ago, before even the birds and bats most people know, one family of dinosaurs took to the skies. Surviving to this day in a myriad of forms, pteranodons rule the skies above their landbound kin, making up for their comparatively unremarkable size with near-uncontested access to an otherwise inaccessible domain.

Featherless Flyers

Scholars have long observed that many dinosaurs possess features shared with common birds, from the arrangement of their feet to their piercing raptorial eyes and even patches of simple feathers. Some sages have even postulated that birds as we know them may have arisen from some kind of small, lightweight dinosaur by a sudden mutation, be it natural or arcane.

As a fellow airborne beast, the pteranodons may at first appear to be a promising candidate for the avian ancestor. Things are, however, nowhere near as straightforward as they seem. Though sharing a few superficial features like lighter bones and (usually) possessing lightweight bills instead of cumbersome toothed jaws, the mechanisms by which birds and pteranodons fly are fundamentally different.

A bird’s wing is, in fact, rather small and stubby; its surface is extended by feathers. A pteranodon, on the other hand, is utterly featherless; its wings are made from its living hide stretched over its extended arms and fingers, in a manner vaguely similar to a bat with fewer supportive struts.

Having such well-developed forelimbs gives pteranodons greater ground mobility and an easier time taking off, thus allowing for their superior size compared to most natural birds, who are stuck launching themselves with two back legs that are, in comparison, otherwise useless for daily life. The pteranodon’s wings are not flawless, however, especially when she finds herself in combat. While a bird who suffers a disturbance in her feathers can simply preen herself to mitigate the damage, any injury to a pteranodon’s wings represents a serious wound that may leave its victim landbound until it heals, if it ever heals at all. It is for this reason that pteranodons are such cautious combatants, diving in to strike their opponent before nimbly flying away.

Airborne Derivations

When scholars of the many kinds of dinosaurs use the term pteranodon, they mean a single kind of winged dinosaur, an ill-tempered fish eater large enough to look a human woman in the eye on ground level. In common parlance, however, many people incorrectly use the term to refer to the lineage of airborne dinosaurs as a whole, a grouping that learned folks prefer to call pterosaurs.

While the requirements of flight sculpt most pterosaurs into a similar body plan, there is notable variety to accommodate various lifestyles and sizes. Pterosaurs can be as small as sparrows, as large as tyrannosaurs, and everything in between. Though many pterosaurs live by the coast to catch fish, others move inland and have to find other foods. Tiny nimble pterosaurs flutter around rivers and the hides of larger dinosaurs in search of the insects those locations attract. Long-winged pterosaurs may glide effortlessly for hours at a time across badlands until they spot a carcass to raid, as vultures do. Others may prefer fresh meat and spend their time hunting vermin, lizards, and even small dinosaurs among the larger predatory species.

While only the largest pterosaurs may choose to hunt humanoids, other pterosaurs, including the true pteranodons, tend to be rather aggressive toward people too, especially when people stray too close to the cliffs on which they roost. Such unsuspecting adventurers will likely be greeted by a cacophony of angry squawks before getting divebombed by a horde of sharp-beaked defenders.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pteranodons

Unlike most dinosaurs, finding a mate among pteranodons is rarely a matter of a physical fight. With their fragile bodies, pteranodons would risk too much by entering a period of constant duelling every year. Instead, pteranodons show off with coloured head crests and piercing calls.

Normally gathering in mass on an island, secluded beach, or elevated plateau, pteranodons form huge breeding colonies where they attempt to warn off rivals and attract mates with their intricate displays. Successful displayers carve out a patch of ground roughly as large as their beak can reach, as close to the colony’s centre as they can. From this staging ground, the pteranodon attempts to ward off rivals and persuade others that they are better off settling for her as a mate than seeking to display for themselves.

Once a pair has formed, they will build a nest together, typically little more than a mound of earth or sand that one lays up to six eggs within. When the eggs hatch after a few weeks, the mound is uncovered to make the nest more of a raised crater. Until the hatchlings learn to fly, the parents swap shifts, one standing guard over the clutch while the other flies off to gather food for the young. It only takes a couple of months for juvenile pteranodons to take to the wing and fly off alone. Mating is similar in other pterosaur breeds, though the exact nature of the display as well as the preferred nesting location, incubation, and fledging times all vary by kind.

Men to Pteranodons

For the most part, a female pteranodon will treat men with the same amount of hostility as a woman of his kind. While this is a fairly common trend among dinosaurs, what is surprising is that female pterosaurs of all kinds seem to have an almost unilateral distain for males of all kinds, including of their own breed. The logic seems to be that since males try to fuck as many females as possible, it is likely that a pterosaur who lets herself be knocked up by a male will be raising her offspring alone, a very difficult task. As such a man will likely have to somehow restrain a pteranodon before they will be able to fuck her.

There is, however, an interesting loophole. While most pterosaurs dislike males of their own species, they become quite easily enamoured by larger species of pterosaurs. A male pteranodon may be rejected by his own kind, but he will attain a harem of smaller, insect-eating pterosaurs. A female pteranodon colony, on the other hand, will most likely accept a male dinosaur-eating pterosaur.

It seems that the logic is that a larger pterosaur will have the power to fight off threats that take a colony of smaller pterosaurs to fight; as such, a single large male can be trusted to watch several nests. Pterosaurs seem to only trust males of their wider lineage to uphold their end of the bargain, which appears to be why they reject males like other dinosaurs and people. Still, some theorise that if a man could somehow communicate a promise to protect the young, a pterosaur may be willing to fuck him.

For male pterosaurs too small or unfortunate to find a colony of willing mates, there is always the option to use their agility to assert themselves by force. Normally, on the search for dinosaurs already building nests, male pterosaurs fly in and penetrate the females before they realise what is happening, fucking them before they can figure out that the male that has taken them is in fact much smaller than they would usually tolerate. In this way, the male may fly away unharmed, leaving a few pterosaur eggs to be laid along with the female’s existing eggs. Male pterosaurs may also do this to sufficiently exposed and isolated humanoid women if they are not of a breed strong enough to simply overpower them. Some tribes fight off such rapists fiercely; others see it as a form of divine intervention.

Chapter 72: Triceratops

With a rumble like distant thunder and the cacophony of reptilian bellows, Triceratops herds roam the wilderness, devouring all the ferns, palms, and cycads they want. Though herbivores with no interest in preying on people, it would be a mistake to consider triceratopses safe. Temperamental and easily startled, a stampeding triceratops herd can wipe a village off the map, while a single triceratops, in defence of her young or simply out of alarm, can spell even an experienced warrior’s doom if they aren’t careful.

Three Horned Chargers

Triceratopses are perhaps the most instantly recognisable of all dinosaurs, thanks in no small part to the incredible structures that adorn their heads. From the back of a triceratops’ skull extends a great frill of solid bone, acting as both neck armour and a warning flag for her main structures, a set of three mighty horns. A blow from even one of these horns can run a person through with ease.

In many ways, a triceratops fights like a reptilian elephant, her horns acting in place of tusks. When danger gets too close, a triceratops charges, combining the sharpness of her weaponry with her muscular power and the raw force of a six to eight-ton animal travelling at speed. Any creature that is not gored to death outright is usually knocked down, where the triceratops’ bulk strikes again, trampling her foe.

Like elephants, triceratops tend to live in herds for mutual protection. While bringing down a single triceratops in battle is a challenge, most creatures shy away from attacking the wall of horns and frills that make up an angry triceratops herd. Unlike elephants, however, triceratopses are neither intelligent nor particularly communicative, even by the standards of beasts. With enough distraction or disarray, individual triceratopses can be separated from the herd. Such an isolated individual can rarely trust the herd to come save her unless she can fight her way back to its protection under her own power. It is in this way that predatory dinosaurs and some extraordinarily hardy tribal folk manage to hunt for triceratops.

Prehistoric Pack Beasts

Though most humanoids in dinosaur territory avoid or very occasionally hunt triceratopses for their meat, hide, and horns, more developed civilizations that can attain the resources may sometimes try to tame some triceratopses. This is a costly endeavour, of course; caring for even one triceratops in captivity requires the effort of multiple laborers, tonnes of food, and a myriad of unique equipment. If a society can afford it, though, the price can be well worth paying.

While combatively devastating, of course, a triceratops most comes into her own in simple, straightforward labour. Fairly swift for her size, a single triceratops can carry several people over long distances. With her great strength, a triceratops can also plough the fields or drag enormous carts carrying tonnes of material. In many hidden corners of the world, great temples are built off the backs of triceratops hauling the bricks into place.

Among dinosaurs, triceratopses are relatively docile. Relatively is, unfortunately, the operative word. Like many herbivores, triceratopses are fairly dim-witted and easily spooked. When a triceratops is spooked, she charges. When a triceratops sees another triceratops charge, it spooks her, and she charges too. As such, a single out-of-control triceratops, horribly destructive in her own right, can lead to a chain reaction of panicked dinosaurs, leaving devastation in their wake. It is for this reason that all dinosaur tamers, even those of “simple” herbivores, are afforded the highest level of respect in their society.

Sex and Sexuality Among Triceratopses

Though there is little sociality among triceratopses, there does appear to be a simple social hierarchy in her herd. Whichever triceratops is the strongest and most aggressive rules the herd, if a triceratops wants to challenge the leader, they must simply battle her, locking horns and shoving back and forth until one side tires and gives in, the winner gaining the herd’s leadership.

In day-to-day life, being the leader of the herd is not all that different from being any other triceratops. However, when the wet season comes, it is the leader of the herd who has the sole right to impregnate any member of the herd without a calf already. When mated and impregnated by the leader of their herd, triceratopses make heaps of vegetation to lay their eggs within. To help protect each other’s eggs, triceratopses tend to build their nests close together, but each triceratops will have her own nest, so it is easy to tell whose eggs and hatchlings are whose.

It takes only seven or so weeks for triceratops eggs to hatch, in a clutch of twenty or more only around ten will do so. Once hatched, triceratops hatchlings normally stay in the nest, where they can be fed on regurgitated plants, are best protected from predators, and stand the least chance of being trampled by adults. Only when triceratops hatchlings get to the size of adult wolves can the herd moves on with the calves keeping step. Only two to four hatchlings in a clutch tend to make it this far in the wild.

Men to Triceratopses

When it comes to humanoids, triceratopses are normally more easily alarmed by men than women of their kind. This comes from the instinctual understanding that a male creature may have sexual designs on her. If the male is similarly huge and not an obvious predator, a triceratops will gladly offer herself up to mate, but for humanoids, a triceratops naturally avoids fucking anything so tiny under the assumption that it is weak and will result in weak offspring. As such, a triceratops who notices a humanoid man mentally prepares herself to fight off his attempts to rape her. Little short of magic that can charm or communicate with beasts can placate this agitation.

If a man wants to fuck a triceratops willingly, without magical charms, the only way to get her cooperation is to directly challenge the leader of her herd for dominance. Fighting a leading triceratops is a challenging and possibly deadly proposition. Considering the staggering advantage triceratopses have in strength, it is hardly shameful for a man to utilise humanoid ingenuity to, in a word, cheat. Triceratopses, like most animals, have no comprehension of magic and can thus be warded off quite easily with a sufficiently powerful charm or tired out fighting an illusion. Though not exactly a show of strength, such methods do pave the path to victory and have the entire herd submit to being bred by a man.

When male triceratopses are occasionally born, they usually end up being much stronger and more aggressive than other triceratopses if they manage to reach adulthood. As such, they pretty much always find the dominant position in their herds and enthusiastically make use of their right to fuck and breed their herd members. A male triceratops rarely sticks to her own kind, however. Throwing her weight around, a male triceratops will knock up anything he can overpower, from other dinosaurs to smaller beasts to humanoids and supernatural monsters.

Chapter 73: Tyrannosaurus Rex

In lands far away from the modern refuges of the dinosaurs, tales are told of a creature that strikes terror into even the most aggressive and belligerent of those ancient beasts. It is a dinosaur of such titanic scale and unrestrained power that no one dares stand in its way. The tyrannosaurus rex fears no natural predator, for nature has offered nothing to challenge her besides others of her kind.

Queen of the Dinosaurs

Baring the most powerful of supernatural competition, such as dragons, the tyrannosaurus rex is the undisputed apex of whatever food chain she happens to insert herself within. Tyrannosaurus rex owes this dominance not to any secret weapon or arcane edge but to simple overwhelming might. In preference to a variety of offensive techniques, the tyrannosaurus rex focuses her entire power into her formidable jaws, a weapon so massive that her arms are shrunk to almost comical proportions to avoid becoming overbalanced. A single bite from these jaws can shred through hide, flesh, and bone with ease.

So well-armed, the tyrannosaurus rex is a predator of nearly all in its domain. The main part of a tyrannosaurus rex’s diet is fellow dinosaurs such as triceratops and ankylosaurus. However, between these feasts, tyrannosauruses get their meat from anywhere they can. With a keen sense of smell, a tyrannosaurus rex can easily track down kills made by lesser predators, laying claim to their hard work through intimidation and making a meal out of any unwise enough to stand up to her.

A tyrannosaurus rex will also go after much smaller prey if she happens to come across them. Surprisingly swift and reactive for her size, a tyrannosaurus rex’s great jaws can pluck pterosaurs out of the sky and snap up small herd animals, most often swallowing them whole. A tyrannosaurus rex also has little problem chasing humanoid prey.

Uncontrollable Predators

Even in tribes that live and thrive among dinosaurs day in and day out, even the barest sign of a tyrannosaurus rex fills hunters with dread. Trackers quickly learn the signs that a tyrannosaurus rex has moved into the area, and when these signs appear, it is time for the tribe to move on or take shelter until she leaves. A tyrannosaurus rex fears little; fire and puny warriors do not phase her, and with a sweep of her tail, huts and palisades come crashing down. Few things can keep a tyrannosaurus rex at bay, save caves too narrow for her to enter and tracts of aggressively uneven ground. At her great size and precarious bipedal build, a fall can be disastrous.

For mightier peoples, such as giants, a hunt for a tyrannosaurus rex can be a formidable test for their mightiest warriors. Thanks to this tradition, some incredibly strong and brave humanoids also try to slay the mightiest of dinosaurs, either to free their people from its dominion or for simple glory. Most of the time, these quests are suicide missions whose undertakings cost the adventurers their lives. On the rare occasion that things work out, however, the names of the warriors involved go down in their tribe’s history. However, for the most part, a tyrannosaurus rex is utterly uncontested.

Beyond simply slaying a tyrannosaurus rex, many power-hungry fools have sought to turn the dinosaur’s power to their advantage. Some who achieve the not-so-simple task of subduing a tyrannosaurus rex have some limited success. These so-called tamers of tyrannosauruses are normally more so capable of simply holding the beast captive in some prison and unleashing her on whatever poor soul they feel is worthy of being devoured, resulting in the tyrannosaurus rex being an excessive execution device rather than a helpful companion. Indeed, nothing short of compulsive magic has shown any capability of reliably directing the behaviour of a tyrannosaurus rex.

Sex and Sexuality Among Tyrannosauruses

For most of the time, tyrannosauruses consider each other to be their deadliest rivals. When two tyrannosauruses meet, the exchange of threatening roars can quickly become lethal combat if neither backs down. Still, like all dinosaurs, tyrannosauruses must come together on occasion to mate. As a tyrannosaurus rex reaches the prime of her life and her maximum in size and power, she begins to start desiring a clutch of eggs of her own, normally about one every two or three years. When the breeding season comes, such prime tyrannosauruses proclaimed their readiness to mate with far carrying, sonorous roars.

A tyrannosaurus rex normally is only interested in impregnating a mate who is her size or larger. Since larger tyrannosauruses make mightier roars, potential mates can guess a caller’s size from afar and only smaller tyrannosauruses will be drawn in, often individuals who have only just grown out of the juvenile stage of life. These younger suitors must take care to approach with clear sexual intent and keep up their guard, if a prime tyrannosaurus rex thinks they are looking to claim her territory or she is simply hungry, she will attack.

Unsurprisingly, tyrannosauruses do not stay together long after mating. The young suitor flees as her pregnant mate sets about building a large nest mound of earth and vegetation. A tyrannosaurus rex lays only a handful of eggs in each clutch. Still, for the six or so weeks they take to develop, their mother protects them fiercely. Eating nothing but whatever creatures are foolish enough to try and raid her nest, the mother keeps constant watch. When the eggs hatch, they follow their mother for a while, feeding off of her kills and even helping her hunt as they grow bigger. Eventually, however, as the young tyrannosauruses reach sizes comparable to those of other carnivores like allosauruses, their mother must send them away. For a while, the young tyrannosauruses may work in a pack, but as they reach adult size, they must go their separate ways in order to find enough food.

Men to Tyrannosauruses

In the eyes of a tyrannosaurus rex, a humanoid man is so pathetically puny that it is not worth recognising him for his manhood, only his potential as prey. Successfully assuaging a tyrannosaurus rex’s doubts about one’s worth as a mate is a task no recorded humanoid man has achieved, even with the aid of deceptive magic. Illusions may distract a tyrannosaurus rex’s simple mind, and magical fear may repel her, but neither can make up for the horrendous gulph in power the Queen of Dinosaurs perceives between herself and the humanoid form. As such, most sex with a tyrannosaurus rex has been achieved under heavy magical charms or with powerful restraints.

Even with male creatures closer to her in size, a tyrannosaurus rex often seems to doubt their power before it is put to the test. Therefore, male creatures like dragons, giants, fellow dinosaurs, and many other male monsters have to battle the tyrannosaurus rex in order to claim her. Many find this endeavour to be worth it, for complete sexual dominance seems to be the only way to gain a tyrannosaurus rex’s lasting loyalty and affection.

Even more untameable than others of his kind, a male tyrannosaurus rex, on the rare occasion one hatches and grows to adulthood, utterly dominates his domain. For him, all living things are food or mates, at his discretion. Usually a male tyrannosaurus rex is just intelligent enough to spare the most compliant mates from becoming his next meal.

As a result of this forbearance, combined with the majesty of his combative and sexual power, many humanoid tribes end up offering themselves sexually and otherwise serving a male tyrannosaurus rex’s needs. Swiftly, the dinosaur learns that by withholding his power to kill, he attains all the food, shelter, and tight, human-sized pussies he could possibly desire. As tribes start to take his cock and birth his eggs, many shift from a simple protection arrangement and begin to worship him as a god.

A male tyrannosaurus may tolerate his worshiper’s rituals, allowing himself to be painted and bejewelled as long as he continues to receive willing mates, but he will come and go as he pleases, with none to truly control him. If the worshipers include druids of sufficient power in their ranks, they may even grant their god humanoid intelligence so he may rule them as a true god-king would. Many outsiders and historians disparage these “dinosaur cults” as primitive tribeswomen falling prey to basic lust. However, there is something to say for the benefit of the juvenile tyrannosaurus packs that defend their birthplace from anything that smells foreign to their mother’s kind.

Chapter 74: Displacer Beast (Art)

Named for the natural illusion that surrounds them, obfuscating their true position to appear a few feet away, displacer beasts would be little more than magically aided predators if not for the actions of the Unseelie fey. When the bloodthirsty warriors and bored nobles of the Gloaming Court noticed the natural potential of the displacer beasts, they captured them and began to selectively breed them, not only with each other but with the rapacious male fey that owed their allegiance to the court. Over time, displacer beasts were honed into the perfect hunting companions and infected with the Unseelie’s wicked nature and a glimmer of malign intelligence.

Black Hearted Tormentors

Resembling in many ways a big cat like a panther or lion with sleek, muscular builds, a displacer beast is readily differentiated from a natural predator by their additional limbs, cephalopod-like tentacles, armed with vicious hooks, and an inherent and intentional cruelty burning in their eyes. Bred by the unseelie fey to hunt down and savagely kill unicorns, pegasi, and other magical creatures most predators instinctively see as too good and pure to prey upon, one of the first traits to be introduced to the displacer beasts was a profound draw towards evil, beyond any carnivorous instinct to survive.

The modern displacer beast is therefore a ruthless killer. While a beast like a lion may look similar, the displacer beast is both physically and behaviorally monstrous. While a natural predator will hunt only as she grows hungry, otherwise she will save herself the risk of injury and unnecessary energy use, displacer beasts hunt whenever they sense the presence of entertaining prey. If a displacer beast is not hungry, she will taunt and toy with her prey, dashing in and out of cover and striking painful blows with her tentacles without ever putting herself in range of a retaliatory strike before she can fall back. Only when the prey’s terror and suffering become banal does the displacer beast finish them off. Though a displacer beast will eat most things she can bring down, she is also just as happy to leave perfectly good meat to rot if she isn’t hungry.

Serving their own sadistic whims above all else, displacer beasts are still rather capable of building rather loyal bonds in the right circumstances, likely a holdover from their fey mistresses’ training. The main requirements to earn a displacer beast's loyalty seem to be to match or exceed her level of evil ambition and be too much of a risk to her own wellbeing to simply kill. The exchange that thus takes place is thus a simple one: the villain gains a guard beast to protect her and emanate an air of power, and the displacer beast gets a front row seat to their mistress’ acts of merciless depravity.

Cunning Escapees

Though it is known that the unseelie fey took steps to breed together the most wicked and intelligent of their displacer beast stock, the exact level of intellect manifested in the end is somewhat hard to determine. On the one hand, displacer beasts can be very animalistic at times, especially when enraged or overwhelmed, and it is rare for displacer beasts to show much capability in forming plots or long-term plans. On the other hand, displacer beasts do show a level of tactical capability and comprehension of the intentions and thought processes of confirmed intelligent creatures beyond what can be rationalised as pure instinctual cunning. Regardless of the specifics, it can be confirmed that displacer beasts got much smarter than their fey mistresses had initially intended.

After only a few centuries of captive breeding and servitude under the yoke of the Unseelie Court, it seems that many of the later generations of displacer beasts began to gain the insight necessary to resent their captors. It was shortly after this development that many displacer beasts escaped into the untamed corners of the Feywild. Once there, the displacer beasts found their unseelie style of hunting to be a great benefit, and they successfully bred into great numbers, much to the detriment of the other vibrant lifeforms that called the Realm of the Fey home.

Eventually, the invasive displacer beasts wrought so much destruction to the Feywild that the matter was brought to the attention of the seelie fey of the Summer Court, the unseelie court’s bitter rivals. Seeing the turmoil wrought by the Gloaming Court’s latest curiosity, the seelie fey decided it was up to them to clean up the mess. With faithful blink dog companions in tow, the Summer Court’s greatest huntresses went fourth to purge the displacer beasts from the Feywild. While this campaign was not a complete success, the seelie fey did manage to dramatically cut down the displacer beast’s numbers, driving those that remained to the Feywild’s darkest corners. Other displacer beasts found places where the barrier between the Feywild and Material Plane thinned enough for them to escape through. While these escapees have never reached the plaguelike proportions they once did for the fey, displacer beasts have hooked their claws deep into the Material Plane and utterly refuse to let go to this day.

Sex and Sexuality Among Displacer Beasts

Though equally happy to live by themselves, displacer beasts are capable of interacting socially, sometimes forming groups of two to six individuals called prides. Whether in a pride or alone, however, displacer beasts will still come together to breed every so often. Though regularity depends somewhat on the ready access of prey, most displacer beasts breed about once every two years. Typically pairing up in the autumn, mating pairs tend to isolate themselves while breeding, temporarily leaving their pride, if they have one, to find a sheltered area to raise their young, typically a dense thicket or a cave.

The mating of displacer beasts tends to be a rather hostile affair. Since displacer beasts cannot naturally see through each other’s displacements, the first stage of the process is for the displacer beasts to grab hold of each other and figure out where their mate’s pussy truly is. This normally devolves into a fight of sorts, since the first one to successfully find their partner’s pussy will almost certainly be the one to impregnate her rather than be impregnated, a strain most displacer beasts are eager to foist onto their partners. Even when reproductive dominance is established, displacer beast sex is still terribly violent, with biting, clawing, and whipping with tentacles.

Displacer beasts tend to lair together after mating, sharing food and shelter as they wait for the spring, when one to four kittens are born. At birth, displacer beast kittens greatly resemble multiple-limbed domestic cats, for whatever reason. Some think that this was from the unseelie fey desiring cute pets; others believe it to be a ploy to make people keep their guard down. As the kitten grows, her tentacles sprout, and her displacement ability activates, her play becomes more and more sadistic, eventually evolving into merely following her parents to learn how to hunt. At around half a month of age, the displacer beast kitten is old enough to face the world by herself, and the family disperses.

Men to Displacer Beasts

Back when the displacer beasts were being moulded into the malicious creatures the world knows today, they were not only bred with each other but also with the variety of powerfully evil male fey the Gloaming Court boasted at the time, not only increasing the rate at which captive displacer beasts could be impregnated but also possibly encouraging the kittens born from these unions to inherit the callous and sadistic traits of their fey fathers.

Perhaps from this treatment, with a species-wide exposure to some of the most unloving, selfish, and rapacious men to ever exist, a kind of traumatic delusion built of hatred, fear, and awe developed in regards to men and masculinity as a whole, a trauma that has continued to linger among displacer beasts to this day. On the whole, men and male creatures receive notably prejudicial treatment from displacer beasts; while a displacer beast usually hunts its prey by its ability to suffer, she will almost always target a male creature over a female one, seeming to revel in the chance to avenge their mothers’ mothers.

At the same time, however, this particularly strong loathing is born of fear. When a displacer beast develops even the slightest inkling that a man she is preying on has the potential to turn the tables on them, this fear comes to the surface. While this makes displacer beasts seem oddly cowardly, this fear can also manifest as a form of awe, making them pliable to a man’s orders and dictates. While a displacer beast may only usually put up with letting herself be fucked and impregnated before seeking to escape, a man of sufficiently evil countenance can all too easily bully a displacer beast into being his pet and birthing device.

Though they seem to be somewhat rarer than among other monstrosities, male displacer beasts can make a dramatic change to the environment around them. Taking full advantage of the awe and fear their kind’s females have for males, male displacer beasts often subjugate a pride as their loyal harem. This, however, is rarely enough. When a male displacer beast isn’t hungry, he may rape the prey he catches. Sometimes, a male displacer beast will drag wounded, terrified, but still living women back to his lair to keep as his personal sexual property. Male displacer beasts seem most fond of sexually enslaving fey and elves, seeming to enjoy the reversal of their kind’s sexual exploitation.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 75: Doppelganger

Though she has a swing as strong as a sledgehammer and is as difficult to put down as a hardened warrior, a doppelganger doesn’t fill people with dread for its combative capabilities. Indeed, most doppelgangers are loathe to engage in a physical brawl, especially one with lives on the line. The most feared ability of the doppelganger is their capability to, at any time, change their face at will, taking over a victim’s very life.

Monster of Many Faces

The top line defining ability of a doppelganger is the power to make themselves appear to be any humanoid creature they can imagine. The true form of a doppelganger is a tall, gangly, vaguely human-shaped creature with dark, rubbery flesh and a face without features beyond a pair of blank, pupilless eyes. Once transformed, however, there are few ways to determine a doppelganger’s true identity against her will. More than a simple illusion that may be detected or dispelled, a doppelganger’s disguise is a full body transformation, from her skin all the way down to her internal organs, so long as she continues to live. While this makes for a convincing disguise, there is one minor roadblock.

When the goddess Nymphona shaped the world into her desired form, she made several laws that limited the potential of even magic. Among these decrees was that no force, natural, arcane, or divine, could transform a creature’s biological sex. A man cannot become a woman, nor vice versa. As a result, a doppelganger who is female, as most obviously are, can only shapeshift into women.

Beyond this minor hurdle, a doppelganger has almost unlimited range to become any person she pleases, from a squat, civilised halfling all the way up to a towering, savage orc. Age is also no issue; even in the prime of her life, a doppelganger may disguise herself as anything from a pigtailed little girl all the way to a hunched, withered crone. If she so desires, a doppelganger can weave a whole appearance solely from the loom of her own imagination. Alternatively, and more worryingly, doppelgangers can also turn themselves into an exact clone of anybody of their sex they have so much as had a glance at, rendering themselves into a body that, even on close inspection, is completely indistinguishable.

Consummate Freeloaders

With her startling array of abilities, a doppelganger could well be a deadly assassin, become a usurper of whole kingdoms, or possibly gain every secret as the worlds greatest spy. In a small mercy however, few doppelgangers take this path so long as there are easier livings to be made. Doppelgangers are a fundamentally lazy race, devoid of greater personal ambition to a level nearly unimaginable to a true humanoid. Most doppelgangers desire only to live comfortable lives with the utter minimum of effort on their part.

To achieve this goal, a doppelganger, either alone or in a small band of her kind, will seek out individuals who live lives of plenty with few responsibilities. Lesser nobles, clerks of obscure function, and oft-donated to lay clergy are all appealing marks. Once a victim or family of victims is found, the doppelgangers sneak into their homes, overpower them, and take over their lives.

Though doppelgangers can perfectly replicate the appearance, physiques, and even voices of their target, their transformation isn’t entire. For one, a doppelganger’s transformation grants her the body of her model, not their clothing or personal effects. More pressingly, doppelgangers do not gain their victim’s minds, meaning they have none of the memories or unique talents of the person they intend to portray. While the former issue is usually solved by simply pilfering the required garments, doppelgangers have a secondary, subtler ability that may be put to use.

As well as the ability to change appearance at will, doppelgangers have a delicate form of telepathy, just strong enough to read the surface thoughts of a nearby individual. By reading the mind of whoever they interact with, a doppelganger can tell what is expected of her and flub her way through most conversations. Some information is so critical however that it must be gotten from the source. For this reason, doppelgangers seldom dispose of their victims by killing them, instead locking them away in some hidden place where they can be interrogated for clues on how to better assume their identity.

Sex and Sexuality Among Doppelgangers

Lazy and hedonistic, doppelgangers often engage in sex for pleasure very readily. Members of a doppelganger gang are likely to have all known each other sexually at one time or another. The sexual proclivities of doppelgangers are also as widely varied as those of ordinary people, with the additional benefit of being able to take on any humanoid form to satisfy any kink or interest. Most doppelgangers lack the patience or empathy to maintain long-term monogamy, however, and brush off infidelity with ease regardless of what end they are interacting with it from. While they are all too happy to fuck for personal pleasure, reproductive sex is a far more complicated affair.

Though invested with a basic instinct to perpetuate her kind, like most mortal creatures, a doppelganger’s fundamental laziness makes her basally disinclined to take on the enormous responsibility of raising a child. As such, doppelgangers parent in the same way they do all difficult tasks: by imposing it on unsuspecting humanoids.

When a doppelganger desires offspring, she takes on a form she thinks will earn her an easy sexual partner. A doppelganger will usually either give herself an attractive enough disguise to earn a one-night stand or else disguise herself as a woman’s spouse while having allies preoccupy the real spouse long enough for her to slip in and fuck the unknowing adulterer. In any case, the doppelganger attempts to get the target woman pregnant and then slips away, never to be seen by the mother or child again.

If a humanoid is successfully impregnated by a doppelganger, the pregnancy and birth will proceed unremarkably, and she will give birth to a baby that seems correct considering its mother and the form its patter took during conception. For thirteen years, the child will grow normally before experiencing a sudden drop in empathy towards their supposed family and race, normally leading them to abandon their childhood home. Soon after, the child will transform into their true form. Realizing what they are, the new doppelganger will take on a new disguise and go out in search of others of their kind, so as to learn their parasitic way of life. Thankfully, doppelgangers intentionally limit their reproductive activity; too many doppelgangers in an area makes competition for cushy positions more intensive and makes their victims more vigilant.

Doppelgangers can be impregnated by humanoids, male or female, causing them to give birth to a baby doppelganger in around eight months. Doppelgangers avoid this eventuality, not only because getting pregnant and raising a child is hard work but also for a couple of other reasons. Firstly, a doppelganger born to a doppelganger mother is born in its true form and does not gain the ability to transform until around thirteen years of age. As such, a young doppelganger must be hidden away from the world, lest they alert outsiders to their parent's conspiracies. More alarming for a doppelganger is the fact that, when a doppelganger is impregnated by a humanoid, there is a chance she will give birth to a changeling, a paler being with all the transformative ability of a doppelganger but all the ambition and unpredictability of a humanoid. Though an alarming combination, changelings are just as capable of using their natural talents for good as for evil or self-interest.

Men to Doppelgangers

Since female doppelgangers cannot impersonate men, it is rarely worth a doppelganger’s time to try to harm or take advantage of a man’s resources or position. As a result, a doppelganger usually just keeps her head down and stays out of a man’s way. Occasionally, if in a position of influence, a doppelganger may try to subtly bend the interests of the people in regards to men, normally fostering either hostility or obstructive adoration, in order to make it harder for a man to get to her.

For the sake of keeping up appearances, a doppelganger can feign politeness with a man or even sexual interest. Some sexual curiosity may even be genuine, but it will usually be trumped by her fear of being impregnated and her inability to trust a man to keep his word if she asks him not to get her pregnant. Still, doppelgangers are not outright phobic of men as beings; if a doppelganger thinks they can take advantage of a man, either by his lust or by some other means, they do so with no less confidence than with a female con victim. Unless beauty is required by the scam, most doppelgangers usually tend to take on unattractive forms around men to subtly discourage them from seeking to fuck them.

Male doppelgangers are pretty rare, though this may have less to do with birth rates and more to do with male doppelganger survivability. In most cases, male doppelgangers are coldly rejected by females of their kind, not only refused sex, but also any position in their bands. This is not only out of fear that a male doppelganger may impregnate them, but also for a few other reasons.

Firstly, while female doppelgangers limit their impregnation, male doppelgangers have no such self-control, causing a massive spike in doppelganger births that increase competition and risk suspicion from the local populous. Secondly, just like female doppelgangers, male doppelgangers cannot use their shapeshifting powers to change gender. As such, a male doppelganger can only take on male disguises, thus severely limiting the cons a male doppelganger can assist in. Male doppelgangers that survive usually find areas where men have a heroic reputation and use that reputation to get all the food, gold, and sex they need.

Chapter 76: Dracolich

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

Though long-lived enough that their lifespan may as well be forever from a human perspective, a dragon’s life is very much finite. Unless brought down by misfortune or violence, a dragon can expect to live for upwards of one thousand, two hundred years, but when their time comes, a dragon will experience a swift decline in fortitude and pass on, often in a cataclysm of their native power for chromatic dragons or by peacefully becoming one with their environment as a metallic dragon. Many dragons dislike the prospect of their rein combining to an end, but only a select few have the wickedness, narcissism, and desperation to avoid it by the path of the drocolich. Only the most callous and dishonourable dragons seek this path, for by embracing undeath, they reject their kind’s pride, casting themselves out of the grand lineage of dragons.

Dragon Cult Conversion

In order for a dragon to successfully become a dracolich, they must first be fully grown with a fanatically loyal following of mystically capable humanoid cultists who they can trust with their lives. This may seem difficult; after all, people under a dragon’s yoke would logically do well to feign loyalty and then abandon the dragon to die at the transformation’s crucial step. However, fear, greed, and social pressure can do a lot to warp someone’s ability to rebel. There are even independent cults that endeavour to fill the world with as many dracoliches as possible to achieve some inscrutable goal.

When the required assistance and materials are amassed, the ritual can begin. To start with, the dragon imbibes a virulently lethal brew that slays her almost instantaneously. As the dragon dies, her cultist servants begin an arcane rite to ensnare the dragon’s departing soul, preventing it from making its way to its intended destination. From there, the dragon’s soul is funnelled into a great soul gem. When the gem is brought into contact with the dragon’s dead body, the corpse reanimates, and a new dracolich is born.

Over time, a dracolich’s flesh may rot away to nothing, and patches of scales may slough off the bones, leaving only ragged patches behind. Despite this, the dracolich remains as powerful and vital as she was in life, often being even more so. With the power of undeath fuelling her, age is a concern of the past, pain and hunger become distant memories, and not even death in combat can end a drocolich’s eternal rein.

Much like a humanoid lich’s phylactery, a dracolich’s soul gem is the core of her power. When a dracolich’s body is slain, her soul retreats to her soul gem, so long as it is on the same plane as the one in which she met her demise. Thanks to the incredible power of a dragon’s soul, a dracolich doesn’t need to fuel her soul gem with mortal souls like a lich does her phylactery. However, the great majesty of a dragon’s body means that a soul gem cannot weave a new one for its dracolich when her soul returns to it. Instead, the soul must wait within the gem for a dragon’s corpse, either her own or another dragon’s, to be brought into her soul gem’s vicinity, letting her possess it and thus rise again. Like a lich’s phylactery, it is only with her soul gem’s destruction, a feat of no humble undertaking, that a dracolich becomes vulnerable to final and total destruction.

Plans for Eternity

To become a dracolich is for a dragon to turn her back on dragonkind as a whole, forever making herself a pariah and a target for destruction. Even evil dragons are more often than not disgusted by the concept of dracolichdom, for it represents an utter contempt for the grandeur that being born a dragon represents. Other dragons usually seek to kill dracoliches wherever they are discovered. Even the dragon goddesses, both evil and good, abandon those children who would dare seek undeath instead of willingly returning to their embrace when the time comes. Thanks to this, most dracoliches are completely alone, with no allies that match their calibre.

Dragons, however, are naturally independent creatures, so a dracolich is usually well equipped to look after her own needs. With potential eternity before her and no natural needs to attend, a dracolich is free to dedicate every iota of her energy to fulfilling her desires, typically stemming from the dual vices all dragons possess: a monumental ego and greed.

Wise enough to know that even knowledge of her very existence could unite otherwise feuding dragons to stand against her, a dracolich usually operates with subtlety, taking advantage of sycophantic cultists and unprincipled mercenaries to sow the seeds of her schemes through the land, right under her rival’s noses, until she has placed herself in such a position as to feel untouchable to her foes.

Desiring more than just a massive treasure horde, most dracoliches dream of a world where they rule eternally over all, having claimed such power that not even dragons may challenge them and all will bow down. With no impending death to rush them, dracoliches can afford to be patient to the extreme, happy to wait for generations for the opportune time to complete the next stage of her plan. Being the cornerstone of their existence, most dracoliches look into necromancy at some point. Using magic, a dracolich supplements her generations of mortal followers with the undead, a horde she plots to bring forth as a fell army when her plan approaches fruition.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dracoliches

Though undeath leaves a dracolich’s psyche and power relatively intact, a dragon who is considering the transformation into a dracolich has one sacrifice in particular to ponder heavily upon: her progeny. While a dracolich’s breasts suffer little beyond a firming up through mumification and the physical structure of her draconic womb is usually at least partially retained, she suffers the same loss most undead creatures suffer in that she becomes totally barren as far as other female life is concerned. No female creature can be impregnated by a dracolich, nor can any be impregnated by her. That is even assuming that any dragon would sully herself by even trying to mate with an animated dragon corpse.

Thanks to these limitations, dragons with particularly strong sexual drives or a desire for many offspring rarely seek to become dracoliches. Many dragons that do plan on becoming dracoliches make sure to invest in a clutch or two of offspring before the transfer to undeath makes them incapable of doing so. Upon undergoing the transformation, many dracoliches discover a sudden loss of sensitivity. While numbing them to pain, a dracolich also loses much of her ability to feel physical pleasure from touch.Thanks to these limitations, dragons with particularly strong sexual drives or a desire for many offspring rarely seek to become dracoliches. Many dragons that do plan on becoming dracoliches make sure to invest in a clutch or two of offspring before the transfer to undeath makes them incapable of doing so. Upon undergoing the transformation, many dracoliches discover a sudden loss of sensitivity. While numbing them to pain, a dracolich also loses much of her ability to feel physical pleasure from touch. As such, dracoliches tend to become increasingly dissatisfied with their attempts to enjoy sexual activity until their lust all but completely disappears.

Men to Dracoliches

Despite the majesty and legendary status attributed to dragons as a whole, most men are uncomfortable with the idea of fucking a dracolich for the same reason most don’t want to fuck zombies. For her part, a dracolich is usually perfectly happy to not fuck a man. Her ability to feel lust all but extinguished, a dracolich observes a man objectively, having no interest in having sex with him and only observing him in the ways he could threaten or assist her schemes, normally unwittingly and dealt with through mortal go between.

At the same time, dracoliches rarely let go of their draconic pride and vanity, which may lead them to act with unusual boldness when a man interacts with them. Though normally completely disinterested in any sexual activity, a dracolich may see how a man lusts after living dragons but is disgusted at the thought of fucking her undead form and decide it is some form of insult. A dracolich’s revenge may be sudden and violent, or it may be intricate and drawn out with a complicated plot that takes decades to deploy.

In some extreme cases, a dracolich may be losing but has not entirely lost her sense of lust. In a last-ditch attempt to retain her mortal desires, the dracolich may swallow her pride as a dragon a second time and seek to capture a man, hoping to use his cock to rekindle the lustful feelings within her. If a dracolich does fuck a living man, she usually does not get pregnant; the sperm simply leaks from her damaged, inanimate womb. On rare occasions, however, the life force of the man’s living sperm may merge with some of the animating force from the dracolich’s soul, creating what resembles a pregnancy. What is laid as a result is not the egg of a living dragon, however. With its shell crumbling the moment it passes out of her body, the creature within is a bloated mockery of a dragon’s wyrmling with stunted wings. Undead from birth, these so-called dracolichlings do not grow past their birth size, are about as cunning as a common zombie, and are agreed by most dracoliches to be nowhere near powerful enough to bother intentionally producing.

Of all the male dragons recorded to have existed, good and evil, none have even considered the process of becoming dracoliches. While there is no theoretical reason the dracolich transformation ritual would not work on a male dragon, there is a fairly simple reason why no male dragon has pursued dracolichdom as a path to immortality. Just like for female dragons, a male dragon who decided to become a dracolich would entirely sacrifice his ability to breed. With virility being one of the main driving forces in any male dragon’s life, giving it up in the name of immortality is a ridiculous notion that no draconic male would pursue.

Chapter 77: Dragon, Shadow

The Shadowfell is not exactly a plane of evil; rather, it is one of entropy, where vitality and passion are drawn away from the living as a matter of course rather than malice. Though most imagine the empty husks of what were once adventurers as the plane’s main victims, even the mightiest of creatures can fall prey to the draw of the Shadowfell.

As a dragon gets older she may sleep in her lair for years at a time. In this torpid state, the dragon may not notice as the dark cavern she calls home slowly transforms into a portal to the Shadowfell, one which silently spirits her away. If the dragon doesn’t awaken, realise what is going on, and escape back to the Material Plane quickly, it only takes a matter of years for the misery of the Shadowfell to merge with her entirely. When this process is complete, the mighty dragon is recast inexorably in darkness, and a new shadow dragon comes to be.

Bleak Metamorphosis

Taking place over years, years a dragon normally sleeps blissfully through, the irreversible transformation the Shadowfell inflicts upon her starts from the outside and works its way in. From the first days a dragon spends in the Shadowfell, the gloom of the plane hungrily robs the lustre from her scales until they are a dull matte black.

The dragon’s body not only darkens, but also loses substance. Thin membranes like wings and frills fade to translucency, and in darkness, a shadow dragon’s body seems to melt away, becoming nearly incorporeal as it becomes impossible to tell where the dragon ends and the darkness begins. This fortitude in darkness, however, comes with the total abhorrence of light, sunlight in particular. A shadow dragon’s ashen eyes are burned almost blind in the light of the sun, while its glow stings her flesh like a needle-filled vice.

As the shadow dragon’s transformation completes, her body is transformed in its entirety. Instead of burning, electrifying, freezing, or whatever it once did, the breath weapon of a shadow dragon expels the shadow of whatever it once produced, a shadow that sucks the very life out of whatever it engulfs. People killed by this entropic breath are severed from their shadows, which arise as the dragon’s undead thralls.

As well as her body and capabilities, the shadow dragon is also transformed in her mind. As the inescapable reality of her transformation dawns upon her, most dragons tend to be enraged at first. Soon though, such capacity for passion is diluted by the great emptiness of the Shadowfell, leaving the shadow dragon depressed and then, eventually, simply resigned to her gloomy fate. Still, in this resignation, sparks of draconic drive still linger; as such, shadow dragons thirst for activity and enrichment in their unspeakably dull lives.

Any living guest who may have stories to tell or entertainment to provide is worth their weight in gold to a shadow dragon; thus, even an evil-natured shadow dragon may be an oddly gracious host. However, a shadow dragon knows that letting such guests leave will condemn her back to her empty life. As such, a visitor to a shadow dragon’s lair is usually more of a prisoner. If this guest does not find a way out of their host’s clutches, they will likely be disposed of the moment they are overwhelmed by the Shadowfell’s malaise.

The Shadows Grow

For most shadow dragons, naught awaits them but a life of subsistence in choking boredom, vainly hoping that a mortal may happen upon them to bring a flickering light to their darkness for a while. Sometimes, however, a shadow dragon is fortunate enough to find an escape, a portal back to the Material Plane. Most shadow dragons, so long as they aren’t unmotivated to the point of aproaching death, take the chance they are given.

On the Material Plane, shadow dragons are almost immediately freed from the Shadowfell’s demotivational force, letting them brim once again with draconic ambition. However, a shadow dragon is a being of the Shadowfell and can never truly escape the plane’s influence. As such, the Material Plane’s comparative lack of despair and apparent overabundance of hope discomfort shadow dragons.

While some shadow dragons seek out corners of the Material Plane of appropriate gloom for their tastes and live a fairly standard life for a dragon, others endeavour to make their new home on the Material Plane more comfortable for them. With their dark presence, shadow dragons draw in a great many loyal undead servants, from shadows and spectres to ghouls and wights. By unleashing these underlings onto the surrounding territory, locals begin to live lives of terror as their hopes and ambitions fritter away.

As misery grows, the shadow dragon’s influence becomes stronger. In the lands around a shadow dragon’s lair, the sun shines slightly less brightly, and dusk seems to drift in somewhat early. In dark corners and open graves, pathways to the Shadowfell silently open up, letting dark creatures through and swallowing up anyone who stumbles into them. Eventually, the gloom grows so strong that the dragon and her territory, land, structures, people, and all may be ripped from the Material Plane and back into the Shadowfell, a kingdom of misery with a shadow dragon as its queen.

Sex and Sexuality Among Shadow Dragons

Thanks to the sheer lack of motivation the Shadowfell creates, shadow dragons rarely engage in social interaction with one another. However, when shadow dragons overcome their sullenness and territoriality, they quickly learn that sex is one of the few activities that can alleviate the depressive symptoms of the Shadowfell. As such, shadow dragons can become surprisingly sexually active, fucking their neighbours just as often as their territorial instincts will let them tolerate another dragon’s presence.

Despite their corruption, shadow dragons are living creatures who are no less dragons for their transformation, thus making them fully capable of getting pregnant. Even when having frequent sex, however, shadow dragons have a low birth rate. Whether the Shadowfell dampens their fertility or simply drains their motivation to breed is unknown. When a shadow dragon lays her eggs, she normally treats them to the Shadowfell’s version of her unshadowed kind’s incubation. However, the true need of a shadow dragon’s coal-black eggs is simply to be kept in the Shadowfell, in complete darkness. Having developed in the gloom, a shadow dragon’s egg, or indeed any dragon egg hatched in the Shadowfell, will hatch into a shadow dragon.

Though eventually able to fuck each other, shadow dragons tend to discover quickly that sex is most satisfying to them when done with living creatures, free of the Shadowfell’s influence. As a result, a shadow dragon is almost eager to put her draconic pride to the side for a while to fuck nearly anything that has recently come from the Material Plane. This has given shadow dragons a bit of a reputation for being sexually easy dragons for even mere mortals to fuck. In truth, however, the process of crossing over to the Shadowfell, successfully finding and convincing a shadow dragon to fuck, and getting out alive is a process fraught with danger. Like true dragons, the offspring of a shadow dragon and a non-dragonic being is a half dragon, specifically one with a necrotic breath weapon.

Men to Shadow Dragons

Even more so than other living beings, a living male of any species can prove to be a temporary salvation to a shadow dragon’s life of depression. The ecstasy and excitement of being fucked by a man seem to be pleasures that not even the Shadowfell can diminish. As such, shadow dragons can at times seem devoid of the pride that keeps most dragons from willingly fucking a man. A shadow dragon may try to appear sexually vulnerable or flirtatious; if she has the means to contact the Material Plane, she may even send out calls for a man to come and claim her.

Like most good things in the Shadowfell, this welcoming nature is a trap. While often completely genuine at the time of offering, actually fucking a shadow dragon and dispelling her misery allows her true, uncorrupted nature to spill through, for a time at least. Again flushed with draconic pride, many shadow dragons become enraged that a man would dare take advantage of their emotional vulnerability, turning violent when the man is in his most vulnerable position. Other, more pragmatic dragons often realise that the freedom a man’s cock grants is only temporary and elects to keep him prisoner to use whenever the Shadowfell’s influence starts to return, getting as much use out of him as possible until the Shadowfell’s despair destroys him.

There are no historical records of male dragons finding themselves lost in the Shadowfell long enough to become shadow dragons. Assumedly, this is simply a result of probability, with the number of historically significant male dragons being so small that it never crossed over with the proportion of dragons the Shadowfell randomly claims. Hypothetically, there is nothing stopping a male shadow dragon from coming to be if given the right conditions.

Chapter 78: Dragons

Creatures of legendary repute, tales of dragons are spoken in hushed terror or reverent awe wherever there are mouths to speak them. Far more than a massive, winged reptile, a dragon is the culmination of bestial power, arcane might, and elemental fury. Virtually nothing can stand to challenge the dominance of a dragon in her prime; nothing save for another dragon.

True dragons, as opposed to their lesser dragon kin, such as dragon turtles and wyverns, come in a variety of forms, which scholars have categorised into species and breeds. Most varieties of true dragons can be categorised into two groups: the usually black-hearted chromatic dragons and the most often virtuous metallic dragons. Both classes of true dragons and the individual types of dragons therein will be described in more detail in the following chapters, but this chapter aims to describe dragons as a whole.

Apex of the World

An adult dragon, in her great power, has little to fear from any individual foe. Able to easily take to the air despite her great size, few creatures can escape a determined draconic pursuer. With scaled armour like tenfold shields, teeth like swords, claws like a phalanx of spearwomen, and wings containing a hurricane’s force, there is little in a dragon’s domain she is incapable of preying on if she so chooses.

While the power of her body is enough to make her a ruler among predators, dragons are most well known for the supernatural power they house within. From her jaws, as easily as a person may breathe, a dragon can expel a stream of destructive elemental power. Though the nature of a dragon’s breath weapon depends largely on her kind, all dragons can lay waste to everything before them with their elemental exhalation, be it flame, storm, ice, or any other destructive element. Whole armies can be laid low as a dragon opens her mouth.

Though they are deadly predators, true dragons are not brute beasts. True dragons are intelligent creatures with their own language, personalities, and perspectives on the world. In their many centuries of existence, many dragons have indeed become very wise, learning a great deal about the world and their place in it. From this observation and a natural spark within their hearts, virtually all dragons harbour a great deal of pride in their being, seeing themselves as the greatest of mortal creatures. This is not without merit, of course. With their great power and wisdom, dragons could and have, in the distant past, come to rule the world together. Thankfully, however, modern dragons seem to be of a territorial and isolationist nature that prevents such operations from reaching nearly so far.

Legendary Hoarders

All dragons, from the most unstably sociopathic to the most noble and beneficent, share a single cardinal sin: greed. This compulsion and love for gold, jewels, and similar valuables is more than one could expect from even the most covetous humanoid miser and reaches an extent where it is hard to put into understandable non-draconic terms.

When a dragon says she wants something, it is less an expression of desire and more a statement of the perceived debt the world owes her. A dragon doesn’t truly wish to persuade anyone to award their treasure to her but instead expects the treasure to be turned over to her as she is the only being she sees as deserving to have it, a fact that, in the dragon’s mind at least, should be obvious. Individuals who deny a dragon her material desires are thus not only challenging the dragon’s authority but are flat-out refusing the state of reality as the dragon sees it.

Inbuilt with such a strong desire to accumulate wealth, dragons are masters of acquiring great hoards of treasure. From glittering coins and gemstones to great works of art and magical artifacts, the accumulated treasures of a dragon boggle regular minds. Unlike other creatures who hunger for wealth, a dragon collects its hoard with no intention of spending even a copper piece of it. For a dragon, her treasure is not an object of barter or stockpile to represent future goods but a mass of incredible intrinsic value and personal comfort. Thus, a dragon’s hoard sits, unmoved, for centuries, its owner gazing at its lustre and resting upon it for years of slumber. With the great amount of treasure a dragon accumulates, with virtually none leaving her possession, the value of a dragon’s hoard can become a thing of legend.

With the uncountable greatness of a dragon’s fortune, many bold or foolish adventurers dream of taking the risk to burgle a few choice artefacts from a dragon or, more daring yet, slay her for the whole thing. Of course, such plans are hardly the easiest to achieve, not least of all for the presence of the dragon herself.

While few creatures are particularly tolerant of being robbed, for a dragon, the desire to retain all she has accumulated approaches the strength of the desire to live itself, falling short of it by an infinitesimally small margin. Even for dragons interested in serving the greater good, being asked to part with even one thing from their hoard invites the same emotional impact as a regular person would experience on being asked permission to gouge one of their organs out.

As well as their own might, dragons tend to dedicate a great deal of effort towards protecting their treasure. The lair of a dragon is thus more often than not rife with all manner of traps, diversions, and pitfalls, and it crawls with a menagerie of the dragon’s aggressive pets and loyal minions.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dragons

Though not what many people first think of when considering them, dragons are in fact incredibly sexual beings. Bursting with primal energy, dragons feel all of their moods with incredible power, with lust being no stranger to them. Also befitting their power, dragons are the epitome of both fertility and virility. When a dragon endeavours to breed, she is virtually always successful, even when her mate is not a dragon.

A dragon can fuck all manner of people, giants, monsters, or beasts and end up pregnant or, more often, impregnating her partner with half-dragon offspring. As well as sating her lust, a dragon normally produces half-dragon offspring for more pragmatic reasons, typically in search of a guard beast or minion fortified with her draconic power. Some more moral dragons treat their more intelligent half-dragon offspring as wards of sorts, but most agree that they are not true children in the way fully draconic offspring would be.

Despite being so filled with raw sexual appetite, dragons mate with each other only rarely. This has less to do with incapability and more to do with having a very wise level of caution. Dragons know and respect each other for the pride they have in their power. Dragons also know, however, that this pride can cause overly bold or presumptuous invites to mate to boil over into violent rage that may spark a centuries-long rivalry. Therefore, in order to mate, a dragon must navigate an incredibly complicated maze of traditions and political manoeuvres designed to woo a partner without risking their offence and saving face should she get rejected. These traditions tend to vary wildly between dragon breeds, making mating between different kinds of dragons a challenge so perilous that it is virtually never attempted.

Regardless of the processes involved, mating normally results in only one of the two dragons getting pregnant and resultantly laying a clutch of eggs about the size of adult halflings with shells the colour of their parent’s scales. After an extended incubation under exacting conditions, the eggs hatch into wyrmlings.

Though different scholars measure differently, it is largely agreed that true dragons go through four or so stages of life. On hatching, a dragon is a wyrmling. Generally only big enough to look a human in the eye when reared up on her hind legs, these first years are when a dragon is at her most vulnerable. It is for this reason that most dragons protect their wyrmlings, though any wyrmling is capable of self-sufficiency if independence is thrust upon them.

Over five or so years, a wyrmling rapidly develops, growing to reach about the size of a lion or draft horse. At this size, a young dragon begins to seize her independence, striking out for a territory of her own and beginning to accumulate her hoard. Though not necessarily at the top of her local food chain, a young dragon is a formidable creature that should not be trifled with lightly. Still, this is the phase at which many dragons meet a violent end.

Should a dragon be one of the cunning or lucky ones, they may survive their first century. At this stage, no natural creature can challenge them. With the power to rival armies, a hoard of immense size, and the respect of her neighbours, this is when a dragon truly comes into her own, ready to seek mates, enact wide-ranging plans, and make her mark on history for centuries to come. As a dragon approaches her thousandth year, she becomes less an individual creature and more a natural force, her legend and actions reverberating across the world and into the planes beyond.

Men to Dragons

Men, like dragons, are undeniably sexual beings. As such, it is little surprise that many men are drawn to dragons, desiring not so much their gold or the glory of defeating one in battle as the legendary chance to have sex with one. Unfortunately, the desire men feel towards dragons is rarely reciprocated.

While dragons will willingly fuck women to sate their lust or further their goals, men tend to give dragons pause. While dragons rarely deny that a man has a natural sexual draw to him and is likely sexually talented, they also tend to feel that men have an underserved air of arrogance around them. In the minds of even good and otherwise reasonable dragons, a man’s sexual desires towards her suggest he considers himself her sexual superior, and that in offering that superior talent, he somehow demands mewling gratitude from her despite her superiority. This means that all female dragons, regardless of mental state, find men slightly offensive.

If a dragon is receptive to it, a man can try to overcome her offence by forming a positive relationship with her. However, all dragons remain guarded around men, and successfully seducing a dragon is often an even more titanic task than raping her would be. Of course, most dragons are vengeful towards men who dare to sexually violate them, especially if they become pregnant from it. However, a man has a degree of security from their draconic victim’s desire to save face. If a dragon’s rivals learn that she was defeated and raped by a mere man, it may be taken as a sign of her weakness, leading to attempts to attack or rob her while she is vulnerable. As such, dragons tend to keep their plans for vengeance against men subtle, striking only when they can do so without causing suspicion.

On occasion, a true dragon may lay an egg, which hatches into a male dragon. Indeed, male dragons seem to be born with a similar regularity to the male birthrate among humans, taking the lower population of dragons into consideration. Unfortunately, however, fate seems to work against male dragons. Like moths to a flame, agents that would see a young dragon die, particularly giants, dwarves, and dragons of opposing moral alignment, are drawn towards a draconic male, ready to do him in before he can reach his prime. In virtually all cases, a male dragon dies tragically, well before his hundredth year.

Sometimes, however, roughly once every four or five thousand years, fate smiles on a male dragon, allowing him to grow to adulthood and virtually take over his local area, in a reach wide enough to influence the entire world. Seemingly alternating between chromatic and metallic, a male dragon that makes it to adulthood unfailingly finds himself with uncontested power in the lands around his territory, fucking neighbouring dragons into submission and sending out hordes of half-dragon creatures born from a multispecies harem that consisted of the populous of whole kingdoms.

Chapter 79: Chromatic Dragons

Named for their boldly coloured scales, chromatic dragons are more often than not fearsome monsters of a wicked temperament. While not as fundamentally bound to evil as, say, a fiend, it is usually prudent to assume that a chromatic dragon is selfish, wrathful, and all too willing to kill as she pleases. The most common kinds of chromatic dragons, coloured black, blue, green, red, and white, are each given their own description in the following chapters. This chapter, however, aims to cover chromatic dragons in their entirety.

Destructive Tyrants

On observing the world and its myriad races, most chromatic dragons come to a similar conclusion: the notion of equality among intelligent creatures is not only blatantly false but laughably so. With the power and prestige of their draconic line, it is clear to a chromatic dragon that the only place worthy of her position is at the very top of the natural order. All other creatures thus exist only to serve the chromatic dragon’s whims.

Chromatic dragons prey on and consume nearly anything that exists in their territory—predator or prey, natural beast or monstrous creature. A chromatic dragon cares little for the risk of devastating her natural environment; if sufficient prey grows scarce, she can retreat into her lair and sleep for years, years in which the environment can recover. A chromatic dragon will also not think twice about consuming sapient prey unless they have something to offer her.

What a chromatic dragon wants from a person depends largely on the specific dragon in question. A red dragon may spare a shepherd only so that they may continue to plunder her flock, while a blue dragon may outright communicate with spies and assassins to have them do her will in dense cities. All chromatic dragons, however, love to have their egos stoked. Praise, obedience, and worship are some of the only manners of speaking that chromatic dragons are willing to hear from “lesser” creatures. Many chromatic dragons build up a cultish following of minions who bring her tithes, protect her lair from raiders, and otherwise enact her will.

For most chromatic dragons, the ultimate model of their draconic right to rule is manifested in Tiamat, the Goddess of Evil Dragonkind. Though she is sometimes depicted in human works as a ravishing, raven-haired sorceress, her true appearance is that of a five-headed dragon, each head being of a different chromatic dragon. As all chromatic dragons should be, Tiamat is covetous and cruel to the extreme, prideful of her power, and ready to unleash her devastating power at any slight. At the moment, Tiamat resides in Avernus, the first layer of the Nine Hells, both as a queen and a prisoner. Still, many agents seek to set her free in an event that will more likely than not be of apocalyptic proportions.

Unfettered Greed

From simple extortion to devastating and deadly aerial raids, some of the most egregious acts of evil a chromatic dragon performs are inspired by little more than a simple desire for wealth. Like all dragons, chromatic dragons desire items because they think they deserve them. To a chromatic dragon, a lesser being who has something she wants is little better than a thief who stole it from her. If the owner of the object doesn’t give their property up quickly, they are likely to receive a thief’s sentence: death.

It is from her hoard of treasure that a chromatic dragon gains much of her pride. If asked, most chromatic dragons will boast fiercely about the treasures under their possession, their histories, and what greatness their ownership of them proves about them. A chromatic dragon remembers her every treasure, every jewel, and every coin, and can thus recognise when even a single piece of her hoard is gone.

Chromatic dragons live in constant suspicion that others are plotting to steal from them. To avoid this, chromatic dragons build their lairs in places too dangerous for any but the most intrepid adventurers to venture to, such as the middle of a noxious swamp or a volcano’s active caldera. For those that dare trek to these places, the dragon’s lair becomes a maze of magical wards, lethal traps, and fanatical underlings, all before the dragon herself arrives to slay her aggressors.

Sex and Sexuality Among Chromatic Dragons

As filled as they are with greed and arrogance, chromatic dragons are also filled with lust. Amongst themselves, the risk of angering a partner to violence is particularly high, but individual chromatic dragons are also bold and prideful enough that attempts to mate still happen with fair regularity. Mating, egg incubation, and childcare strategies have a fairly diverse range among different breeds of chromatic dragon, but most chromatic dragon mothers are fiercely protective over their eggs and newly hatched wyrmlings.

When not mating with other dragons, chromatic dragons tend to fuck whatever is conveniently to hand, considering sex with non-draconic creatures to be a form of masturbation, even when they impregnate their partner with a half-dragon sire. These half-dragons may either be cast out and allowed to live their own odd lives or be retained by their draconic parent to serve as an empowered servant with a breath weapon. If they grow up outside of their dragon parent’s dictates, a chromatic half-dragon will not necessarily grow up to be evil but will likely possess personality traits typical of their draconic lineage, not least of all greed and arrogance.

Chromatic dragons don’t just fuck lesser creatures for physical pleasure or to produce useful underlings, however, but also to exert control. By forcing a woman to submit sexually to her through intimidation and make her birth half dragon offspring, or else simply overpower and rape her with greater draconic strength, a chromatic dragon proves beyond a doubt that she is her victim’s superior and that creature she managed to fuck is no less an object of property than any other bauble in her hoard.

Often, a chromatic dragon will choose to rape physically imposing creatures, giants, threatening monsters, and the like. Not only are the resultant half-dragon offspring more useful as servants, but the endeavour of overpowering the creature helps to prove the dragon’s strength. At the same time, just as a chromatic dragon may jealously covet a widely acclaimed work of art, well-known beauties such as princesses, high priestesses, and actresses also provoke a desire within her, desiring the bragging rights of despoiling that which so many dreamed of making love to.

Men to Chromatic Dragons

While filled with pent-up lust and sexual fury, nothing can make a chromatic dragon go cold faster than the presence of a man. Though some breeds may hide it well, the reflexive offence all female dragons feel when exposed to a man sparks in chromatic dragons an inconsolable rage that a man dares to even be alive. Trying to convince a chromatic dragon that a man is not planning to try and rape her and that it is only because of her intimidating stature that he refrains is about as easy as persuading the sun not to set or the wind not to blow. To be fair, a chromatic dragon is not always wrong.

Despite the renowned cruelty and danger that a chromatic dragon presents, few men can deny their beauty and raw sexual appeal. Though most men are sensible enough to recognise that trying to defeat or woo an adult chromatic dragon is likely a suicide mission, this does not keep them from dreaming of one day accomplishing the improbable and getting to fuck her.

Some men see this accomplishment as some form of vengeance, punishing the monster for all her misdeeds. Others, of a more naïve or simply deluded state, hope they can somehow fuck morality into the dragon, somehow shattering her draconic ego through sexual talent alone to perhaps tame her. Never in accurately recorded history has either plan ever borne fruit, though men who have successfully fucked chromatic dragons and lived are the stuff of legends.

With an understandable hatred of these “heroes” and the men who aspire to be like them, chromatic dragons are nothing but hostile towards men as a whole. Most chromatic dragons will seek to kill a man swiftly on sight. Most chromatic dragons are also fairly pragmatic, however, so if their plans can benefit from a living plan, she will make use of him, so long as doing so doesn’t involve her having to fuck him. Eventually, however, any man who finds himself in a chromatic dragon’s clutches must either escape or die.

Male chromatic dragons are beings completely unfettered by the cares of others in their ambition for wealth, power, and sexual gratification. Those chromatic dragon males who escaped the curse of foreshortened lives went on to exert extreme influence on the world around them. Any female dragon in a male chromatic’s astounding reach is mauled into submission, left with the choice to become his permanent mate or die. At the same time, the male chromatic dragon would throw his weight around, ravaging the domains of other sentient creatures with the power of him and his submissive mates, until they sent him tribute to gold and beautiful, fertile women to serve as pleasure slaves in a harem of uncountable size, producing an army of fearsome half-dragon offspring.

Chapter 80: Black Dragon

Notes:

WARNING: The later parts of this chapter could be seen as transphobic. I, the actual writer of this fic, am not transphobic and advise against you taking any lessons on the nature of gender and the relationships between genders in the real world from my fictional story. Bardson is a product of his world and the way I write as him is supposed to reflect that.

In rancid, stagnant pools and vast swamps of reeking mud, black dragons seek out territories within such rotten domains. Slithering serpent-like through the turbid water of her domain, a black dragon’s ebon scales hide her in the darkness of the murk. When a black dragon does reveal herself, her swept-forward horns and tightly drawn hide give her a skeletal appearance that strikes fear into the hearts of many, which is just how most black dragons like it.

Like all true dragons, black dragons are incredibly long-lived creatures. As such, the average black dragon will see the births and deaths of lesser creatures, the rise and fall of kingdoms, and heroes gaining great renown before collapsing into obscurity. For all these diminishments, a black dragon grows only stronger. This juxtaposition between her own seemingly eternal prosperity and the apparent inevitability of failure in all other lives brings her no end of mirth. When a lesser creature or culture refuses to take the long path of decline, a black dragon has no qualms about helping it along, watching it degrade under her malicious plans and her corrosive acid breath.

Sadistic Predators

All chromatic dragons are, on the whole, self-centred and uncaring of the plight of lesser creatures. Black dragons, however, stand out among the others for how outright sadistic and cruel they can be. For the most part, a black dragon’s diet will consist of huge quantities of fish. When she does hunt bigger game, however, she uses strategies intentionally made to draw out her victim’s suffering. While fleeing a black dragon, prey is often chased through sucking mud or toyed with for hours, given multiple chances for respite or escape that end up being mere deception on the dragon’s part.

Thanks to her sadistic streak, a black dragon usually prefers intelligent prey, for sapient creatures can be tormented in a great many additional ways. If a black dragon learns her victims name, she will call them out by it. Any additional information can be bent into great psychological mazes that make the dragon appear to be omniscient and in perfect control of the situation. Lying as easily as she breathes, a black dragon may persuade the most easily frightened in a group of prey to turn on their companions under false assurances they will be spared, only to kill everyone when trust has been completely destroyed. Once her prey is killed, a black dragon rarely consumes it right away, leaving them in anoxic, germ ridden pools to pickle for a few days. Not only does this make the flavour more to the dragon’s liking, but the sight and smell of these pools also crushes the spirits of any visitors to her territory.

Not all black dragons are completely murderous, however. Many black dragons keep minions attained from the tribes of native swamp dwellers like bullywugs, kobolds, and lizardfolk. A black dragon judges her minions based on how entertaining they are rather than their practical use. A servant who bores a black dragon will, inevitably, be killed and consumed. Over years and generations, a black dragon therefore curates her minions into some of the most sadistically vile instances of their kind. The servants of black dragons are rarely particularly crafty or intelligent, instead enacting their mistress’ will by being abhorrently predisposed to violence and cruelty. Almost without care for their own wellbeing, a black dragon’s minions throw themselves into battle with no intention beyond causing the most pain and bloodshed possible, much to their mistress’ enjoyment.

Envious Survivors

While cruelty provides a black dragon with much short-term delight, long-term satisfaction comes by virtue of her own fortitude. A black dragon knows how durable she is. In all likelihood, a black dragon will live for centuries, uncontested by any creature in her domain, growing stronger with every passing day. Other creatures, however, seem to wither in mere decades, their kingdoms collapsing well within a draconic lifetime. For a black dragon, there is little that pleases her more than seeing the weak wither while she thrives.

For maximum enjoyment, black dragons tend to keep reminders of what has been lost close to them. whenever possible in their preferred marshy environ, black dragons prefer to build their lairs in the ruins of historically important structures, long-felled castles once thought unassailable, temples whose deities seemingly abandoned them, and monuments that were supposed to stand the test of time. In her hoard, a black dragon collects coins and relics from bygone kingdoms, weapons held by long-forgotten heroes, and texts that speak of cultures no mortal now lives to remember. A black dragon recalls the origin of her every treasure—what fallen kingdom or dead person she snatched it from. Every treasure is not only a testament to her greatness, but something, be it an individual, a culture, or an institution, that she outlived.

Just as little brings a black dragon more pleasure than seeing lesser creatures fall, there are few things more infuriating to a black dragon than seeing the weak prosper. When a black dragon learns of a nearby kingdom or the like that is doing slightly too well at standing the test of time, she is far from against having a claw in its downfall. Sometimes, a black dragon may try to tear the institution apart by encouraging internal strife by bending certain individuals to her own cruel, nihilistic mindset.

More often, however, a black dragon simply amasses her savage troops and attacks, tearing down whatever edifice stands against her and snuffing out every life she can. Usually, however, a black dragon leaves some of her victims alive in the shells of their former homes, ensuring they live out the rest of their pathetic lives in hollow ennui. A black dragon will employ almost any tactic to lay her enemies low, but she prefers to target the weak and helpless first since a quick kill boosts her confidence and terrifies her remaining foes. Though a brutal bully in combat, a black dragon is loathe to partake in anything even resembling a fair fight. After all, it is from her capability to outlive all others, by any means necessary, that a black dragon draws her pride.

Sex and Sexuality Among Black Dragons

Like many chromatic dragons, black dragons are fairly solitary creatures who, for the most part, react violently to others of their kind encroaching on their territory. Still, all this violence doesn’t get completely in the way of reproduction, especially since black dragons have a very healthy connection to their natural lust. When seeking a mating companion, there are essentially two opposing features that black dragons find attractive. On the one hand, black dragons like their mates to be powerful with particularly rich hoards. On the other hand, a black dragon likes to be obeyed by others.

While usually incredibly reticent to submit to anyone, for black dragons who are sufficiently charmed by stories of another’s wealth and ferocity in battle, her lust may prompt her to act against her normal countenance. As such, famously powerful, well-established black dragons, whose legend is spread by intentionally spared survivors, are often visited by younger suitors who endeavour to gain their approval. A dominant black dragon usually weeds out her desirable mates by setting them tasks to fulfil. These tasks usually serve little purpose outside of being simple exercises in obedience and sadistic entertainment. Typical tasks consist of engaging in brutal combat with other prospective mates or hunting down particular creatures.

When a prospective mate is successful, the dominant black dragon will concede to impregnate them. Even though it is the lesser of the two dragons that gets pregnant, it is typically the dominant dragon that will take care of the eggs. In most cases, a black dragon’s lust-induced subservience wears off only a few hours after her eggs are laid, usually in nests dug within her mate’s territory. With no maternal instincts to speak of, the mother black dragon abandons her clutch to return to her territory, often disgusted with herself for letting her sexual desires get the better of her. This leaves the egg’s patter to take care of them.

Black dragon eggs can only develop within pools of strong acid, a substance that black dragons readily expel as a breath weapon. Incubating in pools of highly corrosive fluid provides a black dragon’s eggs with a great deal of protection. On top of this defence, the eggs’ patter watches over them, tearing anything that dares to threaten the nest. This protection continues for a while after hatching, with young black dragons residing in their patter’s territory for around forty years before heading off to find a territory of their own. Outside of fighting dangerous creatures for her young, however, black dragons tend to be callous towards their children, offering guidance in the form of brief and infrequent life lessons. When the choice is herself and her daughters, a black dragon will almost always put her own interests before her children’s, though any harm that befalls a wyrmling in a black dragon’s care will be avenged.

Outside of reproduction, black dragons are still fairly licentious creatures. Thanks to the unpleasant power dynamics involved in trying to sexually proposition other black dragons, most gain their sexual pleasure by fucking lesser creatures. While it is far from uncommon for a black dragon to constantly rape her minions to keep them in line, a black dragon also enjoys using sex to mentally devastate prisoners and hostages.

While black dragons kill most of the women they capture, some they keep alive as living records, particularly if they were people intrinsic to a society or venture’s continued perseverance, such as princesses, nobles, or public influencers. As news of their ambition’s failure is brought in by the dragon’s spies, the dragon herself sexually violates them.

Black dragons tend to produce relatively few half-dragons, not trusting empowered minions not to rebel. Those few half-dragons a black dragon makes on purpose tend to be either simple, empowered beasts like giant toads or crocodiles, or else the offspring of some high-class hostage, made to be a symbol of the dragon’s indelible mark on her society and her life.

Men to Black Dragons.

By their nature as mass breeders, men tend to create many legacies wherever they go. Even when a man finally dies, his children and grandchildren will likely spread far and wide, making his mark on the world all but unerasable. This infuriates black dragons, who know that the lineage and memory of a man can very easily outlive her own, despite his relative weakness compared to her power. The fact that a man may seek to spread this lineage within her only intensifies a black dragon’s hatred, making them some of the most misandrist of all dragons. How this man loathing is expressed tends to be expressed in one of two wildly different ways.

Most black dragons simply wish to destroy men in all their forms. Male animals in her territory are torn apart, their pieces left to fester where they lay. Any nearby settlement that harbours any positive opinion of manhood will likely be the first she destroys. Any treasures that depict men, such as artwork and coins, will likely be buried in a deep vault, where the dragon can still claim ownership of the valuables without having to look at them.

Such a black dragon also endeavours to make her territory and the surrounding lands as hostile to men as possible. Traps made specifically to take advantage of sexual attraction are common, such as lurid statues coated with acid and beautiful, seductive false prisoners who are in fact sociopathic assassins, in the dragons employ. As well as pruning male positive individuals from her surroundings, such a black dragon also strongly influences her minions, driving the idea of man’s despicableness so deep into their minds that even spotting a man is likely to send any one of them into an overwhelming murderous rage. The dragon herself experiences similar rage upon encountering a man, dropping any usual pretence as she is torn between giving her male visitor instant annihilation and a slow, torturous death.

A smaller but still notable subset of black dragons exhibits a more eccentric coping mechanism. Unable to accept that they are part of a less virile class of life, these black dragons declare themselves to be male. Whether this is performative or a genuine delusion is hard to say, but these black dragons give themselves traditionally masculine names and insist on male pronouns. While such a black dragon cannot hide her breasts or grow a cock, they try to cement their masculinity by raping minions and prisoners with large false phalluses, normally carved from small trees or boulders and shaped to be painful to be penetrated upon. These black dragons also tend to have more half-dragon offspring to show off their virility. In the face of a real man, these black dragons are equally murderous as straight-forward misandrists of their kind. Outwardly, a false male black dragon cites competition for females as the reason for her aggression; inwardly, she is terrified of a real man tearing her sham apart.

Through intimidation or plain exaggerated word of mouth, many of these fake males are recorded by historians as if they were real. As such, accounts of real male black dragons are hard to locate. The last male black dragon who was probably real was most likely Monarg the Ravager. Reports of his reign are slick with blood. Before even reaching adulthood, Monarg had broken into several elven kingdoms unseen, kidnapped their rulers, and raped them into insanity. When he released his broken victims, they created enough discord to tear their cultures apart. When Monarg came with his army of lizardfolk, including his own acid-spitting half-dragon daughters, there was almost no resistance.

From that day until his death centuries later, Monarg ruled as a cruel tyrant. It is said he had no fondness for any of his subjects; he was just as likely to devour a loyal concubine as a prisoner. He was said to take particular pleasure in raping black dragons who pretended to be of his gender. Even his patter, the dragon who had guarded and supported him against the odds, was apparently chained within a castle, forced to birth him more wyrmlings who could serve. Though long dead, Monarg the Ravager still influences the world to this day. Monarg’s Bayou, the swamp that sits at the core of what was once his kingdom, is still home to degenerate, almost lizard-like elves. Devoid of the benevolence and eloquence elves are known for, the Daughters of the Ravager ply the swamp on narrow boats and perform grim rituals to their ancient father come nightfall.

Chapter 81: Blue Dragon

Like a jewel buffeted to a shine by the sands of her desert home, a blue dragon shines iridescently. With glossy scales that range from a pale sky blue to an almost purple depth of tone, a blue dragon can just as easily cut a startling figure in the desert sands as disappear into the near cloudless sky above. Around a blue dragon’s comparatively squat head are an array of expressive features, from her distinctive nose horn and earlike fins to a subtle dexterity in her eyes and lips.

Thanks to this collection of features, a blue dragon enjoys a great degree of facial variance. While a blue dragon can very easily manifest a look of reptilian impassivity, she can just as easily smile with warmth that puts a fearful traveller at ease or grimace with such implied fury that it pins a warrior’s soul. These expressions are, however, only learned behaviours. Not in any way tied to a blue dragon’s true emotions, a blue dragon adopts these facial poses to aid in communication with or, more often, deception of humanoids when she meets them. Giving them a smile as if they were old friends, a blue dragon can, in the next second, fire a bolt of her tempestuous lightning breath, remorselessly obliterating her target.

Burrowing Lair Builders

Though her home domain, being vast deserts, scorching badlands, or barren coastlines, fails to provide much in the way of food or shelter, a blue dragon is a consummate survivor who owes a large part of her survival to one particular suite of adaptations. With large, shovel-like foreclaws and a strong, squat body, blue dragons are some of the best dragons in existence when it comes to digging. In looser substrates like sand, a blue dragon can burrow faster than most people can run.

While many dragons prefer to make their lairs in existing structures like caves or ruins, a blue dragon in the shifting sands of the desert is well equipped to make her own lair. Digging away with her claws, the blue dragon keeps the unstable sand from collapsing in on her by virtue of her lightning breath, zapping the sand into beautiful crystalline walls of glass. As well as its beauty, the fragility of glass also plays to a blue dragon’s advantage. If a blue dragon’s lair is invaded, a strategic strike to a ceiling or wall can cause a cave in from which she can easily burrow out, leaving the thieves to suffocate under the sand. Many blue dragons also create sinkholes in this way, which thieves can be baited into falling into with only a few minor trinkets. A blue dragon's favoured treasures, gold and glittering gems, are more often buried underneath the lair, hidden under the sand, where she can dig them up and adore them at will.

A blue dragon can also use her digging prowess to find food. While a blue dragon will eat nearly anything in lean times, including roots and cacti, she is a carnivore at heart with a taste for herd animals like camels, antelope, and wild horses. When the herds approach, a blue dragon buries herself in the sand with only her horn resting above the surface. While she remains still in this way, a blue dragon’s horn can resemble a simple outcropping of rock. In this position, a blue dragon’s exceptional senses give her an almost perfect view of what is happening around her. When prey gets close, the dragon springs out of the sand, snapping her jaws around one nearby or firing off her breath weapon to fry a handful.

Blue dragons use similar tactics to catch travelling merchants and herders off guard. However, since blue dragons base a lot of their ego off of their intelligence, they find the practise of consuming intelligent beings to be self-denigrating unless they are particularly hungry. Blue dragons are also usually smart enough to see the inefficiency of outright robbery. Instead, blue dragons tend to offer something slightly more mutually beneficial. For a sizable tribute of food or treasure, a blue dragon will not only spare a traveller through her territory their life, but will also do them the service of securing their future travels by keeping her home range free of brigands, predators, and other, less reasonable, monsters. Though the price is often onerous, many have adapted to tolerate or even profit from life under a blue dragon’s rule.

Vain Employers

Like all dragons, blue dragons are incredibly proud of their power. However, a blue dragon’s ego runs deeper than that. As well as power, blue dragons also take pride in their intelligence. Blue dragons hungrily seek out knowledge, studying anything from tactics to biology to history. Along with more traditional treasures, a blue dragon’s hoard will house a colossal set of writings, artifacts, and samples tied to her chosen interest. Some blue dragons even pick up wizardry or tap into their natural magic as sorcery to show their great power.

As well as intelligence, blue dragons also take great pride in their beauty. Even to those not normally attracted to dragons, there is something undeniably charming about a blue dragon, be it her poise, figure, or even her animal magnetism. Though confident in their natural graces, blue dragons tend to accentuate their attraction through the use of perfumes and unguents, along with jewellery and accessories made to suit a dragon’s size. To commemorate her beauty, a blue dragon commissions artists to record her depictions in deed and appearance through paintings, statues, poetry, and other art.

Unlike with other dragons, working with a blue dragon often pays well, so long as the dragon considers the services rendered in exchange to be more valuable. As well as feeding her ego, blue dragons also hire individuals to aid in their studies or advance their plans, such as mages, scholars, mercenary companies, and assassins.

There is, however, a dark side to living in a blue dragon’s service. Regardless of her niceties or her words, a blue dragon cares only for herself and other dragons, with humanoids and other “lesser creatures” being nothing more than tools. While obedience and talent can be rewarded, a blue dragon has few qualms about slaying anyone who shows disobedience or incompetence under her employ.

A blue dragon’s vanity can also make her frighteningly easy to offend. A blue dragon does not brook any insinuation of her being incapable, unpopular, or incorrect. It takes only a little pressure for a blue dragon to snap, entering a murderous, animalistic rage. As intolerant as she is of it being suggested in herself, a blue dragon also has vanishingly little acceptance for ugliness or stupidity in others. This can prompt blue dragons to plot unjustified crusades against creatures that fail to meet her standards within her territory.

While many of the victims of a blue dragon’s unprovoked genocide are creatures most societies care little about, like dull ogres and brutish orcs, a blue dragon often instigates their elimination by manipulating nearby creatures into declaring war on them, foisting the cost of aggression onto groups like humans. When the most overt offenders of ugliness and stupidity are erased, a blue dragon is rarely satisfied, instead becoming more decerning, targeting people like dwarves for their unwillingness to display sexual alure and halflings for their satisfaction with simple, rustic lives.

Sex and Sexuality Among Blue Dragons

For many chromatic dragons, their arrogance and territoriality make it almost impossible for them to truly love any dragon besides themselves. Blue dragons, however, are different. While a blue dragon is most impressed by her own knowledge and beauty, she is very capable of seeing those traits in another dragon and admitting that she is somewhat impressed. When a blue dragon is significantly impressed, often thanks to having similar interests in study or plans, she may carefully approach another blue dragon with the prospect of mating.

To begin with, the bond between two blue dragons considering the act of reproduction is a lot like a contract; the dragons agree to meet at set dates to study collaboratively, hunt cooperatively, exchange artworks of similar value, or do some other prearranged activity. As time goes on and the pair becomes more certain of their compatibility, they act in an increasingly loving way, creating a bond that can last a lifetime.

Though the bond between two blue dragons in love is incredibly powerful, it does struggle to overcome either dragon’s natural territoriality. As such, blue dragons, no matter how in love, tend to live miles apart, keeping their territories, lairs, and hoards separate. Magic items or loyal spellcasters that can facilitate long-distance communication are eagerly sought by these lovers, not only to stay in contact but also to organise their time when they are together.

As well as all manner of other cooperative and romantic activities, blue dragons spend a lot of their time in person having sex with their beloved. Most of the time this sex is merely for pleasure, for reproducing usually requires several years of much closer collaboration between the two. Which blue dragon ends up getting pregnant is typically more than just the stronger of the two deciding, it is usually a more diplomatic affair. While producing and laying eggs comes with a greater energetic burden and an expectation of more time being given up to the young’s care, childcare is a two parent task among blue dragons, carried out mostly in the mother’s lair, thus forcing the patter to leave her lair and her treasure relatively unattended for longer stretches of time.

Blue dragon eggs must be buried in sand in order to develop. What’s more, healthy development requires the sand’s temperature to waver between warmth and near freezing on a daily cycle. This is conveniently how deserts normally function with the cycle of day and night, but it does mean that a blue dragon must bury her eggs close to her lair's entrance as opposed to their more secure depths. The eggs' main defence is generally how well hidden they are under the sand and that their hiding spot is watched over by two fiercely protective adult dragons.

When they hatch, digging themselves out of the sand, blue dragon wyrmlings are collected by their parents and protected within their mother’s lair. Though the majority of childcare is done by the mother, both parents contribute significant amounts of time and energy to not only their young’s protection and survival but also their education. A blue dragon introduces her daughter to a great many topics, from the immediately useful, like how to hunt, how to fight, and how to contort one's face to make humanoids believe you feel a certain way, to the purely academic, normally the fundamentals of science, history, and magical theory, with a slightly closer look at the parents’ own specialisms.

For chromatic dragons, blue dragons take care of their offspring for a very long time and have a strong sense of family and familial loyalty. In their juvenile years, blue dragons perform minor roles to aid their parents’ schemes and call on siblings for aid against serious threats. Even in her adulthood, a blue dragon will almost always have relatives whom she can call on for occasional aid or advice.

When not raising wyrmlings, a blue dragon will spend a lot of time away from her mate. Surprisingly, however, blue dragons only occasionally exert their lust upon their servants. This isn’t out of loyalty to their mate; however, most blue dragons consider fucking a non-draconic woman to be no more infidelity than masturbating. Instead, it appears to be because blue dragons get far more pleasure out of being sexually desired than actually fucking a lesser creature.

Often, when interacting directly with non-dragons, a blue dragon may act subtly flirtatious, whether the individual is one of her servants, a stranger, or even an enemy. A blue dragon is cunning with her flirtations, targeting those who are desperate for recognition or affection, implying that she secretly craves their love while being subtle enough to deny it to others. If a blue dragon’s games of seduction are successful, she will eventually end up with multiple individuals wrapped around her fingers, each believing themselves to be the one singular individual capable of unlocking the deepest recesses of her heart. In truth, a blue dragon typically doesn’t care at all about her so-called lovers any further than she can use their affections to make them do her bidding. Ultimately, very few of these individuals will even earn the right to have sex with her.

One exception to this prudence comes when a blue dragon wants to make half-dragons. Blue dragons are in fact the most frequent creators of half-dragons as a whole. Blue dragons don’t just mate with non-dragons for the sake of it, however. A blue dragon creates half-dragons to serve specific purposes, normally as advanced warriors who have the benefit of a blue dragon’s breath and fortitude. As such, blue dragons seek to ensure their half-dragon offspring’s loyalty, ensuring swift action is taken to have them indoctrinated to her cause, educated, and trained to perform the function she desires before they grow strong or cunning enough to have ideas of their own. To get a step ahead on the process of indoctrination, blue dragons prefer to impregnate warriors of cultures that already have a strong caste system and loyalty to one’s superiors. Common mates include kobolds, hobgoblins, and drow.

Men to Blue Dragons

On first meeting, a man may believe that blue dragons are free of the draconic hatred for men. As long as a man seems respectful and isn’t actively interfering with her activities, a blue dragon will most likely leave a man be or treat him with as much mercy as a woman in his position could expect to receive. Some may even consider a blue dragon to be reasonable. All this civility, however, is only surface-level.

Blue dragons do find men offensive. Every little act of romance or sexuality a man performs in a blue dragon's presence will irk her somewhat. Generally, a blue dragon can suppress these emotions, for a time at least, letting her be her normal, charismatic self despite the man’s gender, and, if in combat, she can ignore her impulse to strike the man down first in favour of more tactically wise actions. A blue dragon may even flirt with a man, taking advantage of his natural sexuality to manipulate him into acting in her interest.

Even when at peace with a blue dragon, however, she is a deadly powder keg with an indeterminably long fuse when a man is involved. Every second a man is in her presence, he tries a blue dragon’s patience. It takes only one comment too familiar or one romantic notion too many for a blue dragon to snap, instantly springing to destroy the male aggravation. Depending on how useful a man is to her alive, a blue dragon may seek to remove herself from the situation to destress, but if she does end up killing a man in frustration, she almost always blames him rather than her own lack of self-control.

Some men, seeing a blue dragon’s situational tolerance for them, think that there must be a way to overcome the inbuilt dislike dragons have for men and win her true sexual attraction. This is, of course, easier said than done. Blue dragons are notoriously dishonest about their emotions, and directly trying to have sex with her is usually more than enough to cross the boundary between a blue dragon enduring a man’s antics and murdering him. Some men think that if they can artfully navigate the social minefield of a blue dragon’s emotions and desires, they will reach a point where her affection for him will outweigh her distrust, and she will thus be glad to fuck him.

This happy medium, if it even exists, has yet to be found. Many men have died seeking out a blue dragon’s heart. Blue dragons, for their part, actually tend to state that overcoming their distain for men is very possible if only other races would produce men as great as the males of their own kind. When asked for a specific example of their ideal man, virtually all blue dragons point to Aranbold Skyscale.

Aranbold Skyscale was a male blue dragon who epitomised both masculine sexual prowess and his kind’s political genius. Starting off with the relatively humble life of charging merchants for protection from bandits, he eventually learned of a nearby dwarven stronghold whose priestesses had received visions of him and were planning to destroy him before he could drive their realm into a kingdom of rape and debauchery. In response, Aranbold Skyscale did not panic. Instead, he turned to the merchants that he had been protecting for coin, warning them of an approaching invasion. To better protect them, Aranbold invited them to settle around his chosen lair. At the same time, he pacified the raiding bands of hobgoblins that roamed the mountains on the fringe of his territory, recruiting them as an army under his command. Therefore, when the dwarves came to exterminate the dragon, they were faced with an army of humans, hobgoblins, and the half-dragon children Aranbold had bred with them, among which were an array of draconic sorcerers. At the price of many dwarven, human, and hobgoblin lives, Aranbold held off his own demise for decades, decades in which he grew strong enough to lead his forces in a counteroffensive against the dwarven stronghold.

Defying fate’s distain for male dragons, the fortress was broken. Many dwarves were killed; others fled, while others were still enslaved, bound in lives of sexual exploitation and forced breeding for their assault on him. In the depths of the dwarven stronghold, Aranbold made his lair, and atop it, a city was built that bore his name. The rest of his life was one of such masterful political manoeuvring among humanoids that many historians wrongly depict Aranbold Skyscale as a human. During his adult life, the entire south-eastern reach of Nymphona’s main continent became the Anboldic Empire, a powerhouse that lasted centuries after its creator’s death. Within his city, merchants grew powerful, and magic reached heights it has yet to reach again. Slave markets made oceans of gold from the sale of sentient life, and Aranbold Skyscale took generous portions of both commodities. Some accounts state that Aranbold’s slave harem outnumbered the city’s freewomen and their slaves combined. When the dragon passed, even freewomen and visitors were expected to strip and present themselves to him, accepting him out of gratitude for saving their ancestors from the dwarven invasion he instigated in the first place. Though Aranbold Skyscale is long dead and his empire is gone, Aranbold, the city that bears his name, still stands strong. Though it has been thousands of years, the dragon’s influence on his city is still strong in every corner of Aranbold. Draconic iconography stands atop ruined dwarven stone, hobgoblin militias guard the streets, the people of Aranbold respect the mighty and cunning above the kind and good, and wealth is everything. In part, Aranbold is still ruled by its founder’s bloodline, a council of draconic sorcerers who inherit their power through their descent from Aranbold Skyscale’s favoured human concubines.

Chapter 82: Green Dragon

Sleek and long-limbed, a green dragon can just as easily walk the underbrush of her forest or jungle home as swim its river deltas or soar atop the canopy. A green dragon’s scales range from the colour of new growth to a deep, almost black, evergreen tone. As such, a green dragon can go almost invisibly through the foliage of her home, no matter her size. A green dragon thus only shows herself when she fully intends to.

Like the subtlety of her approach, a green dragon’s profile is not defined by horns or spikes but by a majestic frill running from her head, down her long neck, and to her back. One should not mistake a green dragon for being all show, however, nor should they ignore the dangers a green dragon presents beyond her physical prowess. A wise adventurer knows that the most poisonous thing to come from a green dragon’s mouth is suffocating toxic gas, but the words off of her forked tongue.

Forest Despots

Though she herself is hard to spot, the signs that a green dragon has established herself within a stretch of forest are clear to those who know where to look. Plants and fungi grow at a much greater density than could normally be afforded, invigorated by the dragon’s power. In exchange for this empowerment, plants seem to somewhat obey a resident green dragon’s desires, covering her tracks, bending out of her way as she passes, and growing dense and thorny around places the dragon wants intruders to leave alone, most notably her lair. The lair of a green dragon tends to be a cave or ruin, hidden away by barriers the dragon herself can easily pass, such as dense thickets and crashing waterfalls. Adept swimmers, some green dragons keep their lair hidden under a lake or similar water body.

Despite her skill in the water, most green dragons prefer red meat to fish. Thanks to this preference and a voracious appetite, larger animals like deer and boar are notably absent near her home, forcing her to hunt further afield as her preferred prey learns to avoid the lands immediately within her lair’s vicinity. What meat a green dragon does not immediately consume goes untouched by scavengers. Knowing by smell that the dragon’s venomous bite has rendered her kill lethally tainted, even flies will refuse to lay their eggs upon it. When it becomes available, a green dragon will not turn her nose up at intelligent creatures; indeed, many green dragons are especially fond of the flesh of elves. Only creatures too small to be worth eating are spared the green dragon’s predation—birds and rodents mostly. Within a green dragon’s territory, these little creatures take on a strangely malign intelligence, watching for intruders and potential prey to report them to their draconic mistress. With this network of spies and a keen intellect, nothing happens in a green dragon’s territory without her knowing.

Cruel Corruptors

With their vast information network, green dragons collect huge amounts of information about their surroundings, including the daily lives of nearby people and visitors, down to the most intimate detail. While a green dragon who discovers treasure by this method will almost certainly capitalise on her discovery, she primarily uses this knowledge to spread misery and evil. When a green dragon notices an exploitable flaw in a good person, they attempt to subtly use this flaw to bend that individual towards evil. When she has a choice between targets, she will usually choose the most influential, corrupting acclaimed heroes, respected teachers, and persuasive bards, knowing that their influence will lead others towards evil in turn.

Though perfectly willing to work through loyal intermediaries, past targets, and the like, a green dragon is adept at manipulating others when speaking in person. In an instant, a green dragon can switch between fearsome intimidation and honey sweetness, whispering whatever she knows will bend her quarry to her will. Often, before appearing, the dragon will use the foliage of her forest home to separate her target from their allies, either seeking to corrupt members individually or else simply slaughtering more principled intruders out of her preferred target’s sight.

A green dragon does not collect servants in this way with specific goals in mind as other dragons, such as blue dragons, do. For a green dragon, the achievement of subverting the designs of goodness by bending its proponents to her way of thinking is a prize in and of itself. If a task involving her new servant’s skills comes around, all the better. For a green dragon, her servants are her treasures, each one evidence of a victory against morality.

Of course, people rarely live long enough to be permanent additions to her hoard, not only because of their less than draconic lifespans but also because of a green dragon’s habit of consuming any servant whose loyalty or efficiency falters. As such, along with the normal coins and gems (particularly emeralds), green dragons also tend to hoard mementos from past servants, such as handcrafted furnishings, artistic depictions of them, signature weapons, literature, and musical instruments. With these items, a green dragon remembers all the lives she turned towards evil.

Sex and Sexuality Among Green Dragons

For all their esteemed social graces when manipulating other species, it is shocking to witness green dragons interact with one another. Knowing others of her kind to be wise to her deceptions, a green dragon dispenses with any attempt at being charismatic or even pleasant. When meeting, green dragons are loud, crass, direct, and downright rude. They are no less so when seeking a mate.

When a green dragon wishes to reproduce, she seeks out another of her kind, preferably one close to her age but weaker, and demands their assistance. This is rarely accepted out of hand, and a fearsome argument will ensue. In amongst the bickering and throwing of the foulest abuse the draconic language has to offer, a contract is laid out. Eventually, after several days of foul words, if the assaulted party doesn’t gather the strength and frustration needed to chase the aggressor out with violence, an agreement is reached, and the dragons mate.

Once mated, a sudden and frankly disturbing transformation takes place. While the pair still clearly dislike each other, the overt verbal abuse stops for the period of time it takes for the eggs to hatch and the wyrmlings to become independent, typically around six years. During this period, the dragons are cooperative, with the original abuser tending to be the one who gets pregnant, with the abused apparently willing to spend much of her time in the abuser’s territory to help guard and raise the offspring.

In order to develop, green dragon eggs need the warmth and nutrients of decomposing vegetation. As such, a green dragon’s nest is essentially a compost heap guarded by two highly protective adult dragons. Some rumours suggest that the compost made in a green dragon nest is some of the richest in the world. True or not, it is likely not worth collecting.

On hatching, green dragon wyrmlings begin to learn the art of deception and manipulation immediately by attempting to build a hierarchy of manipulation among each other. For efficiency’s sake, the parents tend to concentrate much of their vastly superior manipulative skills on the wyrmling that ends up dominant. Still, green dragon parents do care about all their wyrmlings and will go to great lengths to protect them. When a young green dragon is large enough to reliably bring down her own prey, she is expected to leave. Though she may occasionally return for guidance from her parents until adulthood, she is for the most part alone from this point onwards.

Green dragons tend not to produce many half-dragons or have that much sex outside of reproduction. Still, they may fuck one or two women as a sign of dominance or because they know the woman is widely desired and want to feel superior to her hopeless suitors.

Men to Green Dragons

Knowing green dragons as the kind of chromatic dragon most given to talk as opposed to outright violence, some foolish men believe that they have a chance at talking things out with a green dragon, getting past her natural draconic bias against men and seducing her by his true merits. Wiser men know that it is when a green dragon speaks that she is at her most astoundingly dangerous. Like most chromatic dragons, green dragons despise men for their very existence. While she doesn’t care about their wellbeing, it frustrates a green dragon to see other creatures treat men with favour. As such, a green dragon takes a chance encounter with a man to turn other female beings around to her way of thinking.

On encountering a man, a green dragon often seems friendly or even flirtatious, even as she seethes with hatred on the inside. Subtly, she will try to lead the conversation she has with a man to a point where he suggests having sex with her. The green dragon will politely decline, citing any one of a number of reasons, but will direct the man to individuals she believes will be more interested, inviting him to come back for more guidance after. The first few hints are normally accurate, but eventually, the dragon stops giving the names of women who want to have sex with a man but those of villains who deserve punishment by a man’s cock.

As time goes on, the reasons for rape become more and more tenuous until the dragon stops giving any reasons at all. At this point, a man who has fallen into the dragon's trap has become a brutal rapist who is hated and feared throughout the dragon’s territory. With the loss of any willing companionship besides the dragon, the man becomes reliant on her, blindly heading off to rape anyone she points out. This relationship usually ends when the man tries to rape the dragon, and she kills him without a second thought.

While female green dragons work to have men as widely hated as possible, male green dragons try to be beloved. The last male green dragon to reach adulthood lived long in the past, before humans even developed iron tools. As such, he is now known only by the divine name given to him by the Yuan-ti, Xoxoktitepolli.

In his youth, priestesses of Dendar the Night Serpent, the Yuan-ti’s principal goddess, received visions of destruction centred around a male dragon on a large island chain, nowadays called the Serpent Archipelago. As such, scouts were sent to settle the island and destroy its male inhabitant. However, the young dragon managed to find the weak links in the hunting party—those Yuan-ti who doubted Dendar’s will and could most easily succumb to lust. As such, the Yuan-ti who were sent to destroy him quickly became the first members of his cult. As supply ships and reinforcements were captured and indoctrinated, this cult grew, and, in a little over a century, the cult of Xoxoktitepolli had grown into a faith large enough to rival the worship of the Night Serpent.

Just as the priestesses had foretold, the disruption caused by Xoxoktitepolli’s faithful shook and ultimately weakened the Yuan-ti, leading to simultaneous civil wars and slave revolts that cast the race into the shadows and gave rise to new empires. Around the Serpent Archipelago, however, the Yuan-ti fared surprisingly well, playing their rivals off of each other. In the jungle's center, temples were erected, the greatest of which served as Xoxoktitepolli’s principal lair. Into this great pyramid flooded loot from miriad raids, along with slaves to serve the god’s lust and bear his divine, venom-spewing children.

Though some cults to him still exist, Xoxoktitepolli’s main faith largely collapsed with his death. Still, the Serpent Archipelago remains one of the few places where Yuan-ti remain openly dominant, thanks in large part to a cadre of seemingly immortal, poison-breathing snakefolk identified by their father’s impressive frill.

Chapter 83: Red Dragon

When the cry of "Dragon!" erupts from a watchtower and the panic sets in, it is the image of a red dragon that sears itself into the minds of most people, burning away their sense of hope. With swept-back horns, smoke rising from her nostrils, and bright crimson scales, a red dragon can be recognised almost anywhere, for she can be spotted almost anywhere. Though volcanoes and searing badlands are the most desirable territories, a red dragon will settle anywhere with mountains on which she can perch and look down upon her domain. A red dragon considers herself the mistress of all she lays her eyes upon, free to claim whatever she desires. Anything that denies her mastery will provoke rage within a red dragon, and she will not rest until she sees it burn.

Hights of Arrogance

Even more so than other dragons, red dragons believe wholeheartedly, not just in the superiority of dragons, but that among dragons, their own kind of dragon is the pinnacle of dragonkind. What is more, every red dragon knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is the exemplar of everything that makes a red dragon superior. As such, it is virtually impossible to convince a red dragon that she is anything less than the greatest being to ever exist.

Unlike other vain dragons, such as blue dragons, a red dragon doesn’t seek validation for what she knows to be true. Still, red dragons like praise and veneration and will typically acquire servants such as kobolds and human cultists to worship her and stroke her ego. The life of a red dragon’s sycophant is fraught with danger, for a red dragon is all too easily enraged to murderous effect. In this brutal regime, a red dragon often becomes the mistress of hordes of wicked raiders like orcs and goblinoids, who fawn over her and gift her heaps of their war spoils in exchange for their lives.

As well as service and praise, a red dragon’s servants also keep her abreast of current events. Though a red dragon likes to be knowledgeable in all recent affairs, she is most interested in the deeds of other red dragons, whom she considers to be her only true rivals. When she hears of another red dragon getting recognition for a horrifying act, a red dragon is usually compelled to try and outdo them, leading to a runaway chain of destruction as the local community of red dragons competes for respect and recognition.

A red dragon’s lair, usually a cave or vast dungeon, is not hidden away from the sight of would-be thieves. Instead, it is proudly festooned with trophies and iconography of its owner’s might and terrible deeds. To repel would-be invaders, a red dragon fills her lair with traps and loyal defenders, ranging from simple spiked pits and arrow slits manned by kobolds to pools of bubbling lava and wandering fire elementals, ripped from their native plane by a red dragon’s mere existence.

As well as servants, a red dragon desires food. As the undisputed mistress of all she surveys, a red dragon will consume pretty much any living thing that is not more valuable to her alive. This includes beasts of all kinds, a wide variety of monstrous creatures, and anyone who displeases her. When dealing with intelligent prey, a red dragon rarely eats them right away. Instead, she will seize the person and take them away to their lair. There, the prisoner will be boasted to for a time, the dragon impressing upon them all the things that make her so great. All the while, she also probes to see if her prisoner has anything more than meat to offer her, such as service or ransom money. If not, they will be consumed.

Depths of Greed

While many dragons have a particular kind of treasure that they seek out above others, a red dragon’s avarice is total and all-consuming. If an item has any monetary value, a red dragon will, at a glance, identify that value to within a copper piece and crave the treasure with every fibre of her being. While certainly intelligent and resourceful enough to do so, a red dragon rarely enacts grand schemes to get what she wants unless she expects truly immense resistance. In most cases, a red dragon is confident enough in her power to simply show up and take what she wants, incinerating anyone who tries to stop her.

With this bold collection strategy, red dragon hoards are likely some of the vastest and most priceless collections of treasure to be attained by any one being. A red dragon often rests atop a mound of coins, gems, and lesser artifacts, with elder dragons having funds to swim through. A red dragon’s favourite treasures are typically put on display, each having earned their favour not only by its value but by the story of how it came to be in her possession. The blessed lance a knight hoped would slay her, the tiara of a princess she successfully abducted from a keep, the statuary from a city she laid waste to—all these treasures and more prove to a red dragon just how superior she really is.

Even though she has her favourites, a red dragon remembers every item in her hoard. Thanks to this perfect recall, it only takes one look for a red dragon to realise something is out of place, or worse, gone. There is little more furious than a red dragon who realises she has been robbed. With expert tracking skills, a red dragon will personally pursue the thief of even a single bauble, ripping them apart when she finds them. If a red dragon does lose a thief’s trail, her rage can be such as to drive her into tearing whole townships apart, regardless of the lost treasure’s value.

Sex and Sexuality Among Red Dragons

Being so irrevocably filled with arrogance and so driven to outdo others of their kind, red dragons seldom get along. Two red dragons that meet in person are liable to tear each other apart in gruesome combat. There is, however, one activity in which red dragons must cooperate, that being the creation of offspring. This is a difficult proposition for a red dragon; expressing need to anyone, even another red dragon, is tantamount to declaring one’s inferiority. As such, mating among red dragons is a delicate affair.

Generally, mating will be initiated by younger, less powerful red dragons who approach an older, better-established dragon with a request to mate. Most likely, this older dragon will receive many such propositions, the tales of her wealth and power having travelled far. As such, she can afford to be picky, with most young suitors leaving with awful wounds. Eventually, however, a suitor will likely be accepted, both for her vitality and to prevent the elder’s rivals from spreading rumours of infertility and the like. As such, successful younger dragons attain the prestige of being accepted as mates by an infamous partner, while the elder may brag about the sheer number of suitors she has coming to her.

Actual mating among red dragons is a rather brief and violent affair, and it is not uncommon for both dragons involved to end up grievously wounded by fang and claw. When mating is done and the young suitor is pregnant, she swiftly leaves for her own territory, neither dragon wishing to spend a moment more in each other’s presence.

Back in her lair, the red dragon recovers from her injuries and lays her eggs. In order to develop, a red dragon’s eggs must be kept at a high temperature. When available, red dragons keep their eggs within a source of geothermal heat, such as a lava pool. When this luxury is not available, a red dragon builds a bonfire to lay her eggs within, lighting it with her breath and keeping it fuelled by a constant stream of woodcutting or coal mining servants. A red dragon responds to threats to her eggs with fury, but ultimately, given the choice between herself and her offspring, she will always make the selfish choice.

Newly hatched red dragon wyrmlings are no less arrogant than their mothers. Thanks to their comparative weakness and some maternal bonds, a mother red dragon finds her wyrmling’s insistence on superiority to be endearing and their pointless attempts to steal pieces of her hoard humorous. As such, it is more often the wyrmlings that grow sick of their parents than the other way around, with the wyrmlings having enough of being condescended to and leaving their mother’s protection just weeks after hatching.

Between mating, red dragons will fuck lesser creatures and occasionally make half-dragons, but this is largely a form of recreation for them, one which they dedicate very little energy to. A red dragon is undeniably vain, but not in the way that she demands to be seen as beautiful, only wishing to be feared and respected for her ultimate power. Still, beauty in others does annoy a red dragon, especially if that beauty draws attention from her own majesty. This is why red dragons so commonly target the beautiful and admired, particularly princesses and young nobility. Normally a red dragon will keep the damsel prisoner for a while, waiting to see if a ransom large enough to assuage her offence is offered, but if she grows tired of waiting, the princess will be consumed or violently ravaged, turning a kingdom’s symbol of beauty and loveliness into a ruined production site for a horde of half-dragon marauders.

Men to Red Dragons

Unlike many chromatic dragons of similarly high intelligence, red dragons don’t endeavour to make use of men to gain advantages, nor do they hide their distain until it is convenient. Red dragons hate men with a passion and make no attempt to hide it. All of a red dragon’s normal posturing and gloating go out of the window when a red dragon spots any male being. A man should not expect a red dragon to carry him off and imprison him, nor will she take the time to boast of her accomplishment. In the burning eyes of a red dragon, the price of being a male in her presence is immediate death.

The reason for this suddenness is not just hatred, but also paranoia. Thanks to her vanity, a red dragon who discovers a man in her territory can only assume that he is there to fuck the greatest instance of female life he can find. In a red dragon’s opinion, there is no female that can fulfil that title besides herself. As such, a red dragon inflexibly believes that any man she encounters is before her with the express purpose of raping her. Though a red dragon rarely thinks there is a chance of a man defeating her, she knows that every second he is alive increases the chance of him impregnating her before she can kill him.

Among red dragons, the negative impact of being forced to birth a man’s child, should other dragons discover it, is enormous. As such, it is an eventuality all red dragons seek to avoid in as swift and sure a way as possible. Of course, this reason rings a little too much like an implication that red dragons fear men, so when a red dragon does explain her violent response to male life, she typically declares something along the lines of being disgusted by how little any man alive today resembles Holor Doomrod, the pinnacle of male life and, of course, the latest male red dragon to reach adulthood.

Having died only around five hundred years ago, there are still elves and dwarves who remember a world ruled by Holor. The first record of Holor’s existence comes only a year or so after his birth. The Doomrod’s tale starts in a surprising place: as a wyrmling enslaved by a wicked and arrogant human queen. Queen Germahide II apparently bought Holor at an exorbitant price from a trapper who had happened to capture him and, sure that fate would see him die before he became a problem, kept him as a pet and symbol of her power.

Ironically, however, it was Germahide’s ownership that spared Holor from fate’s hand. Though a prisoner, the queen's castle and troops kept all that could pose a threat to him at bay, letting him grow out of the most vulnerable stage of his life. Still, Holor had no gratitude for his jailers. It had not been long after his purchase that Queen Germahide II was tempted into fucking her new pet. As the years went on and Holor grew stronger, angrier, and more lustful, the queen began fucking him less for her own lust and more to keep his lust and his fury under control. This submission only forestalled the inevitable, however, and one day, the mind of Queen Germahide II broke. The roles of master and pet were utterly reversed, and the queen became nothing more than the dragon’s mouthpiece. Eventually all in the castle and the keep beyond, be they noble, servant, or guard, were forced to submit to being Holor Doomrod’s cum receptacles or die.

For the next few decades, Holor Doomrod grew in power and influence. Having picked up the methods of governance, Queen Germahide’s kingdom went on as normal, with only rumours of the change in governance escaping the capital. Militarily, the kingdom’s borders expanded, with armies being supplemented by legions of fire-breathing, half-dragon elite troops. Booty and prisoners of war flooded back into the kingdom, all piling into Holor’s hoard.

Eventually, as he reached adulthood and his first queen disappeared from record, Holor Doomrod decided there was no longer any need to hide his majesty. All around his realm now knew that they neighboured a red dragon king, yet there was nothing they could do. As his might, combined with his army, swept in, nation after nation fell. From each, he demanded their leaders be presented to him, for the domination of Queen Germahide II had given him a hunger to breed royalty. As such, royalty of all kinds was surrendered into his harem, from child princesses to venerable sovereigns. Elven matriarchs and dwarven high queens alike found themselves impaled upon his cock. Filling out his harem was a menagerie of all manner of exotic creatures, including dragons of all kinds. Even this, however, was not the true extent of his harem. Until the day he died, all those in his sight knew only that they were his property, to be fucked and bred at his demand.

Chapter 84: White Dragon (Art)

To the uneducated observer, the icy tundra may look like an unlikely place for one to meet a dragon. With their reptilian features, many people assume that all dragons must shun the cold, just as true reptiles do. Dragons are, however, not true reptiles. As any scholar of dragons could tell you, dragons are beings all their own with elemental power thrumming within them. If the native element within them is ice that rimes over their soul and turns their breath into a deadly blizzard, then a dragon can fit into a frozen domain as easily as she may fit into her own scales, which range from the lightest of grey to the palest of blue, overall colouring the dragon white.

A lot of records, quite irresponsibly, label white dragons as the least of true dragons, citing them as weak, unintelligent, and crude. What these assessments fail to note is that calling a white dragon weak requires the sort of technical comparative quibbling that most prospective dragon fuckers (or slayers) could do well without. When a white dragon appears unbidden from a snowstorm, it is little comfort to know that it is marginally smaller than it would have been if a similarly aged red dragon, and likewise, there is little knowing its disinterest in philosophy and trivia can do to save one from becoming a grizzly statue of ice.

Simpleminded Perfection

While the differences in power between white dragons and those of different colours are largely irrelevant, a white dragon’s intelligence is notably low. Unlike many dragons, white dragons are not ones for scheming or boasting. Most of the time, a white dragon seems more akin to a beast than a sentient creature. Even if one does convince a white dragon to speak and share what it knows about local history, arcane knowledge, and current events, one is likely to get more illuminating information from a local herder or fisherman.

Despite what many believe, white dragons are not utterly stupid creatures. White dragons are adept at noticing readily apparent information and can record it almost encyclopedically within their minds. Where a white dragon struggles is pondering the unobvious factors involved. If, for example, a white dragon recalled hunting a herd of reindeer or pack of seals, as she often does, she would be able to perfectly recall where the hunt took place, her method of attack, how many animals there were, and how many she consumed. The white dragon would, however, struggle to ascertain less physical details like why she was in the area at the time, how she would have altered her tactics if the situation had been different, or even if she was hungry at the time of her hunt.

In a way, there is brilliance to a white dragon’s way of thinking. By dispensing with whys and hows, a white dragon is rarely held up in a novel situation, letting her take immediate advantage of it. Likewise, since a white dragon doesn’t consider options other than her instinctive response, she is difficult to trick or persuade. This lack of deeper reasoning also makes white dragons brutally vengeful. When a white dragon feels wronged, she remembers the face and smell of the one who wronged her. When the white dragon encounters that individual again, she doesn’t recall the slight, only that the individual must be killed.

Solitary Survivalists

Befitting their low intelligence, white dragons are some of the least social dragons in existence. White dragons barely interact with one another, not even in the manner of other chromatic dragons, posturing and fighting for status. Among white dragons, status is a hollow word; a white dragon trusts only her power and tenacity to survive in the unforgiving wilds and stays as far away from her neighbours as possible.

On their own, white dragons live in deep, icy caves or crevasses that she has expanded with her exceptional burrowing skills. A white dragon’s lair is usually quite limited in construction, with few hazards outside the dragon herself besides the naturally icy surfaces and any minions that are fanatical and populous enough to tolerate being mistreated and occasionally consumed by the object of their worship, typically kobolds or orcs. A white dragon’s treasure is often kept in plain view, scattered across her central chamber’s floor. To prevent theft, however, a white dragon seals her treasure under layers of transparent ice. Though coins, gems, ivory from mammoths and walruses, and the weapons of past foes all glitter in plain view, none without the burrowing strength of a white dragon could access them without hours of painstaking work.

For white dragons, staring down into her frozen hoard represents the creatures she slew to attain each and every coin and bauble. From this, a white dragon comes to appreciate her own strength. However, with such a basic view of strength, white dragons will sometimes have their philosophy turned against them. Most dragons have an enormous instinctual repulsion to submission, causing them to fight fiercely, even to their own destruction at times, against calling another being, particularly a non-draconic being, their master. White dragons are not like this.

To a white dragon, survival is paramount, and those that are strong are superior to those that are weak. As such, while a white dragon will fight anyone who dares to try to subjugate her and will most often win, killing whatever overconfident fool dared to assault them, a foe that does prove mightier than a white dragon may earn her servitude. Some legendary frost giants have pet white dragons, while powerful spellcasters may ride on a white dragon’s back. On a smaller scale, barbarians and orc chieftains may keep white dragon wyrmlings as symbols of their power. White dragons do not like servitude, however, and when they feel they can win, a white dragon will do her utmost to slay her master.

Sex and Sexuality Among White Dragons

As mentioned, white dragons are not social creatures. Still, white dragons do, on occasion, feel powerful and overwhelming lust. Just as she would in response to physical hunger, a sudden sexual apatite sends a white dragon out on the hunt. When prompted to hunt by lust, a white dragon ideally seeks another of her kind who is significantly weaker than her. This is easier said than done in most cases. Most white dragons are fairly evenly matched, so it is often a matter of surprise and advantageous conditions that let a horny white dragon defeat one of her fellows, bringing her down long enough to rape and impregnate her before flying away satisfied.

For most dragons, such a violation would be a grave insult, and the dragon involved could expect their victim to stop at nothing in search of revenge. White dragons, however, see things a little differently. While a raped white dragon is rarely pleased with how events turned out, she is also rarely vengeful. Indeed, a white dragon is often more enraged when a would-be rapist tries to take her but is forced to flee unsuccessful. As a white dragon sees it, an unsuccessful rapist wastes her time, infringes on her territory, and may well injure her before leaving with nothing to show for it, providing her with nothing in exchange. While all of these things also happen when a rape is successful, the rapist also gives a white dragon offspring of stronger lineage than she could find herself, in an odd way softening the blow to her pride.

In any case, apart from the disrespect and humiliation, white dragons do not suffer much in the way of a great loss from being forcibly impregnated, for white dragons put less than the smallest modicum of effort into childcare. White dragon eggs need freezing temperatures to develop. These conditions can be attained by a white dragon simply burying her eggs in the snow near the entrance to her lair. By being laid in this location, the eggs are protected by thieves more by their mother’s natural territoriality and predatory instincts than any innate protectiveness. When they hatch, a white dragon wyrmling’s mother tolerates their presence in her territory but does little else. Soon enough, the white dragon’s instinct to be solitary leads the wyrmlings to depart, leaving their mother alone.

Sometimes, especially when she is younger and comparatively weak, a white dragon in the throes of lust will fail to find a dragon she believes herself capable of dominating. In this event, to alleviate her desire, she will turn to raping other creatures like humanoids, whales, yetis, bears, and frost giants. These acts are done for little more than self-satisfaction, and a white dragon cares not if her victim gets pregnant nor of the fate of whatever half-dragon offspring is born. However, from their draconic parent, most half-dragons are born surprisingly precocious, so they can usually survive total abandonment after birth, should it come to that.

Men to White Dragons

Despite or perhaps because of their bestial nature, white dragons are perhaps the kind of true dragon least burdened by any pathological bias against men, even when compared to undeniably more virtuous metallic dragons. This is not to say, by any means, that white dragons like men. They are just as likely to kill a man they come across as a woman. However, white dragons, lacking the inclination to guess at a man’s sense of sexual worth, do not lead themselves to moral outrage at the potential for a man to consider himself their superior. Like most dragons, a white dragon may well assume that a man wishes to rape her, but thanks to her kind’s reproductive habits, she is no more likely to begrudge a man of this desire than she would another white dragon.

The ultimate show of this mindset is a white dragon’s response to a man actually successfully fucking her. A white dragon does not make fucking her easy, a battle for the right to fuck a white dragon is not a test of worthiness but a most likely lethal battle for survival, in which she will pull no punches. Still, if a man and his companions overcome the odds and successfully impregnate her, she will seek no revenge. Indeed, the man will, in her eyes, be worthy of a measure of respect.

Respect from one white dragon does not equate to respect from them all. White dragons do not share news with each other, especially of a nature that makes them seem weak. Things known to white dragons are lost at the end of their lifespans. This was almost the fate of one male dragon known as Jarl Nykzal Tre-Dod.

Records of Nykzal are not found in draconic remembrance but in the records of their ancient enemies, the giants, who also granted him his epithet. Nykzal Tre-Dod, meaning “Thrice-Dead” in the giant tongue, was so named because the giants believe fate marked Nykzal for death three times. The first mark was simply that he was born a male dragon, whose odds of survival were thus low. The second mark was a little more complicated.

Nykzal was born in the midst of a great war between dragons and giants for dominion over the world. In those grim times, any moment could be a being’s last, even (or especially) if that being happened to be a dragon. Nykzal was, however, oblivious to these two curses. Nykzal’s youth is a bit of a mystery, save that he managed, through shear fluke, to beat the odds and reach adulthood. Like any white dragon, Nykzal ate when he was hungry and fucked when he was horny. With his undeniable male lust, it did not take long for his territory to overflow with half-dragon monstrosities—a bloom that could not be ignored forever.

At the time of the great war, it is said that, uniquely among the Ordening, the system of ranking giants still use among themselves, frost and fire giants stood equal to each other, with the superiority of individual giants of those two breeds being based on merit rather than kind. This special dispensation came from the fact that the patron goddesses of the frost and fire giants, Thrym and Surtur, respectively, were twins. As such, it was a mixed band of fire and frost giants that were sent to slay the dragon Nykzal.

At this time, however, Nykzal was a dragon in his prime, with legions of half-dragon monsters roaming his lands to protect him. When the dragon slayers were defeated, however, they were momentarily spared, for Nykzul’s lust was greater than his hunger. Imprisoned by his icy breath, Nykzal raped his captives day in and day out. As the legends go, the fire giants held out, choosing death before succumbing to their brutish draconic foe. The frost giants prefer to say that the fire giants died of cold, and had they had the frost giants’ immunity, they would have joined their sisters in the shameful events that were to unfold.

Shortly after the fire giants’ deaths, the frost giants’ resolve broke. Overtaken by a madness of lust, the frost giants swore fealty to the dragon, raising him to be their jarl and serving both as his warriors and his breeding slaves. In a matter of decades, Jarl Nykzal amassed an army of frost giant warriors to serve both on the battlefield and at his cock. Though not particularly interested in a draconic victory, Nykzal enjoyed being a Jarl immensely, warring with giant clans to show his strength and gain slaves for his harem. Most giants believe that if it were not for the civil war caused by the frost giant defectors, they could have won the war. Annam All-Patter, goddess of all giants, seemed to agree, for it was this event that caused the chosen of Thrym to lose their equal status to the chosen of Surtur. Thus, Jarl Nykzal gained his third mark for death, for he had inadvertently gained the personal enmity of a goddess.

It is unknown if Thrym ever got her revenge on Jarl Nykzal Tre-Dod, but his mark remains. In the eyes of the Ordening, frost giants remain inferior to fire giants to this day, and all frost giants know which dragon to blame. Distrusting magic in the first place, frost giants are especially repulsed by draconic sorcery. A frost giant born with draconic magic is marked as a descendant of Nykzal. If this magic is discovered, the giant must flee, for all true worshipers of Thrym know to hunt her down and destroy her in the name of their kind’s honour.

Notes:

Big thanks to Vandi for the art on this chapter, check them out on Instagram @avvandiart

Chapter 85: Metallic Dragons

With gleaming scales that resemble the beaten and polished precious metals from which they get their name, metallic dragons are the virtuous light that mirrors the chromatic dragon’s evil darkness. While metallic dragons have not lost the classic draconic traits of pride and avarice, they are curtailed by a general respect for other living things.

Most metallic dragons dedicate a great deal of their lives to the championing of good or the eradication of evil. The level of dedication and how it is carried out generally depend on the specific type of metallic dragon involved. The five most common kinds of metallic dragons—brass, bronze, copper, gold, and silver—will each be discussed in their own chapters, following this one. This chapter endeavours to cover the general trends of metallic dragons as a whole.

Greatness Begets Responsibility

Of all the positive traits a metallic dragon may embody, humility is seldom one of them. Just as any dragon does, a metallic dragon takes great pride in her draconic bloodline, along with the power, resilience, and wisdom that come with it. In what can be grating to some, a metallic dragon will not hesitate to admit that she considers all non-draconic life to be inferior to her.

However, where metallic dragons differ from their evil relatives is their opinion on what their superiority means. In the philosophy of most metallic dragons, just because a non-draconic being is weak and vulnerable does not mean that they lack the right to direct their own destiny. A metallic dragon, for instance, may believe that she could do a far better job at leading a nation than some human queen, but unless the people live in abject suffering, then the improvements she could make through a hostile takeover would not be worth the price of forcing innocent people to live under tyranny.

Few metallic dragons are willing to do nothing when there is evil to defeat and good to bolster, however. In these times, most turn to the teachings of Bahamut, the goddess of all good dragons. Known to most humanoids as a humble old woman attended by seven canaries (in fact, gold dragons in unassuming disguise), Bahamut’s true form is that of a great and powerful platinum dragon who makes her home in the Seven Heavens of Mount Celestia. It is through her teachings that metallic dragons choose to assist lesser creatures in fighting their own battles and learning their own lessons rather than taking over their lives.

In aid of this goal, metallic dragons have a unique medical gift from Bahamut herself. Just as the Platinum Dragon can go about in the guise of an unremarkable elderly woman and her attendants can become simple birds, most metallic dragons, at some point around adulthood, gain the ability to transform into any humanoid or beast they desire. While the only real limit to this transformative ability is that the dragon cannot change sex, many dragons have a preference for taking on forms reminiscent of their true nature. For example, a bronze dragon turning into a human will normally have a deep suntan to make her skin bronze, while a gold dragon becoming a bird will most likely turn into a canary, the yellow of its feathers matching the gold of her scales. Still, in this humble disguise, metallic dragons can influence society for the better without dominating lesser creatures.

Curious Collectors

For as good as a metallic dragon can be, they are often just as covetous as their evil chromatic kin. However, where chromatic dragons see their wealth as a symbol of their superiority, metallic dragons have a more emotive link to their treasure. A mound of coins and gems in a metallic dragon’s hoard may have been claimed in a battle against an orc war band, thus symbolising the victory of good over evil, while a great statue may have been a gift from a group of people as a mark of alliance, reminding the dragon of a group of friends that have since passed. Tomes and magical artefacts represent archives of historical and arcane knowledge for a dragon to spend her centuries of life studying so that she has the wisdom to pass on as it is needed.

Metallic dragons also collect treasures that they consider too powerful or dangerous to be left in mortal hands. Fonts of unstable magic and fiend-crafted artefacts of evil are often hidden within a metallic dragon’s hoard, hopefully buried out of mortal sight and memory, with the powerful dragon acting as a formidable guardian against any villain who wishes to reclaim them.

Occasionally, if it is for the greater good, a metallic dragon can be convinced to loan or even part ways with one of her treasures. However, metallic dragons are strongly attached to every last coin and curio they own, and, even when they know it is required, parting with any is an emotionally painful experience. Because of this, metallic dragons tend to try and avoid the necessity of giving their treasures up, and it may be necessary for adventurers to prove themselves worthy or even offer treasure in return to soften the blow of the original treasure’s loss.

Sex and Sexuality Among Metallic Dragons

As noble and wise as metallic dragons tend to be, the sheer amount of vitality in their souls also means that most are also far hornier than they let on to most lesser creatures. Though in a near-constant state of arousal, metallic dragons tend to keep very firm control over their lust, expressing it mostly when they mate with others of their kind. Though only some metallic dragons form lifelong monogamous bonds, a breeding pair is generally formed on a platform of the deepest respect, if not love, as most humanoids understand it. Metallic dragons tend to lay fewer eggs than chromatic dragons, but they also take better care of their offspring, educating them in the way the world works and fighting to the death to keep them safe.

Like any true dragon, metallic dragons can also mate with many non-draconic creatures to produce half-dragon offspring. However, thanks to their respect for all sapient life, metallic dragons breed with intelligent non-dragons much less commonly than chromatic dragons do. To a metallic dragon, an intelligent half-dragon is not just a tool to use in schemes or the side effect of receiving some base satisfaction, but a living being with their own aspirations and fate, one that the dragon must accept some responsibility for as their parent. Metallic dragons rarely parent their half-dragon offspring as directly as she would fully draconic wyrmling, but, from the background, she will endeavour to guide and support them to the best of her ability. When a metallic dragon does want a half-dragon to serve her needs, she typically impregnates an animal or unintelligent monster so the offspring can be kept as a pet rather than a slave.

Still, with a greater openness to seeing lesser creatures as more than tools or prey, a metallic dragon can sometimes come to have romantic feelings for a humanoid. What attracts a dragon to a woman varies, but usually these relationships don’t last long—only a decade or so maximum—until the dragon leaves to peruse a “proper” relationship with her own kind. Generally, she approaches her humanoid love in a humanoid guise. As such, a woman may never know that her one-time lover was, in fact, a dragon. Metallic dragons tend to avoid procreating in such relationships because there is a large chance that their child will be born obviously half-draconic, thus revealing her identity.

Men to Metallic Dragons

For all their goodness and respect for intelligent life, metallic dragons are, unfortunately, burdened with an instinctual distrust of non-draconic men. This is not to say a metallic dragon throws all her morality to the wind to harm a man on sight, but if there is no other information to go on, a metallic dragon will treat a man more harshly than she would a similar woman, suspicious that he believes himself to be their superior thanks to his sex. For the most part, metallic dragons will usually just attempt to keep men away from her, but men often bring the winds of fate with them, and it often becomes necessary for a metallic dragon to guide or cooperate with a man to aid the cause of good or avert disaster. Even in these times, a metallic dragon generally tries to remain distant to avoid encouraging a man to try and seduce her.

While biased, metallic dragons are seldom unreasonable. With time and the right approach, a man can overcome a metallic dragon’s misgivings about him and earn a measure of her respect. Going from acceptance to seduction, however, is a much harder process. For all their contained lust, metallic dragons can easily take offence from a man seeing them in a sexual light. In order for a metallic dragon to even consider letting a man have sex with her, she will often feel the need to test various aspects of him in search of any flaw that she can use to disqualify him. Only the most perfect man, who suits a metallic dragon’s desires perfectly, may get the right to breed her.

Of course, the most perfect man, by the reasoning of most metallic dragons, is a male metallic dragon. Being true dragons, fate is not kind to young metallic males. By divine guidance, dark instinct, or even just happenstance, all manner of evil creatures are led to a male metallic dragon while he is young and vulnerable. Though the forces of good often fight valiantly to protect a male dragon, from his parents to specially built noble orders, only a few male metallic dragons reach their prime. At this point, a male metallic dragon’s fate switches, with victory after victory in the name of good. Being male, these metallic dragons tend to be more sexually active, breeding other dragons, captured foes, and admirers in abundance. With his army of lovers, a properly established male metallic dragon struggles to keep a low profile, often being elevated to the status of a king or a god incarnate.

Chapter 86: Brass Dragon

Most at home in dry, barren places like deserts and blistering canyons, the nature of a brass dragon is almost directly the opposite of her preferred abode. To call a brass dragon talkative is as accurate as to call the flames she can breathe warm. A brass dragon lives for conversation with all manner of creatures, adoring it as much as she adores warm sunlight to bathe in and sunbaked sand to swim through.

A brass dragon’s expressive face is framed by a bold frill that brightens the lustre of her face's scales. At birth, a brass dragon is a plain mottled brown but as she grows, this colour shimmers into the burnished brassy colour for which she is named, with twinges of green at the edges of her many frills, including her broad wings that taper all the way down her body to the tip of her tail. A brass dragon’s hazel eyes shimmer in the sunlight, resembling great brass spheres.

Captivating Conversationalists

A brass dragon’s thirst for conversation is legendary. Should a brass dragon happen upon a being capable of communication, she will descend upon them to communicate. A brass dragon will, after introducing herself and waiting for the awe or terror of a dragon’s sudden appearance to calm, demand to know all about the new individual, who they are, where they come from, and what brought them to her domain. This can, at times, feel like an interrogation, but more often than not, a brass dragon asks these questions purely in the name of small talk rather than any true desire to delve into the personal matters of a stranger.

When a brass dragon seeks to talk to someone, it is usually less of a request and more of a demand. If a person tries to leave a brass dragon’s presence before she is done talking, she will follow them. If that individual tries a particularly drastic method of escape, their rudeness may annoy her to the extent that she feels justified in unleashing her secondary breath weapon. Far from the terrifying jet of flames that she may expel if pressed by true danger, a brass dragon can instead expel a cloud of soporific gas, which causes unconsciousness in most creatures that inhale it. On awakening, a victim will likely find themselves restrained under the brass dragon’s paw, berried up to their neck in sand, or dangling by their foot from a small outcropping until their captor is satisfied with the conversation.

On the other hand, if a person does willingly engage a brass dragon in conversation, she may gain a measure of fondness for them that can translate to some assistance, particularly when it comes to knowledge. Having spoken to thousands of diverse creatures over her long life, a brass dragon typically has a vast repertoire of historical and cultural knowledge. While much of this information is shared freely, a brass dragon knows that some facts and secrets are valuable enough to hold at a premium, normally payable in gold and similar treasures.

These payments are rarely held within a brass dragon’s lair, typically a sunlit ruin or canyon, but are instead squirrelled away in satellite caches she knows by memory and checks in on frequently. In her lair, a brass dragon typically houses only her favourite treasures. For a brass dragon, the greatest treasures are those that facilitate a greater scope of communication. Examples include magical devices that allow the traversal of language barriers by telepathy or the power to talk to beasts, objects that allow communication over vast distances, or devices that enhance the dragon’s already formidable charisma. The absolute prize of a brass dragon’s horde will likely be an artefact with which she can converse, such as a genie in a bottle or a sentient, telepathic weapon.

Proudly Vain

Despite their skills in conversation and rhetoric, a brass dragon's favourite conversation topic is usually herself. If given the chance, a brass dragon will talk at length about her achievements, her knowledge, and her popularity. Despite their preference for interacting with other creatures, brass dragons do not attain the ability to shapeshift to match their conversation partners until much later in life compared to other metallic dragons. This rarely concerns a brass dragon; after all, why look like something she’s not when what she is happens to be so incredible? In fact, this is part of the reason why, despite being so charismatic, brass dragons prefer to talk to “lesser” creatures than each other; a brass dragon acknowledges her fellow’s greatness, but time spent discussing that diminishes the time available to discuss her own.

As shamelessly as a brass dragon boasts of her greatness, what she adores most is praise from other creatures. When a brass dragon chats with other creatures, she openly fishes for compliments and gushes adoringly when she receives them. Out of politeness, a brass dragon will listen to other creatures talk about themselves or other topics, but subtly, she will steer the conversation back to her preferred topic eventually. Sometimes, the easiest way to get a brass dragon’s assistance is to discuss a situation that does not yet involve her but that she could insert herself into. In want to turn the conversation back toward her, the brass dragon may suggest ways she could be of assistance.

Compliments also tend to make brass dragons more cooperative. In general, a brass dragon tends to become both trusting and protective over creatures that admire her. However, a brass dragon is not rendered entirely witless by sweet talking, and she will almost certainly notice if her sycophants are trying to deceive her into acting against her interests by unveiling the location of her hidden treasure or assisting them in an evil act, for example. When this happens, the brass dragon takes the trickery in stride, playing along to trick the would-be manipulators in return, treating the web of lies as the board for a great game.

Sex and Sexuality Among Brass Dragons

When a brass dragon seeks compliments, she will usually be happy with compliments of all kinds; there is, after all, so much about her that is great. Along with classic features such as strength, wit, and charm, a brass dragon is seldom insulted to hear remarks about her beauty and sexual alure. Indeed, some brass dragons go out of their way to encourage such praise with accessories like jewellery and unguents or sensual behaviours. While listening to a creature, a brass dragon may recline in a sensual position, keeping her tits on full display and making sure to bounce them if her conversation partner says something that warrants laughter. When she talks, the brass dragon may lace her words with gentle flirtation and inuendo.

Ultimately, however, a brass dragon’s teasing is meant only to titillate and entertain her audience, nothing more. It is rare for a brass dragon to truly desire to form a romantic or sexual relationship with a non-dragon, whose mating would result in a half-dragon, unless their talent for flirtation, compliments, or oration is truly exceptional. When a brass dragon discovers that a person has fallen in love with them or feels an honest, overwhelming desire to have sex with them, she is normally surprisingly humble and contrite. In a brass dragon’s eyes, her flirtation resulting in an unrequited attraction is akin to a show of strength accidentally injuring an observer. As she would in the latter case, a brass dragon does her best to repair the harm she’s done, putting her admirer down gently, but she will not feign attraction for the admirer’s sake.

Though brass dragons prefer to receive flattery from other creatures than enter boasting contests with each other, brass dragons do, about once every few decades, assemble to socialise with each other. On this cloudless, moonlit night, brass dragons meet on the wing to talk and catch up on news. By tradition, outright boasting is kept to a minimum, so the brass dragons attempt to show their skills as orators by informing each other of events through rich and compelling narratives of such profusion and eloquence that many humanoid writers would give their hands just to be able to listen in. After a few nights of storytelling, poetry, and friendly debate, brass dragons who have most effectively captivated each other will pair off to mate.

For the duration of the mating, incubation, and childcare, normally a period of five to ten years, the brass dragon with the smaller hoard tends to leave her territory to cohabitate in her mate’s lair. Sex between brass dragons is a protracted affair, normally interspersed with sweet talk and romantic gestures. Though it is normally the visiting dragon that gets pregnant, this is not always the case.

Brass dragon eggs need high and constant heat in order to develop. To facilitate this, brass dragons dig up coal or gather wood for a bonfire of a nest, lit by her flaming breath, and kept burning until the eggs hatch. Brass dragons take the formative years of their wyrmlings to teach them not only the social graces of interacting with different kinds of creatures but also vast historical knowledge and secrets passed on from parent to hatching since the inception of dragonkind. When a lustre starts to appear on a young brass dragon’s scales, her parents encourage her to find her own way in the world and part ways. Before she allows them to leave, a brass dragon who hosted her mate in her territory often gifts them with a particularly valuable treasure as recompense for having left her territory abandoned for so long.

Men to Brass Dragons

Like most dragons, female brass dragons have an instinctual discomfort around men. This can be especially unpleasant when the brass dragon in question seeks much of her praise through a reputation of alure, for the dissonance between hearing what she loves to hear and the unpleasantness of hearing it from a man is uncomfortable. Creating even more dissonance is that a brass dragon enjoys conversing with unique individuals, and men are nothing if not unique. As such, a brass dragon would likely curse herself for wilfully avoiding a man out of hand.

Thankfully, brass dragons are, usually, rational beings capable of understanding at an objective level that not all men mean her ill. As such, a brass dragon can use her preferred tool, conversation, to weed innocent men out of the bad ones. As such, a man entering a brass dragon’s territory can expect to be ruthlessly interrogated, often with very specific accusations thrown his way. If a brass dragon finds no reason to suspect a man, however, she usually simmers down rather quickly. Still, brass dragons tend to be rather reserved around men, picking their words carefully and often outright expressing their sexual disinterest on multiple occasions. It takes a great deal of familiarity with a man for a brass dragon to be as candid with him as she is with female strangers, and even then, a brass dragon will actively avoid flirting with a man unless she wants something from him. Only the most persuasive, engaging, and flattering of men have ever managed to get a brass dragon comfortable with having sex with them, for only those kinds of men come close to the brass dragons’ male ideal, which was Barnazlanir “Barnaby” the Firebrand.

Little is known of Barnazlanir’s youth save that he was a shy dragon who withdrew himself from the world for a time after being assaulted and left for dead by the Daughter’s of Aranbold, a council of sorceresses who wished to assassinate him in their jealous draconic ancestor’s name. For decades, the trauma from his brush with death kept Barnazlanir from showing his face, fucking and speaking only to the nomadic band of tieflings that had nursed him back to health. It was from this tribe that the dragon got his preferred name, Barnaby.

After generations of living with this tribe on the outskirts of the diminished Anboldic Empire, a new queen took the throne, one who was rather more active than her predecessor. Under this queen, the empire’s slave trade became more active than any had seen it since Aranbold Skyscale’s death. Ignorant of these politics, Barnaby returned from a hunt to find a slaver’s camp, run by the Daughters of Aranbold, where his tieflings’ village had been. Though still haunted by the memories of his youth, the sight of his loved ones being enslaved snapped something within him and he struck. Barnaby was not the terrified, dying wyrmling the empire's sorceresses had left in their first battle however. Over the years, not quite noticing it himself, Barnaby had become a mighty and unstoppable dragon.

With his friends freed, a fire was lit within Barnaby’s soul, the fire of revolution. Starting with slaver’s outposts before progressing to towns and cities, Barnaby put those that would take slaves under siege. Though his fiery breath and claws were as devastating as any dragon’s, it was Barnaby’s words that were his greatest weapon. With rallying speeches from the skies, Anboldic soldiers defected and slaves rose up against their oppressors. Many of those freed joined Barnaby so that by the time he reached the capitol itself, he had a full rebel army at his back. It is said that, instead of attacking directly, Barnaby burrowed down into the inner sanctum of Aranbold’s castle, the lair of the deceased Aranbold Skyscale himself. There, he confronted the queen.

The following morning, the loyalists of Aranbold looked over their wall to see their queen naked, unconscious, and hanging from a rebel banner filled with dragon cum. The disarray by this display is so great that some say the city was taken without a drop of blood spilt. In the aftermath, Barnaby was, by the will of his army, crowned king of Aranbold. On top of inheriting the last draconic ruler’s lair and what was left of his hoard, Barnaby was gifted with treasure in the form of tithes and taxes as well as legions of admirers seeking to breed with the dragon who had saved them from tyranny. Still, near the end of his long life, it is said that Barnaby found the descendants of his original tiefling tribe and fled Aranbold with them, seeking to live the remainder of his days among loved ones. The descendants of those tieflings still roam Aranbold today, known as the Dancers of Dragonfire, they are travelling sorceresses who oppose slavery and oppression wherever they find it.

Chapter 87: Bronze Dragon

Seen by many as the lawful paladins among the moral metallic dragons, bronze dragons endeavour to bring order and justice by air, land, and sea from the wild coastlines that they call home. Matching their semiaquatic lives, bronze dragons possess webbed feet, finlike head crests, and smooth scales like fish. Starting off with a collage of yellow and green scales as a wyrmling, it takes only a few years for a bronze dragon’s scales to shift to their namesake bronze tone. Meanwhile, age may make a bronze dragon’s green eyes glow in the deep, like sunlight through a luscious kelp forest.

Most of the time, a bronze dragon keeps a low profile, feeding on fish and sharks or roaming her territory in a friendly guise like a dolphin, albatross, beggar, or knight errant. Most will pass a bronze dragon by without a second look. If a bronze dragon becomes wise to the rise of evil, particularly of the riotous, destabilising kind, she will strike with all the fury of a wild ocean storm.

Draconic Justice

When it comes to her own moral philosophy, a bronze dragon is entirely self-assured and completely inflexible. Though there are small deviations in beliefs (deviations bronze dragons will argue or sometimes even duel over at length), the central precepts of a bronze dragon’s beliefs tend to be largely the same across her species. Most bronze dragons believe that there are ideal places in the world and its societies for all intelligent creatures and that conforming to these positions brings forth the betterment of all. A bronze dragon generally sees it as her role in life to trust the wisdom of Bahamut and the gold dragons (when the latter feel driven to directly intercede) in order to best seek out evil and bring it to justice.

While they have a reputation for being terrifying and brutal in the enforcement of justice, bronze dragons usually prefer to be more proportionate in their responses to misdeeds. Unless the foe is too dangerous to be kept alive, like a fiend or a chromatic dragon, a bronze dragon prefers to bring criminals down without lethal force. On spotting a ship performing piracy, a bronze dragon prefers to destroy the ship’s rudder and sails rather than lay waste to the crew.

Once her foes are defeated, a bronze dragon will prefer to bring them to a court she trusts to be fair and uncorrupted. If the dragon knows of no such institution in range, she will perform her own justice, normally constructing a jail of sorts near her lair with the condemned performing hard labour like gathering shellfish from coastal rocks or mining precious metals for her.

Most of the time, a bronze dragon takes care not to overstep her bounds, going from enforcing laws to directly governing the lives of other creatures, but the temptation gnaws at many a bronze dragon’s soul. Though a bronze dragon usually avoids punishing noncriminal acts, frivolity, impoliteness, and insubordination will all aggravate her, and if she has decided to show herself, she will likely voice her displeasure. A bronze dragon’s association between what is compliant and what is good can lead her into some moral struggles, however. A bronze dragon often struggles to understand how to untangle the rigorous order of a tyrant’s regime from the misery it causes. Likewise, heroes and other good people who happen to buck the trends of society and disrupt order also tend to give bronze dragons a headache.

Dragons of War

Beyond the day-to-day preservation of justice, bronze dragons are fascinated by full-scale military conflict. Within the costal caves that bronze dragons take as lairs, bronze dragons amass hoards of military memorabilia. Along with pearls and sunken treasure of all kinds, a bronze dragon fills her lair with dredged-up warships, siege engines, and military insignias, along with the often enchanted arms and armour of legendary warriors of ages past. Bronze dragons also collect treatises on battle tactics and records of past wars, making most bronze dragons well versed in conducting a full-scale warfare.

For their knowledge and formidable power in combat, many armies seek a bronze dragon’s aid in their ongoing wars, often offering large sums of gold and other treasures in an effort to convince her. For all her fascination with war, however, a bronze dragon knows the tremendous influence her presence on a battlefield has and thus does not take to war lightly. Before accepting any mercenary payment, a bronze dragon carefully inspects the brewing conflict on her own terms, seeking an unbiased image of what is at stake, the goals of the opposing forces, and ultimately, which side, if either, has a just cause for fighting.

If a bronze dragon finds a side whose cause she supports, she can be a formidable ally, not only brilliant tactically but fearsome on the battlefield. As well as her great strength, steel-hard scales, and razor-sharp teeth and claws, a bronze dragon may exhale eviscerating lightning or a wave of powerful repulsive energy capable of scattering enemy formations.

In exchange for her great assistance, a bronze dragon normally requests a nominal payment from her allies, but if this is outside of their means, the dragon will normally be happy to accept a token payment to remember her allies by or choice claims of the enemy loot. This latter request is especially probable if the enemy holds a weapon or artefact that the dragon feels is too dangerous for mortal hands and so would be better off sealed deep within her lair.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bronze Dragons

Many young bronze dragons spend a period of decades as one of several squires who enforce justice under an elder, well-established bronze dragon’s tutelage, typically a friend or past mentor to one of her parents. During this time, a bronze dragon may well find a fellow apprentice around her age with whom she forms a powerful bond of love and mutual respect. When these dragons reach adulthood and seek out territories of their own, bonded bronze dragons may lair close together or even share a lair with the intention of breeding together.

As practical, direct dragons, bronze dragons don’t usually engage in anything similar to humanoid marriage. Still, bronze dragons mate for life and hold their mate’s honour in the highest regard, making infidelity of any kind utterly unconscionable. Despite taking pride in their mates, bronze dragons consider matters involving sex and reproduction to be private and therefore not to be spoken of lightly, especially with non-dragons.

When a bronze dragon and her mate do breed, the resultant eggs must have frequent, but not constant, exposure to seawater in order to develop. This is most easily achieved by burying them on the beach between the low and high tide marks. The drawback of such a nesting method is that, being dependent on the sea, a bronze dragon cannot hide her eggs away in the depths of her lair. Still, bronze dragons provide ample protection to their nests by virtue of both parents actively standing guard day and night.

When the eggs hatch, bronze dragons continue to watch over their wyrmlings. Managing a bronze wyrmling is a somewhat difficult affair. While largely obedient to their parents, bronze dragon wyrmlings are boldly driven to begin their quest for justice the moment they hatch out of their eggs, even as they woefully lack knowledge and power. As such, the first few decades of a bronze dragon’s life are usually spent learning law and warfare, only to run off to prove herself and end up in some form of trouble that her parents inevitably have to save her from. Eventually, as the young dragon starts to get some perspective on the limits of their capabilities, her parents allow her to gain practical experience in the enforcement of justice under the guidance of a mentor of several unrelated bronze dragons of similar ages. Typically, this mentor will either be the parent’s old mentor or a friend the parents made in their student days who has not pursued her own reproduction.

While bronze dragons believe in the right of other creatures to live lives of safety and satisfaction, they still consider non-dragons to be vastly inferior to themselves. As such, a bronze dragon will virtually never develop a romantic attraction to a creature that is not another bronze dragon. While capable of reproducing with many creatures, any such sexual interaction is considered beneath a bronze dragon’s honour, unless the need for a bronze half-dragon is extreme.

Men to Bronze Dragons

With their immutable faith in order and distaste for destabilisation, bronze dragons are some of the metallic dragons most openly perturbed by interacting with men. Where men go, disorder follows. Even men who attempt to pursue order and stability, by their very nature, disturb the status quo. What is more, the influence a man has on the local community often causes them to be in direct competition with the bronze dragon.

Existence is not a crime, however, at least by the reasoning of most bronze dragons, so a man is unlikely to receive a bronze dragon’s wrath for merely showing himself. Still, a bronze dragon defaults to intense suspicion when meeting a man. Thanks to her suspicion, a bronze dragon often feels the need to constantly investigate and test a man’s morals. In the guise of an easily ignorable creature, a bronze dragon will stalk a man for every step he takes in her territory. What’s more, she will give him apparent opportunities to commit crimes, posing as a vulnerable potential rape victim or the like. If a man attempts any misdeed under a bronze dragon’s watch, she will punish him to the full extent her personal codex permits.

Sometimes a bronze dragon discovers that, not only is the man not a criminal, but his goals are just and align with her own. On these rare occasions, especially if she doesn’t have a mate to consider, a bronze dragon may find herself in an uncomfortable position, grappling with the potential that she may be attracted to a man. To resolve this issue, a bronze dragon may take a more active role in the man’s life. Taking on a persona as a humanoid mercenary, adventurer, or the like, the bronze dragon approaches the man to propose they work together to accomplish some virtuous goal. Adventuring with the man, the bronze dragon’s aim is hopefully to disgust herself with the idea of having sex with the man or, failing that, to hopefully direct him to becoming a somewhat more honourable and thus less shameful future sexual partner. As such, a disguised bronze dragon is initially completely hostile to sexual advances from her male adventuring companion, only relenting if it becomes clear that absolving herself of her attraction is impossible.

Though humanoid men are resented for their manipulation of the present population, bronze dragons see no fault in a male dragon doing so. After all, bronze dragons believe that positively influencing vast populations of “lesser” creatures is the proscribed purpose of dragons. Specifically for bronze dragons, their purpose is to unite people under the banner of order and justice, as Mohdrun of Dawncastle, the last recorded male bronze dragon to reach adulthood, did to great effect.

Mohdrun was born in a dark, chaotic period of Nymphona’s history, a period that most historians agree Nymphona came closest to its doom, a centuries-long mass demonic incursion known as the Wound.

A young male dragon, already scorned by fate, born in the midst of a full demon colonisation of the Material Plane, many would call Mohdrun’s position doomed. To try and spare him an early death, Mohdrun’s mother hid him away in the cellars of a keep known as Dawncastle, one of the last remaining bastions of good against the abyssal tide. Ironically, these very cellars were the entry point for a band of cultists looking to destroy Dawncastle from within.

Fortunately, these cultists had planned to sneak in and lower the keep's defences from within, letting the demons outside flood in. They had thus entered lightly armed and in small numbers, not at all prepared to meet a male adolescent bronze dragon who had already found their entryway. By the time the sound of cracking lightning drew the garrison into finding his hiding place, there was nothing left of the invading force save one of the most formidable assassins of the time impaled upon his cock, senseless. Through this act of formidable combat prowess and drive to expunge the rampant evil in the world, the forces of good within Dawncastle accepted their stowaway and titled him a Knight of Dawncastle.

As decades passed, Mohdrun’s knowledge and power in warfare grew exponentially, and his ranking rose in accordance. Eventually, Mohdrun became the master of Dawncastle. Though it wasn’t required, practically every resident of the keep volunteered to become part of the dragon’s harem, and from this, many knights and paladins gave birth to formidable half-dragons who went on to become warriors of good in their own right. As the keep’s power and troops grew, they turned the tide on the demon menace. Hiding creatures of good, like other metallic dragons and unicorns, as well as goodly giants and fey, were inspired to make a stand. Many of these individuals became lovers of the dragon too. Even the Upper Planes are said to have taken notice of Mohdrun’s actions, causing his army, and some say also his harem, to be graced by a heavenly host.

Led by Mohdrun, the forces of good did ultimately triumph over the demons, banishing them and sealing the rifts that first let them through. The world saved, Mohdrun returned to Dawncastle to rest. With the sheer number of people enamoured with him, a city of willing lovers cropped up around his home, a city known today as Dawnport.

The people of Dawnport had first wanted Mohdrun to rule them as their king. Having seen the evil that can arise when people put their lives in the hands of a being far more powerful than themselves, Mohdrun’s first action as king was to call for the selection of the first of Dawnport’s elected ruling governors and abdicate at the instant of her appointment. Still, he retained some responsibility. For his ability to watch over and care for the wellbeing of the people in an almost noticed state thanks to shapeshifting, Mohdrun was named Dawnport’s Shadow Governor, a title that has since been inherited by several bronze, silver, and gold dragons, all descended from Mohdrun’s many fully draconic children.

Chapter 88: Copper Dragon (Art)

At rest, a copper dragon’s face, with distinct brow plates that extend into horns, looks thoughtful and reserved. More often than not, however, a copper dragon contorts these features into a broad smile of amusement. Her scales, starting off a reddish brown, gradually gain a metallic coppery sheen as she ages; even as the turquoise of her eyes becomes so bold, it almost glows, like windows to the midday sky.

Preferring to lair in mountains and hills, copper dragons are sometimes known as the people's dragons. Not only do copper dragons tend to live in places around which humans and other races like to settle, but since copper dragons gain the ability to shapeshift much later than many other metallic dragons, they are most often seen flying overhead in their true forms. As well as the frequency of their sightings, copper dragons also get their name for their good humour, fondness for stories, and exceptional hosting abilities.

Artful Pranksters

Compared to other dragons, copper dragons are sometimes called weak. Though copper dragons are generally less muscular and devastating than more aggressive dragons, it is a mistake to underestimate any dragon, especially if their scales depict a copper hue. Not only is the relative weakness of individual kinds of dragons a moot point for most humanoids foolish enough to do battle with them, but even formidable opponents like roving bands of hill giants and physically stronger red dragons are often bested by the humble copper dragon.

Along with claws and breath of fearsomely corrosive fluid, a copper dragon brims with a devious intellect when it comes to misdirection. If a copper dragon feels threatened or insulted, they seek not to destroy their foe but to utterly humiliate them. Assailants often find themselves swinging at illusions, tripping in mud, and generally making utter fools of themselves before they even get close to the dragon herself. From her mouth, in place of caustic acid, a copper dragon can produce a gas that interferes with a victim’s sense of time, dulling their reaction speed until they can only amble around while the dragon appears to run rings around them.

Many less intelligent creatures may spend days or even weeks slogging through trick after trick, not realising the dragon is sending them around in circles for her amusement. Smarter, more prideful foes, such as chromatic dragons, may be inspired to give a copper dragon a wide berth, even if they think they could beat her, out of fear for the terrible wound to their ego and reputation her victory would be.

Treasuring Guests

For all their skill in humiliation, copper dragons are rarely mean-spirited of their own accord. So long as one doesn’t try to rob or harm her, a copper dragon tends to be really quite friendly. One can expect a copper dragon to pull one or two harmless ruses or send one on a wild goose chase, as is her nature, but a copper dragon is equally filled with jokes, riddles, and fascinating tales, all of which most copper dragons are talented at telling. Still, despite their own talents, copper dragons love to hear what others have to say and enjoy the social graces of others.

When she meets a particularly interesting individual, a copper dragon may invite them to stay at her lair for a while. Top among her picks are often bards, in order to engage them in friendly battles of wits, hear stories of their adventures, and listen to their beautiful music. Lairing in caves within hills, copper dragons often keep and furnish specific chambers for guests to stay in. Copper dragons are by no means servile, but they make for pleasant company and care for the comfort of new friends who have opted to stay with them for a while. Despite rumours to the contrary, few copper dragons hold their guests against their will, letting them come and go when they please.

As well as the array of friends and interesting people they house and oversee for a time, copper dragons also have more classic treasures. As laid back as a copper dragon is, it may be no surprise that a copper dragon has fairly simple tastes in treasure; ores, precious metals, and gems are all staples of a copper dragon’s lair.

For all their friendliness, copper dragons are still dragons and can be incredibly protective of their hoard. The treasures in the “public” areas of a copper dragon’s lair, the parts the dragon expects to host guests in, are more often than not worthless: glass gems and plated base metal placed as bait for well-hidden traps. The copper dragon’s real treasure will be in the deeper, maze-like mess of tunnels that make her inner lair, a lair she recalls the structure of intimately.

Likewise, if an adventurer comes along and requests a specific item from her hoard, the copper dragon will usually pretend she doesn’t have it. If it suits her current whims, a copper dragon often claims that, though she does not own the treasure, she knows where it is, thus sending the hapless treasure hunter on a pointless quest. A copper dragon may do this even when she understands and agrees that the treasure must be given up for the greater good, for the entertainment of seeing the adventurer fall for the trick goes some way towards lessening the pain of giving up her treasure.

Sex and Sexuality Among Copper Dragons.

Even though copper dragons are so incredibly powerful, the way they go about making relationships in which they may produce offspring is similar to that of many humanoids. Copper dragons mate only when they are in love, and copper dragons fall in love with copper dragons that captivate them, understand them, and make them laugh. Copper dragons who are in love may move their territories closer together or even share a territory and a lair, but that is usually sufficient. The oaths and social difficulties of a ritual akin to marriage are usually too restrictive for the free spirits that copper dragons contain.

When a pair of copper dragons get together, it is very possible that they will pair for life. It is just as likely, however, that the dragons will part amicably after a clutch or two or break up in a furious row that shakes the hills and countryside around them. Copper dragons aren’t known for their long grudges or sentiments, however, so one who has been abandoned by her mate may find another in only a few decades. Copper dragons rarely feel compelled to put much energy into finding a mate, however; they are more comfortable just waiting for love to find them.

While in a relationship, copper dragons seem to adore one another, playing with one another like young cats and flirting quite boldly, regardless of the audience. Indeed, copper dragons are rather free-spirited when it comes to sex, trying a great deal of different sexual activities and discussing these activities with mere acquaintances without a hint of shame or restraint.

When a pregnancy is achieved, the eggs are laid in a mixture of mud and their mother’s acidic breath to aid in their development and protect them, since few egg thieves are interested in taking a dip into corrosive slurry. When the eggs hatch, the wyrmlings stay in their parents' care and education for a decade or two before heading out to find their own way.

Thanks to their willingness to approach humanoids as individuals in order to learn their stories, copper dragons do, on occasion, find themselves attracted to a particular person. Unlike many dragons, copper dragons are rarely ashamed to realise they have fallen for a so-called “lesser creature” and will be very open about their feelings if they do. A copper dragon in love with a humanoid approaches them with the subject just as they would another copper dragon, inviting them to live in her lair with her as her lover or bride, though she is often a lot more confident than she would be making such a proposal to another dragon, assuming that, by her comparative greatness, her feelings are naturally reciprocated.

When a copper dragon establishes a romantic or sexual relationship with a non-draconic creature, it is more often for emotive reasons than any reproductive instinct. As such, a copper dragon will only produce half-dragon or dragon sorceress offspring with her lover if that appears to be what is desired by them. While a copper dragon does care about her non-dragon offspring to a slight extent, she doesn’t invest nearly as much time or energy into them as she would a true wyrmling.

Men to Copper Dragons

Thanks to the natural distrust dragons have for them, men can expect any female copper dragon they encounter to always be somewhat guarded around them, at least to start. At the same time, however, female copper dragons know that men, by their very nature, live unique and fascinating lives—lives they are intrigued by. What wins out in these duelling interests generally depends on a copper dragon’s age and life experience. As a copper dragon ages, her curiosity gives way to greater caution, and she becomes gradually less interested in risking interaction with a man.

Regardless of their age, however, moral behaviour, heroic actions, and a friendly countenance can quickly chip away at a copper dragon’s distrust. Hard to fool and trusting of their observations, a copper dragon who can be persuaded that a man is a good person is normally quick to put her suspicion away and take the opportunity to investigate a man. A man who is reasonably compliant with this curiosity may even win the right to call the dragon his friend.

When interacting with a man she trusts to respect her boundaries, a copper dragon can be surprisingly candid and flirtatious, knowing it is an easy way to keep a man’s attention. Still, a copper dragon is firm and clear with exactly how far she’s willing to go to keep a man’s interest, normally keeping sex firmly off the table. Only a man who is both incredibly lucky and charismatic is likely to sway a copper dragon into letting him fuck her.

Just as wit and charisma are the keys to charming a female copper dragon, they were also the main tools of Raviladar the Charming, the last recorded male copper dragon to reach a great age or prominence. According to legend, Raviladar’s territory stretched for miles in all directions, containing many towns and villages. As is typical of male dragons, Raviladar eventually found himself able to fuck every single female creature in his land, every person, every monster, and every small beast. Uniquely, however, Raviladar went out of his way to know each of his lovers by name, and instead of winning their consent by awe alone, Raviladar reached out one by one to win each of his lovers' hearts, gaining their love and loving each and every one of them in return.

While this social feat is itself immense, some dragons look down on Raviladar. Unlike many of the other legendary male dragons, Raviladar never had a kingdom of worshipers, nor did he conquer. While opponents to this dissention praise Raviladar for his exceptional care for the women who loved him, there is one notable battle to his name: his victory against Agonnontros the Manslayer.

Agonnontros was a formidable female red dragon. Several centuries Raviladar’s senior, Agonnontros earned her epithet through a ruthless campaign to kill one young dragon of every colour. She almost succeeded, viciously overwhelming juvenile after juvenile until she came to her final dragon kind. Seeking only a male copper dragon, Agonnontros set her sights on Raviladar.

Thankfully for the copper dragon, he had spies and informants in the form of small animals that warned him of Agonnontros’ approach. With time to prepare, Raviladar met Agonnontros in his lair. As the red dragon approached, Raviladar cautioned his guest that a glowing river of lava between them would burn her to a crisp. Being a fiery red dragon, Agonnontros had no fear of lava, but she did not trust that her prey was stupid enough not to know that. She thus avoided the trap by climbing the stone wall.

However, Raviladar had anticipated this caution and used magic to transform the stone into mud, plunging the Manslayer into the glowing river. Of course, Raviladar had not installed a moat of actual lava in his home for this fight. Instead, the river was formed of tar, covered by an illusion. Pulling herself free from the pit, Agonnontros lunged at the young dragon in front of her. However, the dragon she saw before her was no true dragon but again an illusion, this time covering a great stack of down pillows that promptly burst under her claws. Fuming, confused, and subjected to the first tar and feathering in recorded history, Agonnontros’ sure victory swiftly turned in her prey's favour, forcing her to flee in shame.

Oddly, later records of Raviladar the Charming also mention Agonnontros, not as his foe but as his lover and primary mate. Records of how this astounding turn of events came to be have yet to be found, but many copper dragons simply attribute it to Raviladar’s legendary charm. According to some, the union of Raviladar and Agonnontros created its own whole new breed of dragon. Though many dismiss this idea of their existence as a myth or a joke copper dragons keep alive to infuriate red dragons, people (especially men) search to this day for the elusive, lustful, and submissive pink dragon.

Notes:

Big thanks to Draw&Nap for the art in this chapter. Check them out on Twitter/X https://twitter.com/draw_nap

Chapter 89: Gold Dragon

Reclusive and wise, gold dragons live the world over, lairing wherever they are needed, though they do like to live in and near bodies of water. Most of the time, a gold dragon passes by in a disguise beneath notice, but in her true form, a gold dragon may fly on her two sail-like wings, which taper all the way down her body to let her slither through the air with consummate ease. A young gold dragon hatches with dull yellow scales, flecked with gold. As the dragon ages, these fecks grow until they form the scale’s entire gleaming tone. At the same time, a gold dragon grows a set of whiskers, like the barbels of a catfish, which help to portray her long years of experience, as shown also by the gleam of her fathomless golden eyes.

Preventative Protectors

On the rare occasion one is to meet a gold dragon in her true form, they will see her as a dragon of various small habits. A gold dragon may stroke her barbels while she ponders a guest’s words for a while; she may stretch or scratch herself in times of calm; she may even show signs of failing memory, asking to be reminded of minor details and people’s names. Almost all of these actions are performative, done so often that they are almost second nature to the dragon, done for her “lesser” allies’ benefit, to help them forget that, at her core, a gold dragon is a fearsome predator who could, at her option, at any time, erase them in a gout of dragon fire.

Feigned foibles or not, a gold dragon rarely poses any true threat to innocent or even misguidedly aggressive creatures. If a gold dragon has to defend herself, she usually prefers to breathe a gas that harmlessly saps her foes’ strength, preventing them from pursuing her as she takes her leave. More often, however, a gold dragon avoids trouble all together by disguising herself as easily ignored animals and humble people like beggars and peddlers of simple wares.

It is also in these disguises that gold dragons do the bulk of their work to better the world. Like most metallic dragons, gold dragons are dedicated to the quest of eradicating evil and championing the side of good. However, gold dragons know that grand crusades and overt exercises of good’s power can cause an awful lot of harm along with the good they bring. As such, gold dragons prefer to take smaller steps towards their goals.

With remarkable insight and the ability to spy as a literal fly on the wall (though gold dragons typically prefer more wholesome creatures like dragonflies, butterflies, and canaries), a gold dragon can see the seeds of evil fester within a soul years before their schemes begin to take hold. Thanks to this, a gold dragon can prepare far in advance to either thwart the evil of a villain or even turn them away from the path of darkness. Most such missions are delegated to adventurers, with the gold dragon disguising herself as a paying benefactor for a quest or a random passerby with “rumours” to share.

As well as crushing evil in small steps, gold dragons also look for little ways to help the cause of good. In humanoid guise, a gold dragon may offer subtle wisdom to well-meaning individuals and patronise honest businesses. In the form of an animal like a cat or a canary, a gold dragon may provide companionship to a lonesome child, a wandering traveller, or an ageing innkeeper. Though none of these actions may seem powerful on their own, over a gold dragon’s long life, the trickle-down effects of her kindness can influence whole realms.

A gold dragon’s caution stems not only from shyness but also from a difficult balancing act she must perform. At all times, a gold dragon must make sure that her efforts to better the world do not overstep into the manipulation of innocent lives. A gold dragon knows that many humanoids have too much to deal with in their own immediate lives to reasonably be expected to consider their position in the battle between good and evil, and even well-intentioned people can occasionally act in selfish, improper ways. While these issues frustrate a god dragon, she knows that it is seldom enough to warrant direct, unrequested interference.

A gold dragon thus thinks long and hard before involving herself in the affairs of other creatures. If a gold dragon is unsure if her intercedence is just or how she should interfere, she may confer with her neighbours. If the matter has wide-ranging consequences, such as the fate of a kingdom being in the balance, a gold dragon may reach out to the Queen of Justice. This wise and venerated gold dragon, chosen by acclamation to rule until her death or abdication, serves as the ruler of all gold dragons and, to a lesser extent, all metallic dragons on the Material Plane. Where the current Queen of Justice resides and her identity are secrets known only to the gold dragons and the most loyal of her other draconic subjects.

Mystic Vaults

Gold dragons are incredibly secretive creatures; despite the fact they can make their home in nearly any environment, one will almost never find a god dragon’s lair unless she wants it to be found. Usually at the bottom of lakes or behind waterfalls, a gold dragon hides her lair further with magic, the entrance existing behind an illusion or a stone wall that sculpts itself into an open passageway at her command.

With long, solitary lives, gold dragons often spend time dedicating themselves to the practise and perfection of wizardry. As such, magic hangs heavy in a gold dragon’s lair, growing only more overt as one gets deeper. Crystal panes may show the view of a far-off vista, and a starry sky may glitter where there is supposed to be a ceiling of rock. Through a gold dragon’s territory, banks of opalescent mist may roll, assuming haunting shapes to warn the dragon when danger approaches. A gold dragon’s lair is often maze-like, with many chambers dedicated to various magical arts. Scrying rooms, portal hubs, and vast libraries are all common features of an established gold dragon’s lair.

Of course, most of the magic is dedicated to the defence of the gold dragon’s lair and her treasure. For the most part, a gold dragon’s lair cannot be scried or located by magical means. If one finds themselves within a gold dragon’s lair without her invitation, they will find spells laced within every nook and cranny designed to ward against intruders and expel them. As such, few people have laid eyes upon a gold dragon’s vast treasure.

A gold dragon not only keeps treasure to satisfy her draconic desire to have it but also to sate a much more fundamental need: hunger. While gold dragons can eat nearly anything, a gold dragon’s preferred diet consists of pearls and gemstones. A gold dragon on this diet thankfully doesn’t need to eat much on this diet to be satisfied; only a human handful will sate her hunger for weeks. If one is knowingly visiting a gold dragon, it is normally wise to bring a few pearls and jewels for her to snack on as a gift. However, while gifts are graciously accepted by gold dragons, a gold dragon is inflexible in her morals and takes a dim view indeed at attempts to bribe her.

As well as the treasure she can eat, gold dragons also adore treasure with knowledge locked within, particularly magical knowledge. Tomes, spell books, staves, wands, and all manner of other enchanted items are happily collected by gold dragons, who then proceed to study each and every one in turn, endeavouring to learn all she can from each in order to advance her wisdom.

If one were to find their way to the deepest parts of a gold dragon’s lair, they would likely make several shocking discoveries. Behind the gleaming gems and magical curiosities, most gold dragons have a few of the vilest artefacts known to mortals. Weapons that may kill thousands if unleashed, grimoires of foul rituals, and powerful fiends bound inside seductive treasures all gather dust in a gold dragon’s most secure holdings. With supreme will and duty towards good, a gold dragon is virtually never seduced by the objects of evil within her hoard, and, under her watch, none of them will see the light of day again.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gold Dragons

Like many decisions in their lives, a gold dragon takes her decision on finding a mate very seriously indeed. A gold dragon will think long and hard about whether she has the time to produce offspring and who she trusts to share in the responsibility. Gold dragons who have decided they are ready to find a mate begin to communicate this fact among their neighbours, who may well live miles away.

Communicating first through magic and messengers, a pair of gold dragons who seem to get along may meet in person, usually in disguise, and spend some time together, typically questing against evil and supporting works of good as they get to know each other. This process of familiarisation can take decades, and it may take several such pairings for a gold dragon to find an appropriate mate. Gold dragons are loathe to rush this process, however, for their final decision can alter their entire lives.

When a pair of gold dragons are entirely confident that they wish to be each other’s mate, the bond is for life. Two dragons who have made this decision are required to show themselves to the Queen of Justice, who will give her accent and bind the pair in an Oath of Concord. Akin in many ways to a humanoid marriage, the Oath of Concord requires the dragons taking it to swear before the Queen of Justice that they will take each other as their true mates for life, that they will endeavour to produce offspring together and aid each other in the offspring’s upbringing, and finally, that as long as they both shall live, neither will take another female mate.

Even when so bound, gold dragons enjoy their solitude, so most of the time, they elect to spend their lives apart in their own lair, miles away from each other. Still, paired gold dragons communicate frequently via magic or messengers and will, every so often, come together to spend time in each other’s company and possibly mate. As with most things in their lives, gold dragons are secretive about sex and tend to only have it in the depths of their lair, where there can be no prying eyes.

When gold dragons are impregnated and ready to lay, their eggs must be kept in boiling water to develop correctly. Many gold dragons seek out geothermal springs in which to lay, flying great distances or constructing portals to find them if none are nearby. Others raise their eggs within their lair, in a cauldron or similar vessel kept boiling by magic or a bonfire. Traditionalists apparently look down on this latter method, considering it to be poor parenting.

When a gold dragon wyrmling hatches, her parents take her in and begin a strict regimen of education combined with tender affection. Within the first decade of a wyrmling’s life, she is brought by her parents to meet the Queen of Justice so that she may know her liege and understand her place relative to them. At anywhere from ten to thirty years of age, a young gold dragon announces her desire to find her own place in the world to her parents and her queen before taking flight. Most young gold dragons are nomadic, only settling down somewhere after two or three centuries of life, at which point she will again contact the Queen of Justice, alerting her to her territorial claim.

Though gold dragons spend much time hidden among people, it is rare for a gold dragon to mate with humanoid women. If a gold dragon is bound by an Oath of Concord, they are expressly forbidden from such a union, but even without it, most gold dragons dislike sharing such intimacy with such short-lived creatures. If a gold dragon does have half-dragon offspring, she rarely acts as a true parent to them. Instead, she watches over them from afar, giving her child guidance on how to be the best she can be through the subtle influence of a stranger.

Men to Gold Dragons

Intensely interested in fairness and justice for all and perfectly capable of introspection, many gold dragons look within themselves and realise that their natural bias against men is unfair. As such, gold dragons attempt to stay away from men, watching only closely enough to react should they show signs of rapacious intent towards somebody or some other form of evil.

Unfortunately, many of the most vital events in the world end up hinging on men, so if a gold dragon wants to avert disaster or elicit benevolence, she may have to advise and otherwise interact with a man from time to time. During these interactions, gold dragons try to remain strictly professional, forgiving but not returning any flirtations a man offers.

Sometimes a gold dragon will suggest she may be willing to fuck a man if he performs an action of significant good. This sometimes gets misconstrued as an exchange, sex for heroism, but gold dragons do not whore themselves out so. Instead, a gold dragon makes this offer because she sees a beautiful potential for great things within a man, so while he is clearly physically capable of fucking her, he needs to prove his moral worth to validate her burgeoning attraction. If a gold dragon cannot at least picture enjoying sex with a man, she will not offer the possibility.

Interestingly, thanks to its wording, paired gold dragons can fuck a man if they so choose without breaking their Oath of Concord, though they do not often. Many men arrogantly believe that this loophole in the Oath of Concord was put in place for their benefit. However, the omission of any mention concerning the taking of male mates was put in place long ago by the oath’s first officiator, the King of Justice.

Little is known of the King of Justice except that he was a male gold dragon who lived tens of thousands of years ago and that he may have been the first mortal dragon to ever be either male or metallic. According to the legends gold dragons tell to this day, the King of Justice’s dedication to both order and benevolence made him a rock to which many dragons clung in the days of disorder, when all dragons were at risk of being turned into the malevolent monsters chromatic dragons are today by their greed and arrogance.

As well as a great leader and moral champion, however, the King of Justice was also a male of prolific sexual appetites. According to his words in the Oath of Concord, female dragons could dedicate their lives to each other while still feeling the blessings of his cock when they desired. The King of Justice did not stop at dragons, however. It is said that the King of Justice fucked an instance of every creature to live on the Material Plane at least once, though this may be hyperbole. As the King of Justice reached his final years and his harem spanned the world, it is said Bahamut herself came down to mate with him. Some say the King of Justice thus lives still, upon the slopes of Mount Celestia, as Bahamut’s mate, waiting for the day he will be called to return.

Chapter 90: Silver Dragon

Of noble and beautiful form, a silver dragon looks, from her body-length frill to her dexterous claws, to be one marvellous silver statue. A silver dragon’s scales, instead of being great shields as many dragons bear, are small and fine, creating an almost imperceptibly smooth hide that is still as tough as steel. Within a silver dragon’s eyes are silver mirrors, in which an observer may see themselves reflected near-perfectly.

However, to call this well-known shape a silver dragon’s true shape is about as accurate as to call the peaks of mountains and other high domains a silver dragon’s preferred home. While this is the form and kind of location that a silver dragon prefers to build her lair, store her treasure, and conduct her other draconic business, it is not where and how she chooses to spend much of her life, preferring to live as and among humanoids.

Humanoid Performance

When a silver dragon reaches adulthood and develops the ability to change form, most silver dragons will take the opportunity to put on a humanoid, normally human, disguise and venture down from the mountains to investigate local human settlements. To begin with, a silver dragon usually only poses as passersby, adventurers, merchants, and vagabonds, for instance. In this guise, a silver dragon offers help to people she meets but also learns all she can about the local community. In only a few visits, a silver dragon learns the basic framework of a neighbourhood so that the next time she visits, she can insert herself into local affairs without ruffling too many feathers.

As time goes on, a silver dragon, in many roles, spends longer and longer in a town or city until, finally, one of her guises moves in and becomes a fully-fledged member of society. When a silver dragon becomes part of the community, she seeks neither to rule nor to serve but only to take pleasure in observing and being a part of mortal lives. As such, the ideal roles for a silver dragon tend to be those of humble business owners. A silver dragon may take on the role of an innkeeper or run a general store. From her vast repository of experience, a silver dragon may make a capable minstrel or teacher, or else she may learn the skills to take up one of any number of trades. Regardless of her role, however, a disguised silver dragon always presents herself as kind, helpful, and friendly, quickly making herself an adored pillar of the community.

Most silver dragons enjoy their humble popularity, but it does pose some problems for them, particularly concerning their long lives. As the years pass, a silver dragon barely feels the weight of time on her shoulders, but in order not to raise suspicion, she must gradually age her humanoid form’s features, adding wrinkles and greying hair to match the expectations of her neighbours. Eventually, when a persona’s believed age crosses the threshold from fortunate to suspicious, it must be retired, with the individual vanishing from the community and the dragon starting again as a new person.

More tragically, from the dragon’s perspective, are the short lifespans of their humanoid friends, especially if they are of a short-lived race like humans. Unlike her persona’s aging, real humanoids are not being performative and can all too soon pass away. It is for this reason that silver dragons learn to become attached to families rather than individuals. That way, the death of a single person still saddens a silver dragon, but so long as they have a positive legacy in the world, it is no longer a tragedy. Despite the sadness that bonding with them inevitably entails, silver dragons have a particular fondness for humans and other short-lived races. A lesser lifespan apparently creates in humans a sense of proactivity that dragons and other long-lived beings like dwarves and elves struggle to create within themselves, and silver dragons admire greatly.

This inordinate fondness of humans not only encourages silver dragons to live among them but also their lives when living as dragons. While the primary requirement for a silver dragon’s lair is altitude, a silver dragon will also, if at all possible, choose to build her lair upon human construction, in the ruins of a mountain keep or in the caves beneath an isolated monastery, for example. Within her lair, a silver dragon hoards many pieces of human history, from the affects and remains of ancient queens to artwork, relocated monoliths, and clockwork or arcane prototypes of inventions that boggle the mind, all laid among mounds and mounds of coins, each pile minted on a specific date and printed with imagery their craftswomen found significant.

Benevolent Homebodies

Like all metallic dragons, virtually all silver dragons are fundamentally bound to the side of good. Despite this, silver dragons rarely venture out with the specific goal of rooting out evil. This is most certainly not out of incapability; if she or her friends are threatened, a silver dragon can take on her true form in an instant, launching a breath upon the foes that may immobilise them for a time or freeze them to their core. Instead, silver dragons believe that while evil should not be submitted to, the cause of good is better advanced by fostering goodness on a local level.

Instead of directly demanding good behaviour as a dictator, silver dragons prefer to lead by example, showing mercy, hospitality, and empathy and the rewards they can bring. Though a run-down, less than morally upstanding locale changes only gradually by these methods, a silver dragon is long-lived enough to see it take place. As such, many silver dragons become incredibly proud of their community and tend to develop a philosophy that many other metallic dragons find outrageous.

The philosophy of silver dragons goes as follows: For a metallic dragon, goodness is an inborn trait. Only through an extreme disruption to their normal lives can a metallic dragon become evil, just as only a similarly odd scenario can make a chromatic dragon turn good. As such, any good act done by a metallic dragon may be considered to be at least partially reflexive as opposed to an intentional betterment of the world.

On the other hand, many humanoids, particularly humans, have no particular moral leaning built into them. Despite this, in the absence of an overbearing draw to evil, such as a violent upbringing or cultural indoctrination, many humanoids voluntarily perform morally. Unlike metallic dragons, humanoids actively do good by choice rather than nature, making many silver dragons consider humans to be morally superior.

Sex and Sexuality Among Silver Dragons

While living among people, silver dragons become incredibly familiar with the personalities and preferences of all their neighbours. As such, a silver dragon’s mind swiftly develops a detailed social map within her mind. In this map, a silver dragon often notices individuals who would greatly enjoy one another’s company. This drives the dragon to attempt to bring them together. While a silver dragon knows and respects that love cannot be forced, she will use her insight and social influence to engineer chance encounters, social events, and other situations where compatible individuals can meet and get to know each other. For a silver dragon, seeing a pair of humanoids fall in love and have children thanks to her influence is a treasure in and of itself.

As much as silver dragons like to live among and socialise with humanoids, however, they also must spend some time among their own kind. By draconic standards, silver dragons are some of the most social dragons to exist. Every silver dragon knows and stays in contact with her immediate family at the very least, and she gets to know several other silver dragons besides. To maintain these relationships, a silver dragon must slip away from her community from time to time to meet and socialise with other silver dragons. This socialisation normally only lasts a few days or tendays, but may on occasion take the silver dragon away from her home settlement for so long that her human friends pass away and the community has undergone drastic change. One of the most common sources of these long departures is the finding of a mate and the production of offspring.

When two silver dragons hit it off and fall in love, they solidify their relationship by spending time together. Often this time is spent in disguise, with a pair of courting silver dragons posing as a humanoid married couple, business partners, siblings, or any other duo who are justified in spending so much time together. Silver dragons are also some of the dragons who most enjoy having sex in humanoid form; while other dragons do it only when there is no other choice or for the convenience of a non-draconic mate, silver dragons will fuck in their human form for fun, even trying out different forms for excitement. While a pair may court for decades, silver dragons cannot experience the fullness of their relationships without making their exit from humanoid society for a while. After all, it will take over a century for their offspring to become able to shapeshift.

Before any true mating can take place, it is customary for silver dragons to introduce their mates to their parents and receive their consent. This consent is virtually always given unless there is a solid reason not to allow it. With approval received, the couple gives before their families a modified version of the Oath of Concord.

For the most part, the silver dragon’s Oath of Concord is much like the one given by gold dragons; the only major difference is the length of time the oath remains valid for. For gold dragons, the Oath of Concord is a promise for all their long lives that they will never have a female mate besides the one they have selected by their oath; for silver dragons, the oath promises dedication and faithfulness until such a time as a single clutch has been raised to independence. Once a silver dragon’s offspring leave the nest, she and her mate may choose to renew their oath for another clutch; on the other hand, a pair of silver dragons may just as easily part amicably and seek new mates.

Secured by their oath, a pair of silver dragons may mate. In order to develop properly, a silver dragon’s eggs require low temperatures and thin air, virtually necessitating that the parents retreat to a mountaintop to raise their eggs. On hatching, silver dragon wyrmlings learn the history of the surrounding lands as well as a variety of other subjects like mathematics, science, literature, and the arts. At around thirty years of age, the young dragon leaves home and begins securing for herself a lair and the beginnings of a hoard before her ability to shapeshift manifests, and she becomes somewhat distracted by living humanoid lives.

Between oaths and cutches, silver dragons are often approached romantically or sexually by humanoids, thanks to their popularity. Most of the time, these feelings are not reciprocated, so the dragon does her best to put the women down gently. Sometimes, however, a silver dragon does find herself attracted to a humanoid and will pursue a relationship with her. While a silver dragon is a caring and loving partner to her human lover, these relationships are seen as little more than recreation from the perspective of other dragons, with the sliver dragon being expected to seek out “proper” relationships when the humanoid dies. One aspect that silver dragons do hesitate on is impregnating their humanoid partners, or letting themselves be impregnated. Through form or innate magic, the offspring a silver dragon has with a humanoid will always hint at her true identity. As such, silver dragons avoid breeding with their humanoid lovers and never do so without coming clean about who they are first. Compared to other dragons, silver dragons are also fairly attentive to their half-dragon offspring.

Men to Silver Dragons

In the eyes of a silver dragon, a visiting man poses a fundamental threat to the stability of her community. At the same time, however, a silver dragon recognises that a man is not inherently evil. Therefore, a silver dragon watches a man closely. If he engages in overtly evil acts such as attempted rape, the dragon will step in and eliminate the threat he poses as quietly as she can.

However, if a man is not a villain, she deals with his disruption through her favoured method, social engineering. Just as a silver dragon’s understanding of her local community lets her find compatible couples, it also reveals to her which citizens are sluts, closeted or otherwise, and which have a true distaste for men. With this knowledge, a silver dragon subtly directs a man towards the former and away from the latter. When it comes to herself, a silver dragon’s draconic pride normally places her among the camp that would rather have nothing to do with a man. Only an incredibly moral and charming male could possibly persuade a silver dragon to lay with him.

For significant impact from a silver dragon male, one must look back to Ralthordes, the Last King of the North, also known as the Alehouse King or simply the Ale King. Little is known of Ralthordes’ youth, for, like most silver dragons, he came into the public light only in the years after fate kills most male dragons, after unlocking the secrets of shapeshifting.

At the beginning of his time, Ralthordes was known to humanity as Ralhon, a human man with white hair and grey eyes who likely only entered the public record for his unique masculinity. For a man, Ralhon was certainly unusual in many ways. To start with, Ralhon seemed to lack the restlessness that drives most humanoid men to leave home and wander. Instead, Ralhon appeared in a northern village called Meadholm, whose exact location is now contested, and founded an inn of which he became the proprietor. The inn became incredibly successful, not only for Ralhon’s talent with customers and sharp business acumen, but also for the many, many women who sought to fuck him. This led into his second oddity. For years, the man Ralhon turned down every potential lover that came to his bar, displaying what looked to be a complete disinterest in sex.

For many, Ralhon was a mystery, one that would only be solved in the face of imminent disaster. When a great horde of orcs thundered down the mountains and threatened to flatten Meadholm, Ralhon was forced to take on his true form in front of his friends and neighbours. As Ralthordes the dragon, he descended on the invading orcs, assisted with a small horde of his own, the myriad half-dragon beasts and monsters he had sired while sating his barely contained lust. As the orcs were routed, Ralthordes believed he would never be accepted as a member of the village again. Yet he had made an impression on his home, not only by saving them from the orcs, but by the years he had spent befriending them and upholding the community, human or dragon, Ralthordes would always be their Ralhon.

As it turned out, however, the attack on Meadholm had only been the tip of a great invasion of orcs about to flood the north in the coming centuries. As time went on, city states that struggled to hold off the invaders began to hear legends of a small town that went virtually untouched by the orcs thanks to the ever-growing numbers of dragon-blooded warriors who walked its streets. In desperation, these great nations sought Meadholm’s alliance, and thus a great nation was born, centred around one dragon and his inn. Soon it was made official, and as the tide turned against the orcs, the north realised that they needed a leader with power, foresight, wisdom, and personal charm to hold itself together. Virtually all turned to Ralthordes, who, after a lot of persuasion, graciously accepted the title of king.

Though the north has again fallen into multiple squabbling city states, many individuals who live there still consider the long-dead Ralthordes as their king, offering declarations such as “By the Ale King!” or “How in the king’s alehouse?” in his memory. Many who have attempted to conquer the north have found that the hardy folk who live up there will accept none short of their Ralhon to rule them.

Chapter 91: Dragon Turtle

While true dragons primarily rule the land and air, a singular distant offshoot of the family has found its place ruling over the waves. Measuring around thirty feet from nose to tail, a dragon turtle, in all honesty, looks more akin to the second part of its name than the first, thanks to its winglessness and great shell, thick enough to deflect even ballista fire.

However, a dragon turtle is no placid seagrass muncher like the smaller sea creatures they resemble. A dragon turtle is a voracious predator, equipped with the pride and power of a dragon. In combat, a dragon turtle can devastate her foes with her pated tail, stout claws, and devastating toothed beak, or even unleash a gout of blistering steam from her mouth, boiling prey alive.

Draconic Pirates

Just like true dragons, dragon turtles are filled with an insatiable lust for treasure. Dragon turtles are also unfussed by the method by which they get their treasure. The most common way a dragon turtle attains what it wants is by going after merchant ships. With her enormous size, a dragon turtle rarely fights through the ship's crew and instead simply swims up underneath the vessel and bites holes in the hull, causing the ship to sink.

As the crew flees on lifeboats or bits of wreckage, a dragon turtle rarely goes after them. Unlike other dragons who are willing to attack people for their treasure, a dragon turtle has no malice towards them. A dragon turtle is merely filled with greed for material wealth and is coldly ambivalent about the wellbeing of the individuals that she robs in the process. Dragon turtles don’t even eat people unless they are particularly hungry, much preferring a diet of fish, sharks, whales, and sea birds shot from the sky by their steam breath.

With a ship sunk, the dragon turtle dives after it and begins to tear apart the wreckage with her claws. Unlike many true dragons, a dragon turtle cares little for an item’s artistic value, with only the treasure’s material value being of interest. As such, gold, pearls, and gemstones are a dragon turtle’s bread and butter, with magic items and historical artefacts being less attractive but still worth hoarding regardless.

Carrying her treasure in a specialised crop, the dragon turtle brings it back to her lair. A dragon turtle typically lairs in a vast underwater cave of some sort. Where exactly this cave lies depends largely on the environment within her territory. Nearer to the coast, a dragon turtle’s cave may open to a beautiful coral reef; further out to sea, a dragon turtle may make her home in a deep ocean trench, her treasure illuminated only by bioluminescent jellyfish and the like. Regardless of its location, a dragon turtle’s lair represents the place in which she stores her vast horde, one she will fight to the end to protect. If a better location is found, however, a dragon turtle will move in, slaying any existing occupants as necessary.

Buyable Privateers

Compared to many true dragons, dragon turtles are not all that intelligent. Still, they aren’t truly bestial and can speak Draconic and, usually, Aquan, the primary language of most aquatic beings, if compelled to do so. As mentioned, dragon turtles rarely hold any truly violent intentions towards other intelligent creatures, besides relieving them of their valuables. As such, a dragon turtle can, to an extent, be reasoned with.

Many crews, be they pirate, merchant, or naval, have reached an accord with their local dragon turtle, offering her a tribute of treasure in exchange for the right to pass through her territory unscathed. For many dragon turtles, this reliable stream of valuables comes to be a very pleasant experience, as does the praise and respect that is often offered with it. Sometimes, this praise prompts them to take a more active interest in the communities offering tribute to her, and, over time, she may come to demand their worship too. It is therefore not unheard of for a dragon turtle to be treated as the incarnation of Umberlee or some other sea goddess, maintaining her followers' worship by performing such miracles as the destruction of incoming pirate fleets and shoals of steamed fish being blasted onto shore from time to time.

Usually, a dragon turtle does not protect and aid people selflessly, but because she enjoys the rewards that her help nets her. If she stands to gain more treasure and admiration by less moral means, a dragon turtle will most certainly do so. For example, many cruel and violent creatures, such as sahuagin, merrow, kuo-toa, and all manner of pirate fleets, will, if they can afford to do so, offer a significant bribe to a dragon turtle in order to make her turn mercenary for a time and join them on an invasion of innocent realms. In these assaults, the dragon turtle acts as a living siege engine, tearing warships apart in her claws, scalding enemy troops with her steaming breath, and carrying her allies’ forces on her vast shell.

However, a dragon turtle’s loyalty is only extends as far as the treasure she has been offered in exchange for compliance. A dragon turtle accepts no master and bends to no contract. If a dragon turtle is offered a greater prize for doing so, she will gladly abandon or even turn on her allies. To truly get any respect and obedience from a dragon turtle one has to be a creature close to her in power, like a bronze dragon, marid genie, or storm giant, in which case she may see them as an individual ally or rival rather than a mere font of gold.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dragon Turtles

For most of the time, dragon turtles are fairly antisocial creatures. On encountering one another, dragon turtles tend to boast of their wealth and accomplishments, exchange threats and insults, and then follow through with a brutal fight for dominance. Sometimes, however, depending on a host of factors that sages still don’t quite understand, a dragon turtle may hear her rival’s boasting and feel compelled to mate with them. If this is accepted by the rival, the pair will breed quickly, finish off their territorial squabble, and go their separate ways.

Once pregnant, a dragon turtle has a problem. Unlike the sea turtles they resemble, a dragon turtle can breathe both water and air with equal capability. Unfortunately, this amphibious breathing is a trait that dragon turtles only develop a week or so after hatching. As such, a dragon turtle’s eggs must be laid on land. To do this, a dragon turtle seeks out a deserted island or secluded coastline within her territory and hauls herself out onto land. A dragon turtle is slow and cumbersome out of water, but she is far from helpless. As such, she can confidently crawl up past the high-water mark, dig a pit in the sand, and burry several eggs before returning to the sea.

For the months it takes for the eggs to hatch, their mother stays close to the nesting area, keeping an eye on her clutch from the water. Should anything come by and bother the nesting site, it will be cooked in steam. When the dragon turtle wyrmlings hatch, however, their mother loses what’s left of her maternal instincts. Letting the wyrmlings unearth themselves, the mother immediately proceeds to chase them from her territory. From the instant they are out of the shell, dragon turtles are alone.

Like true dragons, dragon turtles have the potential to impregnate or be impregnated by any beast, humanoid, giant, or monstrosity they happen to fuck. The resultant creature is similar to a true half-dragon, with natural amphibiousness along with a tolerance of heat and flame as well as a steaming breath. Thanks to being incredibly asocial, however, these hybrids are rare.

Men to Dragon Turtles

On land, men live, breed, and quest, existing in small numbers but having great impacts on the world. What many terrestrial folks fail to realise is that there are also men under the waves, who likewise go on adventures and fuck many aquatic creatures. Just as men on land may dream of defeating a chromatic dragon and breeding her or persuading a metallic dragon that he is worthy of being her lover, many men under the sea imagine the day that they may become powerful or charming enough that even a mighty dragon turtle would have no choice but to feel their cock within her.

For their part, dragon turtles do not appreciate being targeted as a source of bragging rights. Not only do they dislike the thought of being raped as much as almost any sensible woman does, but with draconic pride in her soul, the idea of any creature other than another dragon turtle being worthy of impregnating her is utterly unconscionable. In a dragon turtle’s eyes, men are pathetic little creatures that, through some form of masculine insanity, seem to believe themselves to be her equal or even her superior.

Thanks to this, men fill dragon turtles with rage. Unlike when it comes to other people, a dragon turtle will go out of her way to kill any man she discovers in her territory, be they an airbreathing sailor or the spawn of her fellow aquatic life. Like all other closely related offshoots of true dragons, dragon turtles are seemingly incapable of birthing males. Some legends persist of dragon turtles with cocks, but none have been verified, and they are likely utter myths. This dearth of males of her kind seemingly solidifies the hatred dragon turtles have for men. With no male she can relate to herself, it is utterly impossible to persuade a dragon turtle of any reason a man should be allowed to live.

Chapter 92: Drider

When a drow who has sworn herself to Lolth manages to truly draw the attention of her unholy mistress, Lolth may summon them to her Abyssal domain, the Demonweb Pits. In this place, entirely at Lolth’s fickle mercy, the drow is subjected to a series of trials designed to test her strength and draw out any hint of disloyalty. Those drow that pass their goddess’ trials are returned to their native realm, with Lolth’s blessing to rise in the ecclesiastical ranks.

Failures are also returned by the Spider Queen, but not before she renders upon them a dreadful curse. When they awaken on their home plane, the failed supplicant finds themselves transformed into a monstrous hybrid of drow and spider, her torso emerging from a giant, eight-legged abdomen. A living symbol of what Lolth does to those that fail her, driders are cursed not only in body but in drow society. Many statues of Lolth present her with a drider-like body, leading many surface adventurers to believe that becoming a drider is a dark blessing of sorts. This belief could not be more incorrect. Held in lower estimation than even slaves, a drider is cast to the fringes, with abuse wherever she may show her face. The knowledge that she may never find a place truly among her kind and that even her goddess has rejected her usually drives a drider completely mad.

Maddened by Rejection

When a drider is returned to the Underdark, she is faced not only by the trauma of becoming a monster but also of instantly becoming a pariah. If the drider was previously a drow of major influence, she may be able to hide her new form in her residence and live her entire life as an utter recluse, but for most, it is impossible to hide how they have failed the Spider Queen.

For drow under the Spider Queen’s rule, treating a drider with anything other than distain is a shameful act that may attract Lolth’s ire and invite the curse upon them. As such, driders are subject to all manner of abuse from their once-sisters. A drider forced to wander the streets of a drow city may be spat upon, shunned, or have insults and trash hurled at her. However, the famously murderous drow will never slay a drider except in self-defence. Though she is utterly despised, a drider serves as a living reminder of Lolth’s power; killing a drider acts as a rejection of this warning, quite possibly drawing Lolth’s wrath to the killer.

Faced with mistreatment in her home, most driders decide to take their chances in the wild parts of the Underdark. If a drider manages to survive, she will carve out a small area where she can live out the remainder of her days in isolation, shame, and with Lolth’s eye constantly upon her. Once transformed into a drider, Lolth will never forgive her failed servant, yet she will further punish them in any way she can for additional disloyalty.

With the constant loneliness, shame, and fear of punishment, most drider will go insane sooner or later. Most drider will talk to themselves. Multiple personalities are also common, as are murderous mood swings. Other psychoses are more unique and may crop up at nearly any time. The most common madness of all, however, is a fanatical devotion to the Spider Queen. Knowing the price of failure firsthand, driders desperately seek signs of Lolth’s will wherever they may go and fulfil what they believe she wants with desperate resolve. This devotion to the goddess that cursed her also leads driders to often work with drow, serving those that abuse her as scouts and fervent heavy cavalry capable of climbing on walls and across webs to attack from all angles in cave warfare.

Hunters and Guides

Assuming she survives long enough, most driders become accomplished survivalists. Though fundamentally cursed, becoming a drider does give a drow a boost to her ability to survive. The carapace of a drider’s lower body is tough enough to deflect strikes from metal weaponry, not to mention the power of her legs to let her walk on walls and ceilings without issue. In her mouth, a drider’s canine teeth have become hollow fangs capable of envenomating her prey.

To assist in her natural capabilities, a drider typically scavenges or barters for equipment, such as swords she can swing with monstrous strength and bows that she can aim with elven finesse. Many driders also attract spiders of various sizes to their side, willing to treat her as one of their own as they stalk the Underdark. With all these traits, a drider can comfortably survive by preying on other creatures of the underdark, with some not even shying away from eating sentient beings. The only creatures a drider almost certainly will not hunt are spiders and drow, so long as she feels the drow retain their loyalty to Lolth.

As dangerous as driders can be, they can also be swayed to help a group of adventurers. As long as the adventurers don’t seem hazardous to Lolth’s machinations, a drider may be persuaded by superior power in battle or the offer of gold and resources to aid explorers of the Underdark in their journey with her survival wisdom and her local knowledge. Such negotiators should take care, however; though useful guides and often desperate for any kind of companionship, driders are unstable and may at any moment turn on their companions.

Sex and Sexuality Among Driders

Though Lolth’s curse does many terrible things to a drider, she cannot make them incapable of having sex. As such, a drider is equipped in much the same way as a natural drow, with her vagina located on the seem between drow torso and spider body. Despite being physically capable of having sex, driders are rarely mentally prepared to fuck.

Traumatically transformed into a monster, most driders are disgusted by themselves. Even mirrors and other reflective surfaces can remind a drider of what she has lost and drive her into a pit of despair. As such, physical intimacy alarms and repulses most driders, even if they can find beings willing to be intimate with them. For most driders, the preferable choice for a sexual partner would be a drow, but few drow would wilfully become a drider’s lover; in the society Lolth fosters, such an act would undoubtably make one a pariah. What certain drow warriors and nobles may cruelly do is hunt driders for sport and, since they cannot kill her without inviting Lolth’s wrath, rape her instead.

In terms of breeding, driders have the same sexual compatibilities they did prior to their transformation; that is, they can breed with anything a drow can. A drider’s curse is also not heritable, so a drider will give birth to a drow or a half-drow with no particularly spider-like traits, depending on what it was that impregnated her. However, being born of a drider is not entirely without drawbacks. Living out in the wilds of the underdark, a drider’s offspring must learn to survive quickly. If the children of a drider return to drow civilization, they are considered to be factionless and are thus treated little better than slaves, even if they appear fully drow.

Men to Driders

In most cases, the process of Lolth turning a drow into a drider fills her victim with such horror and self-hatred that she is terrified into blind obedience to the goddess that cursed her. As a result, most driders cleave even closer to Lolth’s dictates than even favoured drow. Chief among these dictates is Lolth’s complete and utter hatred of men. Thanks to this, most driders develop an overwhelming desire to kill any man on sight, either fostering their own intransigent hatred of men after their goddess’ or out of overwhelming fear of what Lolth will do if she doesn’t kill them. Only in an exceptionally mentally resilient drider who is willing to risk it all and turn against the Spider Queen for her mistreatment and unlearning all her teachings can a tolerance for men be fostered.

The one type of man a drider must tolerate is a male spider. As Lolth’s chosen creatures, spiders who happen to be male are forgiven for their sex and have a place in the society that Lolth proscribes. This isn’t to suggest that driders enjoy being fucked by male spiders; indeed, most driders are horrified upon encountering one. However, if a male spider finds a drider, she usually feels as though Lolth has sent the beast to punish her, so she allows him to breed her and impregnate her with his spiderlings, even as the deed fills her with disgust and further shame.

When a drow is turned into a drider, Lolth often decides to demarcate the exact sins that displeased her in her victim's form. Driders who were heretical to Lolth are often branded with her unholy symbol, which hurts her when touched. Those that bore too much sympathy for the surface races or longed to live on the surface normally have lighter skin, making their upper half resemble a mockery of a surface elf.

The most clear-cut symbol of misdeed a drider can be marked by is likely what comes when Lolth finds them guilty of what she considers a most heinous sin: attraction to men. These so-called “whore” driders are so named by the print tattooed all over their bodies, spelling out messages that invite rape upon her in Elvish. For such a drider, any garment more concealing than a belt is agony to wear, so she must exist in the nude, her shame on full display. For some such driders, the mission to seek a man’s affection becomes a strong enough lure to draw them out of Lolth’s control, believing that only a man with his great capacity for attraction could love her in her ruined state. Other “whore” driders begin to lothe men, blaming them for her transformation and going on a crusade to kill as many as she can, often posing as the love-seeking driders to get a man’s guard down.

As far as sages know, there are no male driders. The reason for this is rather simple. In order for Lolth to summon a drow to the Demonweb Pits and transform them into a drider, they must first have pledged their soul to her. For the most part, it seems that most male drow are smart enough to refrain from offering their souls to a goddess that openly hates them. If there are any men who have done so, Lolth seems to reward their misguided faith with death rather than transformation.

Chapter 93: Dryad

The foundation of forests, jungles, and a great many natural environs besides, many people forget that trees are more than a mere source of lumber. In the Feywild, however, the majesty of the humble tree cannot be denied; in that fair realm, the trees stand as bastions of life that brook no bear’s scratches and no woodcutter’s axe blade. If one comes across such a tree on the Material Plane, standing as the pinnacle of vitality for centuries, it is almost certainly the home of a dryad, and most mortals would do well to give her a wide berth.

At first glance, a dryad can resemble a gold or green-skinned elven maiden, with hair the colour of the forest’s leaves and nude but for an occasional cover of foliage. On closer inspection, however, a dryad seems to glimmer and fade, like she is a mere construct of the sun or moonlight shone through the emerald canopy above. In her eyes, vitality that borders on madness gleams. As soon as she is spotted, however, a dryad is gone, leaving naught but echoes of warm laughter behind her.

Defenders of the Forest

Either by chance or direct intercedence by a more powerful fey, fey spirits can every so often find themselves bound to a particularly ancient or mystical tree. From this union of fey and plant lifeforce, a dryad comes to be. As long as the tree she is bound to remains in good health, a dryad can remain in good health for centuries, while also benefiting from the bounty of nature’s power.

A dryad can communicate with all manner of beasts and plants, often securing their alliance in the process. At her command, roots and vines spring to life, ensnaring the dryad’s foes. More often however, a dryad uses her powers to stay out of sight, effortlessly teleporting from tree to tree and vanishing into underbrush, leaving not a trace of her passing.

A dryad’s bond to her tree is not purely beneficial, however, for the wellbeing of her tree directly affects the wellbeing of the dryad herself. While her tree stands strong and healthy, a dryad will remain just as healthy and vital. If her tree suffers, the dryad’s wellbeing likewise diminishes, manifesting as a wound or sickness. If her tree is destroyed, a dryad may instantly perish, but if she does not, she will instantly fall into a feral madness. The bond between a dryad and her tree also prevents her from existing in a realm separate from it. While a dryad can roam the whole world if she so desires, no force, magical or divine can summon or transport a dryad to another plane without somehow bringing her tree with her.

Her very life bound to the wellbeing of her tree and the health of the forest that supports it, a dryad is the prototypical guardian of nature. While a dryad rarely wars in the way humanoids envisions it, they are experts at rallying the forces of the forest to raid and sow madness among her foes. With her fey beauty, a dryad can bewitch humanoid and beast alike, tuning key individuals in the enemy force against their allies. In her duty to protect the woodlands, a dryad cares little for matters of intention or morality. A dryad is just as likely to turn her power against a horde of orcs who are constructing war machines as she is a band of innocent settlers making cabins. A dryad only cares about the damage her foes do to the forest. Some small settlements have made accords with the dryads of the nearby woods, taking only what they need to survive and reaffirming their oaths through strange, ancient rituals.

Dancers in Viridescent Light

When not fulfilling their duties as guardians of the forest, dryads are temperamental and capricious fey. A dryad who is warm and kindly one moment may instantly become cold and harsh as a winter gale at a near imperceptible cause. Dryads are also incredibly vain. Compliments directed at a dryad can quickly make her incredibly cooperative, while slights can fill her with a vengeful rage. Either out of a desire for vengeance or simple boredom, dryads occasionally harass travellers through their forest.

One common way dryads harass people is by demanding a toll for passing through a particular stretch of woodland. People who refuse to pay this toll will find their journey through the woods nearly impossible to navigate and will be hounded by savage beasts. Unfortunately for those willing to cooperate, dryads rarely accept gold for their payment.

Sometimes, a dryad will take the opportunity to have adventurers deal with an issue for her, repelling a monster that is damaging the local woodlands, for example. More often, however, a dryad will spell out her fee in a riddling way that leaves many mortals unsure of what they are agreeing to but creates an enforceable fey contract that mystically claims whatever is due upon the mortal’s consent. Most of the time, a dryad’s claims are rather benign, wishing to be paid in fawning compliments, a lock of hair, or a handful of recent memories. Sometimes, however, particularly if she is influenced by a darker-hearted fey like a hag, a dryad’s victim may leave her forest nameless, missing her firstborn child, or several years after she arrived, having spent the intervening time in a bewitched slumber.

When left to their own devices, dryads tend to spend a lot of time releasing the passion that burns within them. Dryads run and dance through the forest, never tiring for a second. A dryad will sing with the sparrows, leap with the elk, and swim alongside the trout in the river, never once permitting boredom to sully them. Often, particularly at times of natural or astrological importance, like the equinoxes and harvest moon, Dryads will gather with other fey, such as satyrs and pixies, partaking in galas, dances, and great orgies. These events, whatever they are, are rarely seen by mortal eyes, with only a rare few humanoids with a deep connection to nature, such as elves and druids, ever receiving an invitation.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dryads

Dryads are, by the consideration of most people, the prime example of a beautiful, sexually promiscuous fey. This view is not exactly wrong; a dryad is very casual about sex with other dryads, with not a hint of shame in her behaviour. A dryad will also happily engage in sex with most other forms of fey without a second thought. When it comes to other creatures, however, the dryad is somewhat selective, only willing to lay with attractive creatures that respect her. What a dryad considers attractive, however, tends to be much broader than a humanoid woman would consider, being instead a measure of how closely a creature matches the picture of health and vitality for their kind. As a result, dryads tend to hold humanoids and beasts in similar estimation when it comes to taking them as lovers.

 If a non-fey creature proves especially attractive to a dryad, she may try to draw them to her and proposition them. If this proposition is rejected, the dryad may charm or restrain her desired lover in a fit of desperation and offence. Unwilling to admit she has gone too far, this victim may be kept charmed as somewhere between a pet and a spouse to the dryad for weeks, years, or even their entire lives as the dryad refuses to let them go.

Despite their intense sexual proclivities, dryads get pregnant only very occasionally. When dryads fuck, they normally only do it for pleasure, seeking neither to impregnate nor get pregnant. Generally, therefore, a dryad only breeds to fulfil the desires of a partner she loves deeply. When trying to create a baby, most dryads, for some reason, prefer to get pregnant rather than impregnate their baby, and they can try for a baby with virtually any humanoid, fey, or beast.

Dryads have a unique nature when it comes to having a baby; whenever they have a baby, it always comes out as either a hybrid creature or a member of their partner’s race. While children she has with humanoids and beasts will possess fey traits like pointed ears, hair that changes with the seasons, or innate natural magic, children she has with fey will be indistinguishable from her partner’s kind. In the rare event that two dryads have a baby, the child is born a pixie or sprite.

Men to Dryads

Though dryad personalities vary between individuals, most dryads all but take leave of their senses when exposed to almost any male creature. As long as a male does not pose an immediate threat to her or her forest, a dryad will stare, giggle, and fawn over him, spying until the opportune moment to make her approach.

Unless a male fey presides over her stretch of forest, the most common form of male for a dryad to encounter is often some kind of beast, perhaps a great stag or a wolf. Most dryads offer these beasts the utmost respect, calling them princes of the forest and going out of their way to offer them protection, service their cocks, and extatically birth their half-fey offspring.

Strangely, dryads are much less servile towards humanoid men, though they are equally eager to fuck. When a man is around, dryads show themselves to be a lot more jealous of other women, often trying to subtly cut the man off from female travelling companions and friends. If two dryads both spot a man, they will inevitably compete for his affections. While this is normally done in veiled insults, hidden in niceties, it can devolve into a full-on catfight in the right conditions.

While a man usually needs to do nothing more than ask in order to fuck and knock up a dryad, the real problem comes when he tries to leave. Desperate to keep him and his cock around, a dryad will go to great lengths to get a man to stay, offering pleasures and wonders galore, trying to trick him into making magically enforceable promises to return, or straight up ensnaring him in vines and magical enchantments if all else fails. If a man encounters a dryad, he must be swift and intelligent to ever be seen again.

For some reason, dryads seem incapable of being male themselves. Some theorise that the fey spirits that form dryads are too fundamental to the old world, created before Nymphona created masculinity. This doesn’t stop other fey creatures from producing males, however, so the mystery continues.

Chapter 94: Duergar

Thousands of years ago, Duergar was the name of a dwarven clan, perhaps marred by slightly more greed than is usual but otherwise unremarkable in comparison to their sisters. One grim day, the dwarves of Clan Duergar received a supernatural insight, an inkling that somewhere deep below them lay a treasure the likes of which the world had never seen. United by their desire to unearth this bounty, Clan Duergar abandoned all other interests to unite in the singular mission of mining for it. Young and old, all dug, when a dwarf died, her corpse was kicked aside to make room for new miners. Even the tightly held dwarven principals of respect and honour were tossed aside in the effort, with prisoners from enemy raiders taken and worked to death in the caves.

As contact from Clan Duergar ceased, other clans began to worry, sending envoys requesting their work cease so that their sisters might know what drives them. Beyond their mortal kin, the dwarven goddesses beseeched Clan Duergar to stop, sending omens that their quest would end in naught but misery and woe. Yet neither sister nor goddess would the dwarves of Clan Duergar heed. Messengers were turned away, and preaching priestesses were silenced. It was thus that the exhausted remnants of Clan Duergar were alone when they finally broke through to their treasure, a psychic lure set by mind flayers to draw in their new slaves. After centuries of unspeakable treatment at illithid hands, the dwarves descended from Clan Duergar finally escaped servitude, but they were not the same. Warped and forsaken by the sun, their dwarf sisters, and the divine, the duergar turn their backs on all of them, choosing instead to live their lives in the joyless servitude of industry deep in their underdark home.

Scars of the Illithids

Centuries of servitude, selective breeding, experimentation, and psionic abuse from the mind flayers have forever changed the duergar, to the point that many, particularly surface dwarves, question whether they are truly still dwarves at all. Duergar still retain the overall figure of a dwarf, short and bulky, if a little smaller in the tits and ass, but their skin is as grey as the rock that surrounds them. A duergar’s pitch-black eyes, keen enough to peer even deeper into the darkness than most other dwarves, pain her in sunlight, while her white hair grows short and thin, if at all.

The work done to the exterior of duergar bodies is minimal, however, compared to the extensive corruption done to their minds. Inured to constant psychic bombardment by mind flayers, duergar naturally resist arcane influences on their bodies and minds. With or without magic, attempts to sway a duergar are a challenging proposition, for they have minds as unmalleable as iron. In exchange for this incredible mental fortitude, duergar struggle to feel any strong sense of joy, affection, or satisfaction. Societally, most duergar are compelled to suppress any inkling of these feelings they do experience, showing nothing but grim determination punctuated by bouts of rage when met with combat or failure.

As well as their formidable resiliencies, exposure to the psionic mind flayers over generations has given duergar an inbuilt knack for developing psionic abilities of their own. Though a wide array of capabilities can be born of psionic powers, with specific skills being picked up by duergar who dedicate themselves to the task, most duergar have the same handful of capabilities.

At will, most all duergar can turn themselves completely invisible. In this way, an apparently empty tunnel or unwatched treasure vault can, in truth, have a whole platoon guarding them, ready to descend on any intruder who passes by unprepared. Invisibility also works to ensure constant discipline among duergar kind. Since all duergar can turn invisible, there can always be a duergar loyal and willing to report one to one’s superiors, standing invisible nearby. As such, duergar always act under the assumption they are being watched in all but their most private moments.

Most duergar can also, at any given moment, swell in size. With her body, armour, and weapons growing to a size befitting of an ogre, an enlarged duergar can exert massive strength, smashing her way through hordes of foes and singlehandedly blocking tunnels as heavily armoured, living bulwarks. In day-to-day life, duergar find less use for this ability, but on the rare occasion they negotiate with other races, the knowledge that they can become giant-sized at will often does wonders for intimidation.

Children of Laduguer

According to the duergar, the dwarven goddesses, Moradin especially, wilfully abandoned them to slavery and torment under the mind flayers. As such, the duergar shun and despise them, hating their fellow dwarves for their blind devotion and eagerly awaiting the day that Moradin’s Pantheon is cast down.

Duergar are far from heathens, however, for virtually all duergar owe their worship to another goddess, Laduguer. Where Laduguer came from is a matter of some debate. Among those dwarves still loyal to Moradin, Laduguer is considered to be her daughter, exiled and shunned for her cruelty and dishonour. The duergar have another origin, however, believing that Laduguer was born a mortal dwarf of Clan Duergar, who, on seeing and experiencing the suffering her fellows endured, did what Moradin and her ilk failed to do, claiming godhood to lead the duergar to freedom.

Laduguer’s pantheon is small; besides herself, there is only Deep Duerra, her daughter or mortal vassal, uplifted to the status of a minor goddess of psionics and conquest. The duergar, however, need no other goddesses, for all others abandoned them and are thus unworthy of their worship, except on occasion, Asmodeus, for it was by an alliance with the Nine Hells that Laduguer’s ascension was achieved.

Much like the surface dwarves do with Moradin, the bulk of Laduguer’s worship is directed through craft. A duergar foundry rings not only with constant hammering but also with the drone of hundreds of muttered litanies to their goddess, merging together into a single dreary hum. The difference between duergar and other dwarves is that while the latter build and forge out of a love for the process of creation, duergar do so out of greed and because the other option is death. In the hostile realm of the underdark, duergar survive by dint of having the thickest walls, the toughest armour, the stoutest shields, and the most devastating weapons. All of these things are crafted with brutal efficiency, with the aid of slavery where it’s expedient, and then stockpiled greedily.

While Moradin encourages her daughters to make treasures that are both beautiful and practical, Laduguer has no time for aesthetics. Laduguer tells the duergar to value function far above form and frowns on adornment. The crafts of duergar, while nearly unsurpassed in craftsmanship, are entirely plain, unmarked but for the maker’s brand, and with occasional incorporation of the duergar pantheon’s unholy symbols, a broken crossbow bold for Laduguer and a mind flayer skull for Duerra.

Ladaguer also tells her children to abstain from any excesses. Duergar eat flavourless food, wear plain clothes under their utilitarian armour, and have no songs save for the endless droning prayers to their goddess. Jewelry and other adornments are contraband, wasted materials that should be melted down and put to proper use elsewhere.

The duergar, though close to it, are not the incorruptible automata that Laduguer wishes them to be, however. Duergar, from time to time, feel emotions that their kind frown upon. Many duergar will, in their private chambers, keep hidden stashes of their personal moral failings, be it a box of gold and gems to marvel at, alcohol or other intoxicants, pornography, or something entirely different.

Sex and Sexuality Among Duergar

Among the dour and grim duergar, expressions of love and lust are major moral failings. To be branded a slut among duergar, a name that can be given for the least sign of affection or desire, is to be shunned, refused business, and be all but cast out to prevent one’s “lewd influence” from spreading. Despite this, however, duergar do have a sex drive and must, on occasion, use it, or else they could have gone extinct long ago. By the dictates of Laduguer, reproductive sex is to be seen as a necessary but unpleasant activity that a duergar should participate in out of a sense of familial obligation rather than desire.

Before breeding can take place, a duergar must find a partner. Like most other dwarves, duergar marry a single spouse and remain loyal to them throughout their lives. Unsurprisingly, duergar seldom marry for love. Duergar marriages are normally arranged like business dealings, with two duergar of different families offering different benefits in exchange for the union. Instead of grand romantic gestures, a duergar tries to show a potential wife the grand array of industrial or military assets she has available.

Once a marriage is arranged, it is formalised to little fanfare, and the couple can get to the business of unenthusiastically creating the next generation. Duergar are unadventurous in sex, aiming for efficiency rather than pleasure. Duergar are expected to loathe but tolerate pregnancy, continuing to work and making themselves useful right up to the point where they give birth. To a duergar, a child is their way of ensuring their clan lives past them in the event of their demise—nothing more, nothing less. From the moment a duergar’s babe can cry, she is taught that anything less than total emotional suppression is punished. When she can talk, the dictates of Laduguer are drilled into her skull, and from her first steps, a duergar will be put to work.

Like other dwarves, duergar seem totally incapable of crossbreeding with other humanoid races. In any case, sex with anything that is not a duergar is a huge sin in the eyes of Laduguer. In Laduguer’s teachings, all non-dwarven creatures are as low as base animals; having sex with any non-duergar thus sullies the body, mind, and soul of any duergar outrageously whoreish enough to do so. Since duergar and other dwarves are for the most part sworn enemies, it is unknown if they can interbreed, with the query infuriating members of both parties.

Men to Duergar

On the whole, duergar have a view on men that is surprisingly similar to their surface kin, albeit in a darker light. When a man is not of their race, duergar hate and distrust him, believing that he may intend to rape their pure and perfect bodies and try to spread the corruption of his rampant lust among their ranks.

However, duergar do not put themselves under any illusions about men. Duergar know that men are not inherently supernatural or godlike and are mere mortals like them. As mortals, duergar assume that their superior numbers, equipment, and discipline mean that they can easily put a man down, which they will endeavour to do if they find him in their territory. On the flip side, however, this assumption also means that duergar also believe that a man could never truly rape a duergar and that if a duergar was defeated and fucked by a man, she must, at some level, have wanted it, making her a shameful whore in her fellows’ eyes. Duergar who are violated thus go to great lengths to keep the event hidden, seeking revenge on their own or leading forces against the man under a false pretence. Other duergar choose to believe the slander against rape victims even after becoming one, deciding that if they really are a slut deep down, they have no place among their kind and might as well submit fully to the man who revealed their true nature.

As humanoids, duergar do sometimes produce males of their own, though this happens more rarely than even among the other kinds of dwarves. Male duergar are known for their full baldness, apart from their thin, narrow beards. When a male duergar is born, the duergar take it as a sign from Laduguer that many duergar will soon be needed, be it for an invasion, great industrial works, or an incoming disaster that will be survived by numbers alone.

Though duergar appreciate the rarity, they do not offer their males any respect for their sex. Indeed, duergar are expected to fear and revile their males almost as much as they do males of other kinds. A male duergar’s duty is to breed the population. Even this, however, is done within a rigorous structure. Day in and day out, female duergar are chosen, normally by lottery, and are brought to the male in order to be bred, while in chains if they prove overly resistant, for impregnation is mandatory. At the same time, however, a female duergar is to suppress all signs of enjoying the process at all, receiving a fine or physical abuse as punishment for “immorality” if she displays outward signs of pleasure.

Even with a constant stream of women to fuck, male duergar do not have easy or enjoyable lives. When not fucking, a male duergar is expected to make himself useful with menial labour. Any sign of sexual attraction to women or female creatures besides the duergar assigned to him is harshly punished. He is often considered the property of whatever clan birthed him, and when the natural male urge to wander arises, he is imprisoned. Thanks to all the attention on him and the superior quality of duergar-built prisons, few male duergar escape. Those that do often go a bit mad with their freedom, attempting to build a kingdom of mentally broken sexual slaves to serve under him at his whim.

Chapter 95: Elementals

Air, earth, fire, and water—these are the fundamental elements by which the Material Plane was assembled. Though the world was shaped by the overgoddess Nymphona’s hands, she drew the raw materials for her process from four vast planes, each comprised almost entirely of a single element, known today as the four Elemental Planes. Though, in a divine sense, these planes are nothing more than infinite pools of resources for the process of creation, the Elemental Planes are not devoid of life.

Though most forms of organic life struggle to persist in planes dominated by only a single element, the sheer elemental power of the Elemental Planes causes countless infinitesimal fragments of the planes themselves to attain a life force of their own. These elementals, as they are called, can come in all manner of shapes, sizes, and levels of power, from insignificant living specks to titanic bastions of elemental power capable of ravaging the Material Plane if they ever somehow got there. In the following chapters, we will look at the typical denizens of each of the four Elemental Planes, but this chapter will cover the four of them as a whole.

Living Elements

At the most basic of descriptions, elementals are simply clumps of a native element given life, animation, and a vaguely feminine form by dint of a surge of compatible elemental power within them. Though some more exotic elementals, such as weirds, genies, and salamanders, are a little more complex than this description, it generally covers most true elementals, formed purely of elemental matter and little else. Generally elementals become more powerful with size, with the most titanic of elementals approaching the power of goddesses. However, small elementals tend to merge and most oversized elementals fall apart eventually, meaning that most elementals settle at around ten feet tall at rest.

Elementals are generally of little intellect and virtually no sense of personal being. Elementals can speak Primordial, and understand its various dialects, Auran for air, Ignan for fire, Terran for earth, and Aquan for water, however, most elementals have little to say for they have no real desires beyond flowing through their native element.

With their numbers practically limitless, elementals could be a great scourge on the planes. Thankfully, however, elementals are naturally disinterested in conquest and have little in the way of will. Most elementals simply live by instinct like animals, wandering to sources of their elemental power with no consideration towards good or evil. There are however ways that an elemental can be all too easily influenced.

An elemental can primarily be influenced by the composition of her body; a water elemental arisen from a font of holy water, for instance, is more likely to behave in a good manner, while an earth elemental formed from desecrated ground will likely go on a blind rampage of evil. Elementals are also more easily influenced by creatures of similar elemental affinity to them; a fire elemental will perform unprecedented acts of wickedness at a fiery devil’s prompting, meanwhile, a band of heroic aarakocra may have better luck convincing an air elemental to join their noble cause.

Elemental Conjuration

While elementals don’t have any particular goal of their own, their power and versatility make them very attractive as servants for those ambitious souls who can command them. Using conjuration magic, wizards, druids, and other spellcasters can reach out into the elemental plane and seize an elemental, forcing their life force to inhabit a mass of their native element in the Material Plane.

Too goalless and mystically bound to work against their summoner and needing neither food, water, rest, or even air, an elemental can be kept on as a servant or guardian of an individual or a place for days, years, or even millennia, performing any task asked of them and fighting any foe without question or hesitation. However, the magical binds that hold an elemental to one’s service must be strong and well maintained, for elementals do not like being removed from their native plane and often resent their summoners. If the bond holding an elemental under control is broken, she will most often rampage, often turning against her summoner in the first instance.

To better serve their intended task or to refine the summoner’s control, some mystics alter the elementals they summon, giving them novel shapes for specific purposes. A wizard in need of a spy or assassin may conjure an air elemental in the form of an invisible stalker; a druid hoping for a subtle guardian for her grove may call forth an earth elemental as a galeb duhr. Some further solidify their hold on an elemental by summoning her not into her native element but into a construct of some sort, specifically, in most cases, a golem.

Sex and Sexuality Among Elementals

In their natural state, elementals do not reproduce with each other. Every second, thousands of new elementals are spawned unbidden from the Elemental Planes, just as thousands of others are merging back into them. In between isolation and reabsorption, elementals will have their life force merge, split, be consumed, and get cut out again hundreds of times over. Since elementals have no true, singular souls, this life cycle doesn’t perturb them in the slightest. All of this activity goes on without any sex needed to perpetuate it and as such, elementals have no instinctive desire to fuck.

The only reason why elementals resemble women with tits and a vagina is thanks to the overgoddess Nymphona and her decree that all self-animated things that are not male must have female anatomy and be technically fuckable. Therefore, in the absence of male souls, all elementals are female. Elementals are not however under any requirement to have sexual minds, and therefore virtually never do. This is not to say that elementals hate or even dislike sex, just that they will not choose to participate of their own accord.

The one time elementals may engage in sexual behaviour is under the direct command of a summoner. This doesn’t happen often with female summoners, no matter how prevalent the mental image of the lonely, socially inept wizard forced to summon her own female companionship is. Not having much desire or knowledge of sex, the amount of micromanaging a summoner has to perform to have their elemental lover perform correctly is often maddening. Still, elementals have shown the ability to both give and receive sexual pleasure from sex. Being made of inert elemental matter, an elemental cannot impregnate or get pregnant by any form of female organic life. However, being around significant elemental activity while pregnant or at the point of conception can affect a mother’s baby, causing them to be born with an array of elemental abilities.

Men to Elementals

On the whole, elementals do not seem to have any strong opinions on men or even take much notice of another being’s sex unless they are physically trying to fuck her. Pure elementals, those created without external interference, can only be female; however, elementals are neither intelligent nor externally concerned enough for this fact to give them any particular complexes around men.

For most men, the most common time to meet an elemental is when she has been summoned by a spellcaster, potentially the man himself if he has the right magical capability. In this event, an elemental’s willingness or reticence to fuck is largely dependent on her summoner’s feelings. If her summoner commands her to resist or do something else, the elemental will try to stop the man from fucking her so she can go about whatever business she has been commanded to do. If commanded to cooperate, a man should have little issue fucking her, though she may be a little unresponsive to start with.

Elementals seem to be able to feel the difference between fucking a woman and a man and tend to react a lot more strongly to a man fucking her. It is especially telling that, when an elemental isn’t under any magical compulsion and is comfortably within her native element, she almost always accepts a man’s attempt to fuck her, though she is generally slightly less enthusiastic than a willing mortal woman would be.

Being purely made out of a single element with no internal biology to speak of, even a man’s potent sperm struggles to impregnate an elemental’s womb. With luck, however, the life force in a sufficient quantity of sperm can merge with some of an elemental’s elemental power to create a new elemental life, effectively knocking her up. When a pregnant elemental gives birth, it is to a full-sized elemental, utterly identical to her mother. Elementals lack any notions of familial bonds, so mother and daughter will go their separate ways with barely any interaction after birth.

Chapter 96: Air Elemental (Art)

Elemental air is the ultimate origin of all that is gaseous. It is from the Elemental Plane of Air that Nymphona made the boundless sky in which weather patterns shift and bring about change. Air is, by its nature, a conduit for change, representing freedom, flexibility, and a refusal to be nailed down to particulars. At the same time, however, air can be a source of great instability and unreliability and, with utter dispassion, tear away all that one holds dear.

All of these traits are encapsulated in the ever-shifting, cloudlike form of an air elemental. Whirling through the air, twisting and turning with no particular destination in mind, an air elemental may seem aimless, but by her readiness to take the course of least resistance, an air elemental makes the best use of her power.

Tempestuous Spirits

Being purely constructed out of air, an air elemental can seem to be the most insubstantial of the elementals. In combat with one, a fighter’s blade barely seems to affect her, slicing through what is essentially empty air. However, air elementals are very much present, brimming not so much with matter as with motion.

Even at apparent rest, an air elemental’s body whirls and eddies, creating a tangible breeze that can be felt several feet away. When an air elemental is on the move, she can blitz along with force, kicking up sand and gravel when she skims along the ground, spraying and sometimes freezing surf over water. When an obstacle gets in her way, an air elemental does not pound fruitlessly against it but finds the smallest of gaps and breezes her way through.

On the Material Plane, air elementals tend to appear naturally in places close to the sky, such as high mountain tops and the like. Tears to the Elemental Plane of Air can also prelude or precipitate storms of cataclysmic size in which air elementals revel, riding the storm winds for all they are worth.

As well as riding on windstorms, air elementals can also summon their power in miniature. In combat, an air elemental whips her diaphanous limbs with the speed and precision of a diving falcon, landing devastating blows into any chink in their target’s armour. As foes surround her, an air elemental may transform into a screaming cyclone, throwing all but the most stalwart asunder in a mighty whirlwind.

Elemental of the Sky

The Elemental Plane of Air is, for the most part, an infinite expanse of air with no land in sight bar a few floating chunks of rock left over from an interplanar conflict with the Elemental Plane of Earth. As such, the only real way to find one’s way around the Elemental Plane of Air is to fly. As the plane’s main inhabitants, air elementals are experts at flight.

Comfortably flying along faster than a hawk on the wing, little can keep up with an air elemental in its native environment. With her flexible body and incredible agility, an air elemental can weave through obstacles like the wind itself and need not slow down, even when passing through cracks barely an inch across. So full of the will to move and whirl around, air elementals under their own power hardly stop for anything, soaring along wherever the wind may blow them, never feeling the need to come into roost.

This limitless dynamic power has not been ignored by artificers and others interested in the magical arts. Most crudely, an air elemental can be bound to a windmill of sorts, her need to move spinning the sails constantly allowing the movement energy to be translated into a myriad of uses, from turning a millstone to the operation of many arcane vehicles and machines. Air elementals can also be instilled into weapons to grant them the power of flight, be they bows that fire their arrows with hurricane force or weapons like javelins, hatchets, and curved throwing clubs that magically fly back to their wielder’s hands. Whether powering a devise or instilled into an artifact, however, an arcanist must make sure their containment of an air elemental is airtight; after all, there is nothing an air elemental is better at than finding breaks in a seal and slipping out to cause mayhem.

Sex and Sexuality Among Air Elementals

Though, as an elemental, her desire to have sex is minimal, air elementals are unusually sensuous for their chastity. Her body forms mostly smooth curves and sashays along with her hips. The seductive stance of an air elemental has encouraged many interesting behaviours in those women who follow deities or philosophies relating to elemental air. Followers of the way of elemental air are often ascetics, possessing only what they need and eschewing all else. This sometimes includes the utter abandonment of clothing or singular relationships, creating nudist colonies and free love communes.

Of course, all this sexuality in service to the philosophy of elemental air can lead some women to consider possibly having sex with an air elemental summoned for the express purpose. Unfortunately, most women who try this endeavour are left dissatisfied. With little in the way of solidity, it is ultimately difficult to feel an air elemental’s gentle touch as more than movement in the air. Summoners who have had an air elemental lick her pussy compare the sensation to what one would get opening their legs to a stiff breeze.

Instead, air elementals may be better sexually desired than experienced. Above the events of certain arcane social events, air elementals may fly, dancing sensually, their exquisite bodies barely visible but glimpsed from time to time in a display of subtle beauty, perhaps carrying strips of diaphanous cloth with them, clinging close to their figures when a little modesty is required or proves to be all the more enthralling.

Men to Air Elementals

Most of the time, being elementals, air elementals ignore men unless they have been summoned by a man or their summoner has given them a task that involves one. If acting of her own accord, an air elemental may whip straight past a man, perhaps unintentionally caressing him with her body, and not even show a flicker of recognition for his sex.

For a man’s part, one may imagine that trying to fuck an air elemental would sensationally feel akin to humping empty air. However, when a cock is introduced to them, an air elemental’s throat or pussy can suck like a miniature tornado and provide a grip. As this takes place, the physical pleasure it grants the elemental causes her to become marginally more tangible, the curves of her body feeling akin to billowed sails on a ship, minus the texture of canvas.

As a man cums inside an air elemental, his sperm swirls around her abdominal region in a cyclonic uterus of sorts, perhaps large enough to distend her stomach depending on the quantity inside her. Over time, the sperm is cast out bit by bit, usually failing to impregnate the inert gas that forms the air elemental’s body. If an air elemental does get pregnant, her pregnancy is not that dramatic, since the compressibility of air means that her offspring can be contained as a simple, high-pressure air pocket in her womb, resulting in minimal distention. The unborn air elemental expands to her true, parent-comparable size as she rushes out of her mother's ephemeral vagina in a rapid and easy birth.

Notes:

Big thanks to Susunede for the art on this chapter, check them out here https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/73087139

Chapter 97: Earth Elemental (Art)

Solid and unmoving except by the most gradual of degrees, earth is the element foundational to the structure of the world. When Nymphona sculpted the land and bedrock with material from the Elemental Plane of Earth, she brought with it stability and reliability. While winds may blow, waters may flow, and fires may burn along the trail of new fuel, people can always depend on soil and stone to stay where they have always been, beneath their feet. At the same time, however, this stability can easily overreach into stubbornness. Turning the course of elemental earth is a monumental effort, while gaining earth's riches, be they mineral or harvested crops, requires forethought and backbreaking labour.

All of these features are exemplified in the large, plodding mass of earth and stone that is an earth elemental. Completely solid, attacking an earth elemental is about as meaningful as striking at a mountainside, with numerous blows being needed before an appreciable dent appears. Even in the face of stiff opposition, there is not much that can persuade an earth elemental to change her singular, dogged course.

Elemental of the Land

The Elemental Plane of Earth may be the hardest of the four elemental planes to navigate, not because it is particularly hostile compared to the others but because it is simply so incredibly dense. The overwhelming majority of the Elemental Plane of Earth is, unsurprisingly, earth, in multiple different forms, from sand and soil to stone, crystal, and long veins of ore. Though the chambers and tunnels that most extraplanar visitors arrive at are sometimes filled with air and may stretch on for days, they are mere pockmarks on an infinite tapestry of terra firma. Most visitors looking to get anywhere of note on the Elemental Plane of Earth, if they lack the means to magically teleport there, will have before them months, years, or even centuries of ceaseless digging.

For earth elementals, the natives of the plane, their plane’s solidity is no detriment. Like fish through the sea, earth elementals can glide straight through unworked earth and stone as if they were not even there. Earth elementals do not disturb the substrates they glide through in this way, making them surprisingly stealthy despite their hulking, lumbering figure. This ease of movement also helps in their preferred Material Plane environment, deep in the earth, either within the heart of a mountain or deep in the twisting labyrinth that is the underdark.

Though able to freely move through the earth, an earth elemental’s abilities don’t make rock and soil any less opaque to her. An earth elemental’s sight is thus useless as she travels through the ground. Thankfully for her, earth elementals have another highly effective sense to rely on. Thanks to her connection to elemental earth, an earth elemental can feel anything in contact with any earthen surface she shares contact with within a certain radius. Feeling these sensations as she would a touch upon her own surface, little can hide from a nearby earth elemental unless it can fly or find refuge in some non-earthen elevation, like a tree.

Labourer of Stone

By virtue of her shear bulk and construction, earth elementals are the physically strongest and toughest of all elementals, at least in terms of the loads they can carry and the direct blows they can shrug off. It is for this reason that when an earth elemental is summoned it is usually for heavy physical labour or for battle.

In times of war, swords and arrows are almost worthless against an earth elemental, while the blows of her bare hands can fling warriors aside and demolish castle walls. At the same time, earth elementals have an equal, if not even more use in times of peace. When set to the task, earth elementals are direct and tireless labourers, laying down bricks, hauling loads, ploughing soil, and digging mines with the utmost diligence and efficiency.

So dedicated to their work are earth elementals that, unlike most elementals, they have been known to continue their last instruction even after escaping the bonds of control set upon them by their summoner. This does not make earth elementals obedient, however, when earth elementals continue to work of their own free will, they work to their own mysterious designs. An earth elemental broken free in the midst of building a castle wall may continue building that wall straight into the horizon, creating a battlement that may bisect nations if left unattended. Meanwhile, a earth elemental set to guard a hallway might, if accidently released from her magical bond, continue to destroy all who pass through her domain, her mistresses included.

Sex and Sexuality Among Earth Elementals

On the whole, earth elementals are rough, cumbersome, and hard. This makes them particularly unsexualized, even by the standards of other elementals. Still, beneath the earth’s craggy exterior, a certain fertility lies within. Just as the bounty of earth can cause crops to grow and pastures to provide, so too can one derive lust from within elemental earth.

Many earth-based religions and philosophies are derived from ritual, tradition, and respect for the process. Thanks to this, many are standoffish and puritanical toward outsiders with new ideas and new ways. However, for a culture to establish itself, even one steeped in conservative tradition, there must usually be some nod to fertility somewhere in their rituals and rites. For cultures with earthen traditions, these sexual practises are normally best done behind closed doors.

Earth elementals are rarely involved in such traditions or used by summoners for directly sexual reasons. Rocks and mud are not pleasant things for horny women to rub up against, and earth elementals are, at best, clumsy, likely to unintentionally injure their partner if allowed to take the lead.

Men to Earth Elementals

Like most elementals, an earth elemental will be completely disinterested in a man unless she is directly compelled to interact with them by a summoner. If an earth elemental is at rest, she will ignore the man, even if he starts fucking her. If she is busy and a man puts himself in her way, she will push him aside. Only if ordered to will earth elementals actively cooperate in sex.

Despite their normal stiffness, an earth elemental who accepts sex as her task gets into it, putting her entire effort into the activity. A man fucking an earth elemental should take care, however; an earth elemental is heavy, dense, and not all that dainty, so vigorous activity, especially if a man is foolish enough to let her fuck them from above, can result in bruises, fractures, and various other injuries.

The pussy of an earth elemental leads to a moderately sized, womb-shaped cavern, rigid enough that it generally takes a lot of cum to cause a visible distention in an earth elemental’s stomach. Not a true seat for developing life, most cum shot into an earth elemental will sit for a while before slowly percolating into her earthen body and being lost.

If an earth elemental does get pregnant, though, her pregnancy is long and noticeable. Since earth is so firm and unbending, the stomach of a pregnant earth elemental slowly swells to match the rest of her body as an almost identical earth elemental grows within. Thanks to her incredible strength, however, most earth elementals seem unphased by their pregnancy. Thanks to the identical size of mother and child, the birth of a new earth elemental looks agonising, but again, the mother takes it in stride.

Notes:

Big thanks to Susunede for the art on this chapter, check them out here https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/73087139

Chapter 98: Fire Elemental (Art)

Bright and burning, fire is the spirit of passion and life. Some sages posit that the sun, the source of all natural purity and vitality on the Material Plane, was shaped by the overgoddess Nymphona from a great hunk of perpetual elemental fire, torn from the Elemental Plane of Fire and blessed by the Upper Planes. As does the sun, all fire can warm, nourish, and empower if properly directed. At the same time, however, a flame left unattended can quickly spread into an inferno of death and destruction.

As the purest embodiment of living fire, fire elementals embody all these features, being able to give both life and death. A moving mass of fire with no discernible source of fuel, a fire elemental is hard to pin down, with blades flickering through her and arrows burning up with hardly any sign of slowing her down. Like a regular fire, a fire elemental’s core instincts are to ignite, spread, and burn.

Well-Meaning Arsonist   

The Elemental Plane of Fire may be the most hazardous of the Elemental Planes of living beings from the Material Plane. This has less to do with hostile locals or the like, but because fire, by its nature, is injurious to most mortal life. Much of the Elemental Plane of Fire, from its great seas of flame to its boiling lava calderas to the explosive conflagrations that rise like moving mountains, would instantly immolate almost any planar traveller foolish enough to travel there. Even the parts of the plane that are not instantly lethal to organic life—small islands of ash and basalt—are typically unbearable in their heat, and an unprepared explorer will soon become a dehydrated husk.

Fire elementals, however, adore their plane’s conflagrant nature, swimming through flames like mermaids in the sea. So at one are the fire elementals with their plane that cold, or worse, wet conditions actively pain them. While the heat off of a fire elemental is usually sufficient that stray splashes and light rain will swiftly evaporate anywhere near them, larger quantities may cause her injury, while anything more than momentary immersion may snuff her out completely. As such, fire elementals are visibly hateful of water and watery beings.

Aside from this one rivalry, fire elementals do not appear naturally hostile to anything. This, however, does not make fire elementals safe beings to come across. When fire elementals are drawn out of her native plane to the Material Plane, she finds herself in a world that is, by her view, dim, cold, and damp. While being thrust into such an environment is distressing, most fire elementals make a discovery that brings them some comfort. Many items and creatures on the Material Plane, when touched by her, will spontaneously catch light, bursting into flames. As a result, a fire elemental not under direct control will attempt to make her surroundings more comfortable, setting objects, buildings, and people on fire as she goes.

A fire elemental does not go on this pyromaniac rampage with the intent to sow death and destruction across the Material Plane, far from it. Instead, a fire elemental sees those things that are not burning as analogous to near death, and by setting light to them, she is sharing her warmth and wellbeing while also making the cold world a little less hostile. Even if one can speak a dialect of Primordial and reason with her, it is impossible to convince a fire elemental of any situation where “ablaze” is not synonymous with “greatly improved,” though one may be able to convince her to hold off on “improving” certain individuals and objects for a time.

Thankfully, fire elementals rarely appear in the more flammable parts of the Material Plane of their own accord. Instead, the tears to the Elemental Plane of Fire from which a fire elemental may slip tend to appear in places of an already fiery nature. Common sites include blistering deserts and within the calderas of volcanoes, though openings may also occur in places of heightened activity of flame-affiliated creatures like red dragons and fire giants, who may be encouraged to make use of their presence in various ways.

Elemental of the Forge

Just as flame destroys when unleashed unwisely, it has also been used since time immemorial by many intelligent races as a source of light and the driving productive force of many crafts, from cooking wild game over a simple spit to the crafting of incredible weapons in the heat of the forge. It should thus be no surprise that, while many mages conjure fire elementals to burn their enemies, others have seen the use of a fire elemental in the work of industry.

A fire elemental is, in essence, a mobile flame of great intensity that can burn on forever with no need for fuel or bellows. While one could potentially cook with the heat of a fire elemental, the most common productive use of fire elementals is in the noble art of blacksmithing. Though they are most commonly seen using traditional coal furnaces, dwarves are famed for their mighty, blessed forges, powered by elemental fire.

Some of the most legendary forges, capable of producing artefacts that bend the very course of history, contain fire elementals far beyond the reconning of most, with titanic size and monstrous power, capable of visiting doom on a continental scale if they ever escaped. As such, these forges double as prisons for these flaming titans, built of nigh-indestructible adamantine and blessed by the dwarven pantheon, their dwarven custodians syphoning off just enough heat to keep their power under control and to make their wonders.

As well as being instrumental in making many artifacts, fire elementals also often form an integral part of many magical items. Sometimes, the heat of a fire elemental may be used to provide energy or lift to a mystical object, like the balloons of great airships, but much of the time, the reason to instil a fire elemental into something is simply to augment its destructive abilities with flame.

Wands that house a fire elemental’s spirit in their glimmering tips and circlets fitted with flame-red gems may shoot out great fireballs and lances of fire for even those not educated in the magical arts. Meanwhile, the legendary flame tongues are magical blades that ignite at their wielder’s command, making them a terrible weapon to face in battle, often thanks to the fire elemental that rests inside.

Whether imprisoned in an adamantine furnace or bound to a wand or sword, an arcanist should take great care that the hold their artefacts have on the elemental inside is secure. If there is any fault in a fire elemental’s magical constraints, she will eventually escape in a great bloom of fire, one that, in the case of especially powerful fire elementals, can have cataclysmic consequences.

Sex and Sexuality Among Fire Elementals

Like all elementals, fire elementals do not have sex of their own accord and are not sexually minded creatures. However, many people find something uniquely provocative about fire elementals, especially compared to their more neutral acting kin. Many women swear that fire elementals beckon them seductively and that they move with the salaciousness of an exotic dancer. Some theorise that this is because of fire’s natural passion, while others believe it is a trick of the mind, caused by the same draw many sentient beings feel towards flame combined with the vaguely feminine form of an elemental.

Regardless of the reason, the seductive nature of fire elementals makes many who follow goddesses and philosophies based on flame extremely sensual. Often spawning in forges, kitchens, and other sweltering environments, most who follow the ways of fire are already predisposed to wearing as little clothing as is practical. As such, it is normally a short bound from nudity to passionately erotic displays, dances, rituals, and lively sexual activity.

Despite the abounding passion, most women are wise enough to leave fire elementals out of their sexual activities. Being formed out of living flame, any form of contact with a fire elemental is as hazardous as trying to have sex with a mundane bonfire. Still, for many women, the aesthetics of a being they can look at but not touch is even more alluring. Fire elementals may be set to dance on stone stages around iron poles, or flirt with visiting guests from hearths and balconies by their summoners.

Even more erotic is the unavoidable nudity of a fire elementals. While no pure elementals have a natural affinity to make or wear clothing without instruction, fire elementals are practically impossible to dress. Cotton, silk, and most other textiles burn to nothing in mere moments the instant they touch a fire elemental’s body. Even a drapery of chainmail will eventually melt from constant exposure to the elemental’s heat. As such, there is virtually no practical way to make a fire elemental conform to human standards of modesty.

Men to Fire Elementals

When trying to complete the rounds of fucking each elemental, it is the fire elemental that normally gives men the most pause. Most men quite reasonably assume that sticking their dick into what is essentially a sentient mass of fire will not result in a pleasurable experience. However, this is not entirely the case. Thanks to one of the many decrees of the overgoddess Nymphona, it must be possible for any man to have vaginal sex with any female creature without the process itself being directly injurious to either party. As such, a man can shove his cock into a fire elemental’s pussy without cooking it.

This is not to say the process is without risk, however. The protections mandated by Nymphona protect only the direct operations of a penis entering a vagina. As such, any contact with or by other parts of the fire elemental’s body will be injurious to a man. Sex with a fire elemental is therefore still a delicate task, typically one that is best backed up with some form of magical immunity to fire. Additionally, it cannot be stressed enough that most men do not possess cocks that are fireproof outside of this very particular situation.

Despite their apparent provocative nature, fire elementals are, in practice, rarely more interested in fucking a man than any other elemental. That is to say, most fire elementals are not hostile towards men but are not particularly cooperative in sex. If a man manages to cum inside a fire elemental, Nymphona’s protections ensure the fluid is not injurious to her like water would be, but many fire elementals seem mildly insulted. Still, within the womblike vacuole in which the sperm is stored, it burns away quickly, normally being destroyed entirely before the elemental can be impregnated.

When a fire elemental gets pregnant, her offspring is compressed into a concentrated ball of heat and light, making her pregnancy seem normal for her size despite her offspring’s size at birth. When the time comes to give birth, it all happens rather instantaneously, with the new elemental rushing out of her mother’s pussy like a red dragon’s breath, which forms into a nearly identical, similar-sized copy of her mother.

Notes:

Big thanks to Susunede for the art on this chapter, check them out here https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/73087139

Chapter 99: Water Elemental (Art)

Where water flows, life flourishes. The source of all fluidity, it is through the power of elemental water that change and growth occur. Water can change with its environment, carrying minerals like salt from elemental earth and vital gases from elemental air, making water the ideal environment for many living things. Water can even accept the qualities of its rival element, fire, to evaporate into steam, or else release its heat and freeze. For all these changes, however, the path of transformation for water is cyclical, with there always being all too easy routes back to water’s original state.

Water elementals hold true to the state of their element. Flexible, mobile, and fluid, weapons wash through a water elemental’s body with little effect. Left to her own devices, a water elemental is fairly passive, going with the flow. However, when properly directed, a water elemental can strike with the force of a tidal wave, overcoming the defences and the lungs of all that stand in her way.

Elemental of the Sea

If one finds themselves in the Elemental Plane of Water, they may at first think that they are simply far out to sea. Indeed, the ocean of the Material Plane was first crafted from the Elemental Plane of Water. However, an observant sailor would notice several oddities. Firstly, relatively little of the Elemental Plane of Water is comprised of salt water, so by scent and taste, most would assume they are upon an infinitely large lake. Visually, one may come to the shocking realisation that the ocean has no bottom, and anything resembling an island or sea floor will inevitably turn out to be an ice or earth berg floating in the water with apparently neutral buoyancy. Even what seems to be the surface of the water is simply the interior of a great air bubble.

In an environment composed almost purely of water, there is little choice but to swim. Being the Elemental Plane of Water’s primary natives, water elementals are uniquely gifted for that mode of life. On land, a water elemental can lap along with an appreciable turn of speed, similar to the pace of an adult human. Where a water elemental unsurprisingly excels, however, is in the water. A living, independent tide, a water elemental rips through water faster than most of the fastest fish on the Material Plane with virtually no sign of exertion. Like all pure elementals, water elementals have no need to rest, feed, or breathe. As such, a water elemental swims constantly, never tiring once.

Water elementals are not only fast and tireless swimmers, but also nearly invisible ones. Being made of water, a water elemental placed in the water is hard to distinguish from her medium, visible as a vaguely feminine outline that fades in and out of visuality. For the most part, this homogeny is only a coincidental disguise since water elementals rarely have a need to intentionally employ stealth. Water elementals stream through the water, able to leak through cracks and flow around any creature they pass closely too, almost never having a reason to see them come to harm.

Tidal Power

When conjurors summon a water elemental to do their bidding, they are normally looking either for underwater work to be done or for an elemental with a balance of flexibility and power. While most solid walls and defences can hold up against a water elemental’s assault for a while, few are watertight to the point where she cannot find a place to slip through. Once through the outer defences, a water elemental charges her foes with the unbending fury of a rouge wave and has the strength to throw them around like storm-blown ships.

Most aggressively, a water elemental can use her significant strength to draw in and engulf those around her. Held prisoner within her aqueous body, a water elemental's internal currents can aggressively churn to pummel her victim. Also, unless they happen to be gifted with the ability to breathe underwater, creatures held captive by a water elemental will begin to drown. Not all beings held inside a water elemental are in danger of being killed, however. Depending on what medium a water elemental was summoned into, she may find small fish, crustaceans, and even little bits of treasure happily floating within her. Normally, a water elemental simply pays these passengers no mind.

Clearly, water elementals are not naturally destructive creatures and, as such, can be put to work in a variety of ways. Most simply, the power of self-propelled water can turn a water wheel almost anywhere. A water elemental can also easily collect and shed additional water, helping her to wash clothes, water crops, and fight fires. A water elemental’s power to fight fires is often so great that they are commonly called upon to fight their opposites, fire elementals, either in direct combat or acting as living restraints for powerful fire elementals held captive in arcane forges.

Sex and Sexuality Among Water Elementals

Of all the elementals, water elementals are the ones that seem the most sexually appealing to women. More physically present than air elementals yet not as rough and solid as an earth elemental, contact with a cooperative water elemental feels a lot like touching a flesh and blood person, if a little cooler and wetter than normal. Thanks to this, a handful of those magically gifted to call her forth summon a water elemental with the explicit purpose of fucking her.

In turn, knowledge of this practise means that many people, upon seeing a spellcaster with a water elemental in tow, will immediately assume the elemental is her conjured concubine. Reactions to this assumption are varied and often situational. In certain areas, conjuring forth an elemental escort for one’s personal use at a social event or the like is an impressive show of one’s arcane power. In most circles, however, summoning a water elemental for one’s own private, sexual use is often seen as a sad use or abuse of magic that speaks to the spellcaster's social ineptitude at finding herself a “real” lover.

Despite the derision often levied at women who fuck water elementals, the concept of elemental water is often tied tightly to sex. Water is fundamental to virtually all life on the Material Plane and as such, there is often a strong link between water’s life-supporting capabilities and the life-generating power of sex. Water also acts as an alluring barrier for sexual curiosity. It is often the stark separation of life above and below the waves that prompts the sexual desires of air-breathing sailors towards merfolk, sea elves, and all manner of other aquatic beauties, including water elementals themselves.

Men to Water Elementals

Though significantly less reticent about sex with elementals than most women, men tend to agree that water elementals are the superior lovers of the pure elementals. Water elemental flexibility, mass, and give make them much more compatible with most humanoid men. This is not to say that water elementals have much interest in trying to fuck a man; a water elemental under her own power generally goes with the flow, not helping men to fuck them but also not resisting.

If a water elemental is came inside of, the sperm generally concentrates within her stomach but slowly defuses out over time until it is basically gone. Normally, the unreactive water does not interact with a man’s sperm, and the water elemental doesn’t get pregnant. However, a man’s life force sometimes merges with the elemental power of the water elemental, causing pregnancy.

When a water elemental does get pregnant, the incompressibility of water means that her offspring, a water elemental roughly her size, gives her a large pregnancy belly. However, water is flexible enough that a water elemental’s unborn daughter can be contorted into a nearly perfect spherical mass, making her pregnancy more compact than it could otherwise be. When the new elemental is born, she flows out of her mother’s pussy with ease, despite her great size.

Notes:

Big thanks to Susunede for the art on this chapter, check them out here https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/73087139

Chapter 100: Elf, Drow

Long, long ago, life arose from a wound laid upon the wild and free goddess Corellon Larethian. After a time, Corellon came to notice and adore these ephemeral fractal children. To the most vocal, Corellon gave names, turning them into the Seldarine, known today by many as the Elven Pantheon. Perhaps the most vocal of the the Seldarine was known then by a name lost to time. With her powerful voice, Lolth managed to persuade the unnamed children of Corellon that, if they would only let her weave them into a singular, definite shape of flesh and blood, they would have the power to draw their creator’s eye too.

It was only after the young goddess’ touch that the beings, now transformed into mortal elves, realised that they had been forever cut off from true unity with their creator. While many were horrified, other elves and a few of her fellow divines were convinced by the goddess that Corellon was unworthy of their adoration. As such, when Corellon returned her attention to her children and was frozen in shock at their transformation, the goddess had the power to seize the moment and strike him a fearsome blow. Still, the goddess had underestimated her creator’s resilience and the love the remaining elves and goddesses had for her. Using their own power to blunt the wound, Corellon’s loyal children saved her from the brunt of the damage. With a mighty and emotionally devastated blow, Corellon banished the treacherous goddess and all those goddesses that supported her out of the Upper Planes and into the Abyss.

As for the mortal elves, loyalist and traitor alike, Corellon could not bear to look upon them in their altered state. Setting them down on the Material Plane, Corellon bade them find meaning in their new existence and left. The elves on Corellons' side made their homes in the forests and glens of the Material Plane, hoping to one day heal the emotional wound dealt to their goddess and reunite with her. As for the elves who believed Corellon to be no worthy deity of theirs, they soon heard their original weaver’s voice return. The traitor goddess had not only survived in the Abyss but thrived, forging herself anew as a new goddess: Lolth, the Goddess of Spiders and Matron of the Dark Elves.

At Lolth’s command, the dark elves engaged their sisters in war. The destruction was vast and bloody on both sides, but eventually, Lolth called her children elsewhere. For reasons unknown, Lolth the dark elves abandon their holdings on the surface and descend, down and down, into the Underdark. There, the dark elves made an empire for themselves and, over generations of the Spider Queen’s guidance, were warped both physically and morally into the drow that haunt the shadows to this day.

Breasts and Respect

Among the drow, status is strictly divided by many physical and genealogical features. Most majorly, drow possess two slightly different body plans. Half-breasted drow have smaller, more pointed tits, typically only twice the size of their heads. Full-breasted drow, on the other hand, have spherical breasts, much larger than most other elves. All other things being equal, a half-breasted drow will always be inferior to her full-breasted equivalent. A more prestigious half-breasted drow may have authority over lower-class drow with full breasts, such as by being the commander of their platoon in a military squadron, but somewhere up the chain of command, that half-breast will report and take her orders from a full-breasted superior.

The clearest-cut example of this lies within Lolth’s clergy. In order to be accepted by Lolth as one of her clerics, a drow must be full-breasted. As it happens, the priestesses of Lolth’s faith also make the ruling elite of the drow as a whole, thus precluding half-breasts from rulership entirely. The determination of where individual priestesses lie on the scale of drow political power generally depends both on the amount of divine power Lolth grants them but also on the power and influence of their family.

The matrons of a powerful drow house draw their power not only from Lolth’s favour but also from their wealth, the lesser families they have swearing fealty to them, and the resources that their enterprises control. The greatest drow priestesses are thus also ruthless businesswomen with the influence to have their own private armies, forge and break alliances at will, put a stranglehold on supplies their enemies desperately need, and even house drow mages to research every arcane advantage they can seize for her.

Of course, improving one’s own holdings is only one way to become better than one’s contemporaries. Taking their goddess’ lead, few drow hesitate to bring their rivals down. Among the drow, cleverly actioned treachery and subterfuge are not only socially accepted but are traits to be praised and respected by one's peers. A drow will lie, betray, and blackmail her fellows without a second thought, and if a foe is in the way, few drow flinch at murder.

Pride and Poison

The prestige of drow assassins is legendary, to the point where many villains on the surface will make deals with the drow in exchange for their use. Even with no magical training, most drow can wield a little of the underdark’s natural mystic power, letting them create luminous distractions, conjure masses of impenetrable darkness, or even levitate. All of these abilities, along with the drow’s keen nightvision and natural grace, make them some of the most talented individuals at slipping by and delivering the killing blow undetected.

A common addition for many drow comes in the form of poison. Often crafted from harvested spider venom and the many toxic flora and fauna of the underdark, drow use poison as almost a force of habit. Most any drow that can afford to do so will apply poison to their blades and rig up their homes and vital buildings with poisoned traps, be it poison needles on chests and doors or preasure plates primed to launch poison darts or gas. Meanwhile, powerful or strategically important drow must live under the assumption that someone is always trying to poison them, be it in their food, on their furnishings, or in any other place.

A common drow tincture is one designed to be applied to darts and crossbow bolts. When the projectile manages to deliver a non-fatal blow, the poison can enter the victim’s body and induce swift fainting. This not only enables drow to end a fight swiftly but also enables them to more easily take living prisoners.

While the rash of drow raids is not as widespread as many on the surface fear, drow do sometimes come to the surface in the dead of night, for sunlight pains them, in order to attack and seize both riches and victims to take back with them to their underdark home. Most of these prisoners are enslaved, set to work in the lowest rung of drow society with the drow who have no worthwhile family or house to vouch for them, and the occasional primitive humanoids of the underdark that the drow bully into submission. A choice few of these individuals, along with dissidents who refuse to conform to slavery, are handed over for a worse fate, sacrificed to Lolth or one of her demonic heralds for favour before being fed to the spiders.

Sex and Sexuality Among Drow

Like most elves, drow are sensual and lustful people. However, where other elves see sex as a vehicle for love and beauty, drow consider sex a self-serving act, the goal being to attain as much pleasure as possible for oneself while exerting power over another by demanding her service. Drow may have sex with one another to affirm bonds of trust; a lesser drow may submit sexually to a superior to show deference; and a drow may have her rival raped in order to intimidate or shame her.

Of course, as well as all its social uses, drow must also use sex to ensure that their birth rate outstrips the rate at which their enemies and their own assassins can kill them. However, the rules surrounding drow breeding, commanded by Lolth herself, are exacting and precise. Though drow of any breast shape can casually fuck together, reproductive sex must be between a half-breasted drow and a full-breasted drow, with the full-breast being the only one that gets pregnant. In the eyes of Lolth and thus her clergy and the drow as a whole, lowly half-breasts are unworthy of baring the honour of pregnancy despite being physically capable of it, while a full-breasted drow who uses her ability to impregnate another denigrates herself by performing a half-breasted drow’s role.

To facilitate this breeding arrangement, full-breasted drow of station tend to keep at least one consort, a half-breasted drow of great beauty, poise, talent, and intelligence, who will hopefully pass on her positive traits or else be able to teach them to her children. This role is highly coveted among half-breasted drow, for being a favoured consort means being one of the most trusted and high-ranking of one’s mistress’ servants, giving one command over all others as long as the consort stays in line.

Drow also have no qualms about fucking non-drow creatures, so long as they are female and the drow is dominant over them. Drow may rape slaves to keep them too terrified to consider rebellion or even gather monsters and arcane conjurations like golems and elementals, having sex with them as a show of power. However, the creation of offspring from these unions is deeply taboo. Like all other elves, drow can crossbreed with humans. Half-drow are, however, seen as filthy mongrels, held in a similar esteem to slaves.

In opposition to their relationship with fellow mortal creatures, the drow will sometimes partially submit to certain fiends. Being not only a goddess but also a ruler of an abyssal layer, Lolth has an uncountable horde of demons at her command. Sometimes, in search of greater favour from their goddess, drow will call a demon fourth and offer it wealth, sacrifices, and sexual favours for its assistance. Normally, it is only younger, lower-caste priestesses who risk fucking a demon and possibly getting impregnated with their cambion child. If they survive, the increase in their standing can be incredible. Survival is, however, far from guaranteed.

Men to Drow

Among Lolth’s many evil traits, one of the most well-known may be her rabid and unilateral hatred of all male creatures. What exactly men have done to earn Lolth’s total enmity is a mystery. Some think it may be an act of rebellion against Corellon’s love of manhood; others theorise that Lolth must have been violated by some male creature in the distant past and has thus had her trust in men shattered. Others still say that Lolth’s irrepressible misandry is merely one of many artefacts of her divine madness.

Regardless of cause, the fact remains that outside of her beloved spiders and a select few demons she has for some reason allowed to persist as her underlings, Lolth wants nothing less than the total destruction of all male life. As her fanatical servants, Lolth distils her hatred of men into her drow priestesses, and from there, the priestesses indoctrinate the rest of drowkind.

As a result, the vast majority of drow are total misandrists; to be anything less is to become a fugitive among their own kind, forced to flee for society elsewhere, commonly on the surface. For those that stay true to the Spider Queen, hatred of men influences their every faculty. When a male creature, besides a spider, is spotted near a drow settlement, the nobility will hunt it for sport in Lolth's name. If a man is not killed on sight by the drow, they will seek to capture him and sacrifice him to Lolth for her pleasure at seeing a man die.

Within themselves, drow usually not only hate but also fear men. Among the drow, the greatest sin one can perform is to have sex with a man, willing or otherwise. As such, most drow are terrified that a man may try to rape them and thus ruin them in the eyes of Lolth. Drow are not totally immune to lust, however, and may feel it when exposed to a man. These feelings only terrify the drow more, however, driving them to desperately police their own minds.

Despite Lolth’s hatred for men and the loyalty of her people, the spider queen does not seem as in control over the births of her chosen people as she might wish. Though not as frequent as even among surface elves, the drow will, every now and then, give birth to a male of their kind. This development is, of course, horrifying. By Lolth’s demands, the babe should either be killed in sacrifice to her or else immediately cast into slavery, and under no circumstances should the male be allowed to breed.

However, despite their loyalty and frequent evil, the drow are not always the utterly callous beings Lolth wishes them to be, willing to destroy their own child in her name. Either out of pity or growing attraction, they may flee with or engineer an escape for the man, especially if they are his parent, sibling, or otherwise close relative. Male drow who successfully escape their kind are often strangely humble for a man, knowing all too well that masculinity can as often be a curse as a blessing.

Chapter 101: Empyrean

Not quite a goddess, yet overflowing with their celestial power, empyreans are the offspring of two goddesses of the Upper Planes who decided to breed together. Filled with unrestrained goodness and wonderment, most empyreans live as benevolent wonderers of great stretches of many of the realms of good. However, empyreans are also great and fearless warriors, armed with the most powerful of divine weaponry and able to rain bolts of radiant, arcane, or elemental power upon the enemies of good.

Utterly unshakable by the face of evil, an empyrean thunders down into the Nine Hells, the Abyss, and all the other homes of wickedness at the head of divine hosts, ready to lay waste to evil’s machinations. Nigh unstoppable but also subject to their own whims, empyreans are the juggernauts of the Upper Planes.

Children of the Divine

Being the direct offspring of goddesses, each empyrean is her own wondrously unique being, both in temperament and form. Usually, an empyrean’s form and habits are influenced by the goddesses who made her. The empyrean child of a combative or knightly goddess may take after her parent’s courageous ways and favour a suit of armour to clothe herself, while a more peaceful goddess’ child may favour silk robes or nothing at all. Empyreans born of a certain race’s goddesses often resemble great and glorious instances of that race, while goddesses more affiliated with nature than people may produce empyreans with more animalistic features, like heads reminiscent of various noble beasts, fur, feathers, paws, or cloven hooves.

Regardless of form, empyreans are almost unilaterally gigantic (often taller than any mortal giant), statuesque, beautiful, and undeniably divine by sight. An empyrean’s beauty is seldom skin deep; within the great beating heart of virtually all empyreans is self-confidence, passion, and love. Though an empyrean may boast of her superiority or revel in battle as if it were a game, no empyrean in her right mind would hesitate to help an innocent in need or be encouraged to fight for unjust reasons.

Filled with the passions and desires of two goddesses, the love and emotions contained within an empyrean’s soul can never truly be contained, and the mood of an empyrean bends the very world around her. When an empyrean cries, the clouds may cry with her as a pouring rain of tears, flowers may wilt, and trees may shed their leaves, falling into an early winter. When that sadness is replaced with joy, the empyrean causes her surroundings to burst into life: the sun shining just a little bit brighter, animals frolicking around her feet, and birds singing melodiously in the sky. With a great cheer, an empyrean can spread her confidence to her allies, ridding them of their fear and bolstering them to do their very best.

Immortal Self-Confidence

As the children of goddesses, Empyreans do not age past their prime, and while they can technically be slain, it is no mean feat. The skin of an empyrean is invulnerable to all by the most mystically powerful of weaponry, and even then, it is a challenge to pierce. An empyrean is also able to live comfortably in all conditions, be it on land, underwater, or even flying in the air, with or without wings. At her merest touch, an empyrean can cure herself and others of all manner of sickness and dark magic, and with a weapon in hand, she can lay waste to most evils with ease.

With so much power within them, most empyreans consider themselves utterly invincible. As such, little can frighten an empyrean or dissuade her from her course once her mind is made up. In battle, an empyrean may sing and laugh as she demolishes her foes, and even the feat of shedding her blood is more likely to amuse her than anything else. The confidence of an empyrean is so great that she often cannot even conceive of her own demise, even if the battle turns against her, unable to realise death is upon her until she dies. In the rare event an empyrean meets her end, her soul typically returns to one of the divine realms of her goddess parents, at which point they rarely have any cause not to resurrect their child.

Thankfully, empyreans are almost always bastions of pure, emotionally driven benevolence. The children of evil goddesses are dark, fiendish things, distinct from the empyreans, and most empyreans are far too wise and kindly to fall into the clutches of evil. Many empyreans do, however, suffer from arrogance thanks to their heritage and power, and on rare occasions, this gives evil a foothold on her soul, allowing for the corruption of the Lower Planes to eventually consume her if she is not careful. Bared from spreading their new wicked ways through the Upper Planes, most empyreans turned to evil settle either in the realms of their corruption or on the Material Plane, where they may become immortal, nigh-unkillable despots.

Sex and Sexuality Among Empyreans

As beings of manifest love and will, it is hardly unheard of for an empyrean to have sex. How interested an empyrean is in sex and how she goes about it can depend on a variety of matters, from personal preference to prior experience to the goddesses she was conceived by. The daughter of a more straight-laced or chivalrous goddess may be less inclined to sex or else seek a singular lover with whom she makes love. A more free-spirited goddess may spawn an empyrean who seeks to spread the love amongst many, having sex with many consenting partners.

In any case, however, an empyrean will most of the time seek to have sex with her fellow celestial beings, such as angels, unicorns, fellow empyreans, and even goddesses, rather than with mortals. This is due to empyreans seeking a level of passion and goodness in their lovers that is simply commonplace on the Upper Planes but rare on the Material one. If an empyrean does find a mortal who exemplifies the force of goodness she seeks in a partner, she may treat that mortal to the joyous rapture of fucking her divine self, though normally only after a well-disguised test of character.

Though empyreans can happily have sex, it is rare that empyreans seek to breed. Quite simply, an empyrean’s quest for goodness and benevolence is a personal one, one she seeks to achieve personally by dint of her eternal life. It would thus be obstructive for an empyrean to have a child. Still, an empyrean can have children, and when that child is made with a mortal, the resultant offspring is almost indistinguishable from the half-angelic aaismar, complete with a mental connection to the empyrean that sired them.

Men to Empyreans

Being fully celestial beings with no mortal origins, there are no male empyreans. Still, despite their pride and uniqueness in personality, most empyreans endeavour not to judge others by their sex. Still, different empyreans approach men in different ways. Where one empyrean may take offence to a mortal man’s attempts to seduce her, another may be amused or even flattered. Even if they don’t like interacting with mortal men, most empyreans will not attack a man out of mere distaste, understanding that, as long as he is not performing evil acts such as attempted rape, trying to find lovers is merely the natural state of most men.

On the other hand, however, even the most affectionate and welcoming empyreans to men are unlikely to fuck a mortal man out of hand. Male or otherwise, an empyrean will only willingly have sex with a being that reaches her moral standards. Since the Material Plane produces men of all moral persuasions, an empyrean must first verify that her would-be lover is in fact good.

This verification is normally done by demanding from the man the completion of some great, often world-spanning, quest for the cause of good, in the process of which she knows the man will face serious tests of his faith and his morality. If the man succeeds, then the empyrean is often delighted to reward him with the chance to make love to her, assuming she was in the mood to fuck a man anyway. If the man fails, then there are a handful of male celestials she can choose to fuck instead.

Chapter 102: Ettercap

Notes:

WARNING: Spiders. No seriously, if you are made uncomfortable with the concept of interacting with, fucking, or giving birth to spiders, miss this chapter.

Within the twisting maze of the underdark and dark, half-dead forests, spiders weave their silken domains. Away from the shadowed rafters and musty cellars of civilization, spiders come in forms and breeds that make the familiar kinds but a pleasant memory. Horrifically venomous tarantulas, liable to bite the hands and feet of the unwary, and colonial swarms, more liable to tear their prey apart, act as mere vanguards for monstrously overgrown giants with the power to hunt large game like deer, horses, and unfortunate adventurers, alone or in small groups, dragging them off in silken bindings for later consumption.

For all these horrors, however, most of these spiders are simply predatory beasts, acting in accordance with their nature and will to survive. Sometimes, however, spiders act with unusual malice and insight, betraying to more experienced adventurers the influence of a dastardlier kind. Often, this is the work of the drow. Their goddess, Lolth, having claimed spiders as her domain, drow often keep various kinds of spiders as pets and war beasts. However, there is another creature even more closely bonded to the arachnids than their goddess’ people. That creature is the monstrous ettercap.

Spider Sisters

Hunched and scampering from shadow to shadow, one rarely gets a good look at an ettercap until it is upon them. bulbous in the torso and yet gangly in the limbs, an ettercap is less akin to a humanoid with spiderlike features, and more so a giant spider partway transmogrified into a humanoid form. Though no longer in possession of an exoskeleton, an ettercap’s skin is leathery and studded with nodes of chitin. The claws at the end of an ettercap’s limbs cling on to virtually any surface, letting her scamper up trees, walls, and over ceilings with little issue. Least humanoid of all, however, is her face. With fangs, web-spinning palps, and numerous blank, glassy eyes, an ettercap is as inscrutable as any spider.

Where exactly the ettercaps came from is a murky topic. Some scholars consider the ettercaps to be a creation of Lolth, perhaps a failed attempt at creating a perfect being, or a punishment for those who went against her. Others suggest she may be the result of a horrible mutation, wrought by reckless arcane experimentation or perhaps by a pack of spiders that somehow managed to transform themselves in defiance of nature.

Regardless of their origins, ettercaps seem to be widely accepted by true spiders of all kinds, whom they watch over, protect, and guide. Though not genius luminaries by most peoples' standards, ettercaps are smarter than their charges. From rocks, branches, and her own webbing, an Ettercap can make crude weapons like spears, clubs, and silken garottes to supplement her claws and venomous fangs. An ettercaps insight becomes all the more dangerous when applied to her charges.

Able to near-silently command the spiders she cares for, an ettercap can grant them hunting strategies their bestial minds would never consider: complex ambushes, harrowing hit-and-run tactics, and a concert of death with each desperate breed of spider playing to its perfect strengths. Despite this apparent social brilliance, reasoning with an ettercap is a foolhardy endeavour. Virtually no ettercaps seem equipped to even understand the languages of other intelligent creatures, even if they were inclined to converse with them. In the eyes of an ettercap, anything that is not an arachnid is either a threat or prey.

Forest Despoilers

If ettercaps used their sentience simply to live alongside and better the lives of their spider brethren, all would be well, or at least decent. Unfortunately, however, the odd but acceptable desire of ettercaps to be the stewardesses of spiders is tainted by a flicker of malice, an underlying hatred of light, joy, and vitality in anything besides themselves and their eight-legged charges.

While an ettercap will bring down virtually any available, non-spider prey to feed herself and her spiders, ettercaps seem particularly fond of eating sentient beings—those whose suffering she can enjoy as much as their delicious blood. When her victim is dead and their flesh has been consumed, she will festoon her dark, web-covered lair with their bones, but scatter their coins and other valuables atop silken tripwires in the hopes of ensnaring yet more sentient prey.

More than simple travellers and adventures, an ettercap’s true enmity lies with the fey, particularly the goodly fey, whose beauty and vitality disgust them. Smaller, humbler fey who get caught up in an ettercap’s web, like pixies and sprites, are greedily devoured. Against more capable fey, ettercaps are rarely equipped to do all too much unless they catch them weakened or straggling behind their allies. Still, ettercaps try their best, vainly binding a dryad’s tree in webbing, petulantly vandalising sacred groves, and even making tripwires in the fruitless hope that a majestic unicorn may lose so much as a step because of them. The mean-hearted hatred in an ettercap’s core, combined with her less than impressive intelligence, sometimes sees her bullied or manipulated into service by other wicked creatures such as hags, oni, and drow, who make use of her skills as a monstrous assassin and shepherd of spiders.

For the most part, the influence of ettercaps on a forest is minimal—no more than that of most predators—as competition and fey retaliation keep them confined to shadowy glens and other untouched corners. Sometimes, however, forces may turn against the oppressive forces that keep the ettercaps out of the way, allowing them and their spiders to overwhelm a portion of the forest for themselves. Where ettercaps rule, the forest darkens, half-dead trees twist to block out the sun, pathways bend and fade into imperceptible brush, and everywhere, webs are woven and spiders crawl. It takes one touch of these webs for the ettercaps and their dear charges to know that fresh meat has entered their domain.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ettercaps

For ettercaps, breeding is a fairly straightforward affair, a bestial activity with no need for romance or affection. Etteraps tend to be solitary besides their spiders, and groupings tend to be composed of sisters. As such, when two unrelated individuals meet, it is often a tense affair, with fights and cannibalism not being off the table. However, if a pair of ettercaps manage to hold off each other’s murderous instincts, normally because easier prey is currently plentiful, they may briefly fuck, attempting to get the bigger of the pair pregnant. After this, the smaller ettercap will normally flee, lest her mate kill and eat her.

About a month and a half after her impregnation, a pregnant ettercap will lay anywhere from thirty to eighty eggs. Each of these eggs are spherical and about the size of a hen's, with glassy, squishy shells. To secure their eggs against damage and theft, the mother ettercap will weave them into a silken pod, which she will hang in a secure place near her territory’s centre, typically from a branch, on a cave’s ceiling, or strung upon a web. For the next three months, the ettercap and any spiders under her command will guard the pod fiercely.

As the time of hatching approaches, the mother will attempt to secure a first meal for her offspring, typically a few creatures that are alive but either unconscious, bound in webbing, or both. When the hatchlings emerge, they are ravenous, tearing apart anything in reach to devour, even going after their own mother if she fails to find another poor creature to placate them. After this initial feeding, the young ettercaps typically scatter; an ettercap’s maternal instincts fade quickly, and she may devour any children who linger if their siblings don’t get them first.

Though tiny and vulnerable at birth, ettercaps grow throughout their lives. Assuming they survive to grow so large, female ettercaps become capable of breeding with one another at about four feet tall at full stretch. Still, most wait to grow a couple feet more before taking the risk to seek out mates. Despite mutual fondness and similar features, female ettercaps and female spiders, regardless of kind, cannot interbreed. As such, it is rare to see sexual relations between them.

Men to Ettercaps

To female ettercaps, the only reproductively attractive males besides males of their own kind are male spiders. Within this category, however, ettercaps are fanatical and completely nonjudgmental. Be he a tiny black widow, a man-sized giant wolf spider, or a horse-sized goliath, the birth of a male spider of any kind overjoys a female ettercap, who leaps at the chance to be bred by him whenever possible. While pregnant herself, the ettercap may capture other female creatures, not only to feed her mate and babies but also to give them more wombs to impregnate.

As her arachnid mate is a natural beast, the offspring she and any victims she acquires birth for him will be just more spiders, though normally birthed in a great swarm. Regardless, ettercaps seem delighted by their children, eagerly integrating them into their flock even as their father impregnates her again.

When it comes to men who are neither ettercaps nor spiders, female ettercaps normally respond with a mixture of horror and disgust. If an ettercap thinks she has the advantage in an assault, she will try to target a man and kill him as best she can. If the odds are against her, an ettercap will try to stay far away and hidden from the man, setting up traps to do him in instead. If she is caught, an ettercap does her utmost to resist being impregnated. Why this would be is a mystery; ettercaps impregnated by humanoid men give birth to ettercaps who, as far as sages can tell, are no different from the ordinary ones, possibly even being a little smarter.

Male ettercaps are rare, but do arise on occasion. Despite their masculinity, male ettercaps seem mostly interested in fucking only spiders and female ettercaps. With the reproductive fury of a male ettercap, numbers can violently explode, with the area under ettercap control growing rapily thanks to the flood of new spiders and ettercaps being born. When it comes to other creatures, male ettercaps seem largely disinterested in fucking them, instead seeing them as prey.

As a result of this sexual distaste, there are few instances of humanoid children with an ettercap father, outside of a few experiments by heretical sects of drow. Sometimes, these children do have shocking anthropoidal features, chitinous plates, and extra, spider-like limbs. Most of the time, however, the influence of an ettercap father is more subtle, manifesting as an almost supernatural affinity for spiders, with small spiders approaching the child willingly, while larger ones may not see them as prey.

Bonus: New Disease; Arthropod Pregnancy

While writing this section, a terrible realisation occurred to me. Thanks to just how many arthropods there are in the world, there must be a fair few male ones, simply too tiny to generally notice, so small that, for example, they might manage to fuck a woman in their sleep. As such, I have devised a new and terrible affliction in case anyone is crazy enough to use this world as inspiration for an actual DND game.

In order to suffer from the affliction of Arthropod Pregnancy, one’s character must have a uterus (duh) and not already be pregnant. Arthropod Pregnancy is most likely to occur as a result of sleeping in unclean or tropical areas without anything to bar access from normal-sized, Tiny invertebrates. If the DM wants to expose a character to the risk of conception, have the male arthropod roll stealth with advantage; if it doesn’t beat the target’s passive perception, the target can wake up and swat the rapacious bug away if she so wishes. Otherwise, the male fucks her in her sleep and impregnates her.

A given arthropod’s gestation time is 1d4-1 weeks (minimum of five days). Through this time, the afflicted creature is essentially infertile (because she’s already pregnant) but shows no other outward symptoms. When the day of birth comes, the creature is poisoned for eight hours and then gives birth to a Swarm of Insects (whose specific kind matches the father, who is determined by the DM). Once born, roll a d10 to determine the swarm’s behaviour.

1-2: The swarm is hostile to everyone, including its mother. On being born, the swarm immediately turns around and attacks the creature who gave birth to them.

3-4: The swarm is hostile to everyone but its mother, to whom they are indifferent. The swarm immediately attacks any creature in reach besides their mother. Without magic, the mother has no power to influence who the swarm attacks. If their mother attacks them, the swarm turns hostile to her.

5-8: The swarm is indifferent to everyone. On being born, the swarm immediately heads off in search of somewhere to hide, fighting only in self-defence. In 1d8 hours, the swarm disperses.

9-10: The swarm is friendly to its mother and indifferent to everyone else. The swarm follows its mother around, expecting food. Unless she has the means to communicate with them, the mother cannot give her swarm commands, but they will generally stay within ten feet of her and attack creatures she attacks. If the swarm is attacked by their mother or isn’t fed at least once every eight hours, reroll on this table with a d8. After 1d8 days, the swarm disperses and abandons its mother.

As a side notes, the offspring of ettercaps who develop this condition always automatically roll a ten if they are spiders.

Chapter 103: Ettin (Art)

Their name literally meaning “runt” in the ancient giant tongue, ettins are the malformed, filthy degenerates of the true giants. Though still small by giant standards, an ettin can still stand over twelve feet tall. Often seen wearing naught but reeking hides, an ettin’s most notable features are her two heads. Each of these heads has its own personality, and although they seldom get along, in the name of survival, they will cooperate.

Technically, ettins are true giants, by the strictest definition, being descended from the union between the goddess Annam All-Patter, and her primordial wife Othea. Most giants prefer to ignore this fact, disgusted by any admission of sisterhood to a race of giants so ugly, primitive, and savage. Most ettins, in return, do not care, generally ignoring their place among the true giants outside of the general wisdom of avoiding or obeying giants who are larger than them. As such, ettins exist in a strange grey area between their true giant relations and the more distantly related giant-kin, whom they are often erroneously lumped in with.

Two Minds, Little Knowledge

Though they share a body from the necks down, the heads of an ettin are their own individuals, with their own thoughts, personalities, and names. Generally, when referring to an ettin in its entirety, others merge the simple names of heads into a single title, so if one head goes by Gaba and the other is called Wabbin, the creature as a whole may be called Gaba-Wabbin.

While ettin heads can vary in personality in a lot of ways, most ettins are quarrelsome, abusive, and seriously deficient in brains, even on the rare occasions an ettin puts their heads together to cooperate in an intellectual task. As a result, the relationship between the two heads is often marked by arguments, insults, and bullying. Since ettins know that the death of their rival head will often lead to their own demise too, and they are physiologically incapable of finding isolation except when their other head sleeps, most ettins settle for verbal abuse, backed up by the occasional slap and punch.

Of the many words that may describe an ettin, civilised is not one of them. The average ettin lives in a cave or abandoned building, sleeping on rotting straw and hides, eating whatever she can kill or make off with from passing caravans or nearby farms. Virtually no ettin can read, and most can only speak a smattering of monosyllabic terms in their native giant language, filling out the gaps with grunts and orc words. In the moments they have free, most ettins argue loudly with themselves.

Despite their constant disputes, ettins are capable of cooperation between their heads in a few select situations. Valuing time alone, ettins sleep one head at a time, meaning that there is always one set of eyes aware of danger and intrusion. When combat arises, the normally argumentative heads unite for the sake of mutual survival. Most ettins fight with a crudely made or plundered weapon in each hand, each arm being controlled by a head. In this way, the ettin fights like two warriors in one, each striking with the power afforded by their sheer bulk.

Crowd Haters

The filthy, primitive lives most ettins lead are largely blamed on their minimal intelligence. However, ettins are also vehemently opposed to forming any particular type of society with each other. Even two ettins meeting each other will shout, talk over each other, and argue until anything reminiscent of a conversation devolves into an incoherent shouting match between four belligerent heads. Most ettins thus prefer to be alone.

With other creatures, an ettin’s response varies. An ettin will bully any creature she thinks she is mighty enough to get away with, intimidating them for food and shiny loot with her strength and capacity for violence. When faced with a creature bigger than her, an ettin rapidly turns coward, fleeing if she can but also being all too easily bullied into service herself, most often by her larger giant cousins.

There is, however, a notable outlier in the trends of these relationships. In some, almost certainly apocryphal, legends, the first ettins were not giants but orcs. This orc tribe is said to have found itself in a temple for Demogorgon, the two-headed Princess of Demons. When the tribe meddled where they should not have, the demon lord’s power wrought a terrible transformation upon them, turning them into swollen, two-headed monstrosities.

Though almost certainly untrue, enough orcs and ettins believe in the legend in part or whole strongly enough to consider each other to be at least distantly related. Thanks to this, orcs sometimes try to convince ettins to join their tribe, to serve as watchwomen and brutally powerful marauders. While ettins aren’t as passionate about these arrangements, the bribe of copious food, loot, and the respect of a horde of war sisters can sometimes win them over.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ettins

Among ettins, romance and eroticism are overly complex topics, which they can do without. When ettins seek to rut, it is out of pure physical desire and nothing else. When an ettin is in the mood to breed, she assembles a den within a cave, barn, ruin, or similar structure before heading out in search of a mate, namely an ettin who is slightly weaker than them. When the pair meet, courting is relatively straight-forward; the stronger ettin violently knocks the weaker one unconscious and drags her off to her den.

Surprisingly, for the perceptions of many races, the victorious ettin bullies her abducted victim into impregnating her rather than impregnating them. During her pregnancy, an ettin is taken care of by her mate, who hunts for, defends, and feeds her for six months, only daring to flee while she is distracted by the throes of labour. The ettin will then raise her child for only a few years, sending them off into the wild as soon as they are old enough to hunt.

As a true giant, female ettins can technically breed with any kind of female true giant. However, as the union of two different kinds of female true giants will always result in the birth of the lowest of the two in the Ordning, and ettins are the lowest true giants in that ranking, the offspring of a female ettin and another kind of female true giant will always be an ettin, regardless of who impregnated and who got pregnant. No greater giant would willingly put themselves through the shame and horror of giving birth to an undersized, two-headed runt, and few are weak enough to be violently coerced into breeding by a single broody ettin. As such, pairings between ettins and other giants are a rare occurrence indeed.

Men to Ettins

With limited intelligence, rare and unusual sights, such as a man, tend to briefly befuddle ettins, who may take a while to observe the unusual individuals and argue among themselves about how to proceed. Normally, the two heads eventually default to their regular behaviour. If the man looks small and crushable, as most humanoid men do from her perspective, the ettin sees them as just another target to rob, bully, or kill.

Reasoning with or seducing an ettin is a foolish endeavour. As an ettin’s two heads have differing personalities, what may charm one will almost certainly offend or spark jealousy in the other. This leads to an argument between the heads, causing them both to forget what they were doing and default to their preferred response, violence. In order to successfully fuck a consenting ettin, a man would likely have to be some sort of charismatic legend.

When faced with a larger creature, male or otherwise, an ettin’s first instinct is to flee. Failing this, the ettin does her best to avoid injury by complying with the creature's demands to the best of her comprehension and ability. As such, a female ettin caught by a larger male creature will likely submit to sexually serving him and letting him breed her, though she will not be thrilled about the development and will seek escape as soon as she can safely do so.

Being a kind of giant, the rate of male births among ettins is incredibly low, to the point where it is doubtful any male ettins currently live. Still, there are enough records of male ettins from the past to piece together their lives. Firstly, since they share a single body and a single cock, both of a male ettin’s heads are male. This likely means that male ettins have some of the longest interactions with another male of any other type of man.

Secondly, despite their extreme rarity, female ettins seem to have no particular fondness for or attraction to male ettins. A young male ettin who instinctively tried to breed his mother would likely be soundly thrashed by her for his trouble. As such, male ettins were usually instilled early on with a desire to fuck creatures weaker than themselves who couldn’t fend them off, like giant-kin, animals, and humanoids, whom they would rape as convenient. The effects of a male ettin’s parentage are not entirely known; it is thought that the child is likely a little bigger and stronger than is normal for her kind and may sometimes be born with two heads. Some sages attest that a male ettin who became the master of a tribe of orcs, breeding them full of two-headed offspring, may be the origin of the erroneous legends of ettins as a whole arising from orcish stock.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art here. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 104: Faerie Dragon (Art)

Dragons are, in their essence, a meeting of natural and mystic power in one majestic package. In this way, dragons are much like fey. Some dragons, such as the wily and sylvan green dragons or the wise and elusive gold dragons, work well in association with fey creatures, even finding themselves perfectly at home when they find themselves living out in the Feywild, the magical realm from which the fey come. However, only one kind of dragon has adapted to the wild mysteries of the Feywild so completely that, when they come back and settle on the Material Plane, they bring some of the fey realm’s wonderment with them.

Only about the size of a cat, with scaled butterfly wings, faerie dragons may seem a far cry from the majesty of a true dragon. It is true that in a direct battle, most faerie dragons would be a less than threatening foe. However, it is not for their might that one should respect them. Experts at applying wit, guile, and a pinch of magic, a faerie dragon can soon make anyone who dares to disrespect her regret it—that is, if they ever realise that she was even there.

Rainbow of Magic

Though in terms of size and strength, faerie dragons have little to boast about, their bite and claws being little more than an aggravation for most. Instead, a faerie dragon imposes her power through the vast array of fey magics that flow through her veins. The magic of the fey, however, is a subtle magic, rarely opting for the overt devastation of fireballs, lightning bolts, or the like. Still, it is rich in its own power.

By a simple act of thought, a faerie dragon can completely vanish from view. Perhaps thanks to their smaller size, faerie dragons are a fair bit more sociable than other dragons, so they keep in contact with each other while in hiding via a limited form of telepathy. Unlike the invisibility rendered by most human spellcasters, a faerie dragon can weave most other magics available to her as she pleases without disrupting her magical veil, letting her unleash magical mayhem while hiding. A faerie dragon may also unleash her breath weapon while she goes unseen. Unlike the devastating streams of elemental fury that a true dragon can exhale, faerie dragons can produce a puff of gas that causes those creatures that breathe it in to temporarily take leave of their senses, staggering about in a euphoric daze.

A faerie dragon’s additional magical powers, beyond these capabilities, grow as she ages. The age of a faerie dragon is clearly displayed in her scales. When a faerie dragon hatches, she will be as red as the petals of a poppy, just about able to create simple sensory phenomena and summon a mystic hand to handle things for her. As the years go by, her scales will turn orange and then yellow, and the illusions she can weave will become more powerful and useful in self-defence.

It is only when a faerie dragon turns green and develops the magic to subtly influence the minds of others that she is considered on her way to true maturity, however, and she will still have phases of blue, indigo, and violet until she is truly there. In these final phases, the dragon’s illusions increase in scale until they can warp the very environment itself before she gains the power to render real changes upon herself and others, temporarily turning victims into toads and the like or turning herself into a more physically imposing beast if the need to fight arises. Most of the time, however, faerie dragons prefer good humour and peace.

Collector of Shiny and Sweet

While nowhere near as large and powerful as a true dragon, faerie dragons take after them in a variety of ways. For their small size, faerie dragons brim with pride. For a faerie dragon, an insult is a declaration of war, for which she will get her revenge. Even when not directly wronged, a faerie dragon is often arrogant and mischievous in a way that makes her fond of playing tricks on passersby.

Still, faerie dragons are more often than not kind deep down, and their pranks more often intend to baffle and annoy rather than rob or endanger. If a victim of her shenanigans takes it in good humour, she may even present herself to them, dropping her invisibility to talk. In general, faerie dragons are a delight to talk to, being friendly, humorous, and knowledgeable in many esoteric subjects. Most faerie dragons are fond of jokes, stories, and news from abroad.

Faerie dragons are also fond of gifts. Unsurprisingly, given their draconic nature, faerie dragons have a powerful instinct to gather and protect a hoard. However, the “treasures” that a faerie dragon most favours are rarely the sort of things that most adventurers would even consider worth stealing.

A faerie dragon’s hoard often consists of confectionaries, pastries, and pretty but ultimately worthless ornaments, perhaps with a few coins and minorly valuable gems scattered in. Still, the hoard is valuable to its keeper, and a faerie dragon will hide it away in a tree hollow, animal burrow, or hollow log, covered by illusions. If a faerie dragon gives one of her treasures to somebody, normally a perishable pastry or candy, it is a sign of ultimate trust and friendship.

Sex and Sexuality Among Faerie Dragons

Being filled both with draconic vitality and the sensual passion of the Feywild, faerie dragons harbour a powerful sexual instinct. From the time their scales turn green, faerie dragons seek to have sex with each other almost as frequently as they converse or play less lurid games. Able to converse telepathically, a pair of faerie dragons can consent to and arrange sexual forays in mere moments and act upon them without shame or caution. Still, these sexual encounters are most often for mere entertainment rather than to reproduce.

Reproductive sex is, understandably, a more serious affair for faerie dragons, normally best left until the dragon’s scales turn indigo or violet. When looking to breed, faerie dragons look for their closest friends and lovers to have sex with. Once mating has occurred, the mother will often work alone, with her mate only coming every so often to check on her health and bring gifts. A faerie dragon lays a small clutch of eggs, the size of a hen’s, in her lair and protects them until they hatch. In order to develop properly, faerie dragon eggs must be surrounded by the magic of the Feywild; if they are laid on the Material Plane, the mother casts illusions on them to give them the magic they need. Newly hatched faerie dragons stay with their mothers for only a few years, striking out on their own but keeping in social contact as their scales take on an orange hue.

Faerie dragons will also fuck non-draconic creatures from time to time for mutual pleasure, particularly if they are small fey like sprites and pixies. Like true dragons, a faerie dragon can impregnate or fall pregnant by many kinds of creatures if she so chooses. Faerie dragons seldom engage in breeding with other kinds of creatures, but when they do breed with something, the offspring bears few marks of their draconic heritage, though they may be born with a capability for wild, uncontrolled, fey sorcery.

Men to Faerie Dragons

When it comes to men, faerie dragons are generally torn. On the one hand, their draconic heritage drives them to distrust men, considering them arrogant and underserving of her as a lover. On the other hand, the influence of the Feywild fills a faerie dragon with lust and desire, craving a virile cock to breed her. In the end, most faerie dragons thus decide to judge men on an individual basis. If they find cause to dislike a man, her draconic side wins out; if she begins to like them, her fey lust takes over.

In order to satisfy her uncertainty, a faerie dragon will test any man she finds relentlessly. As a result, a man may be the target of a great many pranks for merely setting foot in a faerie dragon’s territory as she watches from invisibility for signs of aggression, bitterness, or any other negative traits that could make her decide against introducing herself to him. If her victim seems to take the tricks with good humour, she may reveal herself in order to converse and see if the man is socially gifted enough for her tastes.

When a man is good-humoured, kind, and seductive, the faerie dragon loses her reasons to hold back her sexual desire and is likely to outright demand a man have sex with her. However, when a faerie dragon does fuck a man, she is usually a lot more private and quieter than usual. If a faerie dragon discovers another of her kind fucking a man, she will likely gossip about it to her peers, causing the initial dragon a great deal of embarrassment for a while.

When it comes to male faerie dragons, female faerie dragons have a great many epic and erotic sagas. In these tales, the male faerie dragon is handsome, charismatic, and witty, able to fuck powerful and beautiful creatures with his formidable guile and charm. However, given that faerie dragons are not true dragons and that it is not uncommon for faerie dragons to bend the truth or outright lie in the name of a good story, it is likely that these males never really existed.

Notes:

Big thanks to Draw&Nap for the art in this chapter. Check them out on Twitter/X https://twitter.com/draw_nap

Chapter 105: Flameskull

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

In the dark depths of forgotten crypts and the dim halls of powerful villains, flickering green lights may creep along the passageway. This light is not a light of hope, however, as most adventurers quickly realise from its eerie cast and the insane cackling that often accompanies it. The source of the light is a skull, engulfed in emerald flames and flying under its own power.

More than a necromancer’s lantern, a flameskull holds within it a wicked persona with access to destructive arcane power. Intelligent yet single-mindedly destructive, flameskulls are often found being used by necromancers, fiends, and other intelligent undead as advisors, sentries, and engines of fiery, arcane destruction.

Wizardly Recollection

The process of creating a flameskull involves a ghastly ritual cast on the skull of a deceased wizard. As the ritual completes, the skull bursts into flames and rises, becoming a flameskull loyal to its creator, at least for as long as they manage to exert control over it. The ritual not only grants the flameskull a wreath of green fire, flight, and a grim semblance of second life, but also access to who it once was.

A flameskull speaks with the voice of the mortal wizard to whom their skull belonged in life. After some time, a flameskull begins to access that wizard’s fractured memories. In this way, a flameskull acquires some of the arcane knowledge they knew in life, making them useful repositories of information for their masters. Flameskulls can also recall some of the simpler yet most devastating spells from the wizard’s life.

Thanks to the ritual that brought the flameskull into being, they are already a fairly mystical creature, able to fly, shrug off influences on the mind, and fire beams of concentrated crimson flames from their eye sockets. In addition, however, a flameskull can also cast the wizardly spells from her memory using only her echoing voice, ignoring the specific gestures and equipment she lacks the anatomy to reproduce or wield.

Though it bares their skull, along with some of their knowledge, memories, and even a few personality quirks, it does not take long to realise that the flameskull is no longer the wizard whose skull was harvested during its creation, especially if the living wizard was in any way a kind and moral person. Though powerful, the dark magic that turns a wizard’s skull into a flameskull has no ability to seize their soul from its intended destination. In its place, a flameskull is driven by a malevolent, insane force of undeath.

The only real goal a flameskull has is to see living things burn, to the point that, despite their wizardly intellect, flameskulls can rarely dissuade themselves from their deathly cravings long enough to consider an effective plan to sate them on a large scale. Without a master to force them to focus the intelligence and stolen memories at their disposal in a productive direction, a flameskull wanders aimlessly, incinerating any living thing in their path.

Eternal Flame

Being an undead creature, a flameskull suffers few of the various maladies that trouble mortal life. Even with centuries of time passing, a flameskull lingers, keeping their watch without sleep, never fearing an end by thirst, starvation, or old age. No disease or malady will affect them. Forever, a flameskull burns, not even a lack of air or submersion in water snuffing her out.

Still, a party of adventurers may do battle with a flameskull and emerge victorious. Though extremes of heat and cold are predictably incapable of penetrating their fiery aura, other magics can harm them, and a mighty hammer blow is just as able to shatter an undead skull as a living one. When a flameskull is reduced to fragments and their light goes out, most adventures breathe a sigh of relief, believing their foe has been slain. Woe betides such individuals who carelessly return to the flameskull’s haunt.

Despite appearances, the embers of a flameskull’s undead malaise are not so easily put out. Within an hour of their destruction, the fragments of a flameskull pull themselves back together, regenerating into a pristine skull. Instantaneously, the skull reignites, and the flameskull returns to its endless mockery of life. Many inexperienced adventuring parties have felled a flameskull on their way into a crypt or stronghold, only to be caught off guard by its ambush on their way out.

While this trick gives flameskulls a great deal of resilience, even compared to other undead, they are not truly indomitable. If the fragments of a defeated flameskull are doused in holy water, the divine power can obliterate the wicked force of undeath within them. Such fragments can also be prevented from reforming by certain magics, specifically those that erase magical effects or bring curses to an end.

Sex and Sexuality Among Flameskulls

Physically, flameskulls are little more than a dead wizard’s skull brought to a semblance of life by necromancy and wreathed in viridescent flames. Of course, the laws imposed on the world, set by Nymphona herself, would forbid such a sexless being from becoming animate. Therefore, flameskulls made from the skulls of female wizards also have breasts and a pussy. Since these features are cut, burnt, or rotted away on the original wizard’s remains before a flameskull is created, the sexual assets must be remade from, unsurprisingly, flame, with the blazing tits hovering just below the skull and the vaginal opening being constructed of green fire on the skull’s underside.

These sexual assets can be manipulated and touched as if made of weightless flesh and blood without intrinsic risk of injury, for a flameskull’s flames only become hot enough to burn flesh where they grow more naturally coloured, typically within the eye sockets. Still, touching a flameskull’s breasts and pussy is rarely of great benefit to anyone, for flameskulls show little sign of physical arousal, if they feel it at all.

Like most undead, few people are interested in fucking a flameskull, and flameskulls are equally disinterested in sex. Flameskulls do have the scattered memories of a living mortal, however, and some of those memories may be sexual. How a flameskull reacts to these memories can vary wildly. Most flameskulls simply discard these memories in disgust; sometimes, however, especially if the flameskull was a particularly sexually active wizard in her past life, there are simply too many erotic memories to ignore. When this happens, the flameskull usually blends her living passion for sex with her current passion for death and destruction, moaning and gasping with sexual ecstasy as she delivers burning devastation to the living.

Men to Flameskulls

On the whole, most mortal men are almost as disinterested in fucking a flameskull as mortal women are. In return, flameskulls are similarly disinterested in having sex with a man. For the most part, a flameskull treats a man as simply another living being to burn. Sometimes a flameskull’s memories influence her approach; the skull of a wizard who was prejudiced against men may retain that prejudice in undeath, while one who hoped to fuck a man in life may simply want to avoid all contact with a man to avoid reawakening the memories. If a wizard was a complete slut for a man before becoming a flameskull, she can be particularly dangerous. In her crazed mental fusion of sex and violence, she may try to single out a man for destruction to achieve the same ecstasy in his murder as she would have in life by his cock.

Of course, just because few men want to fuck a flameskull doesn’t mean that a flameskull can’t be fucked. The flameing pussy of a female flameskull lines up nearly perfectly with the opening through which, in life, the spine was attached to the brain. This means that, in essence, a flameskull's empty brain cavity is also her “womb.” Since so few men have lowered themselves to the point of fucking a dead woman’s animated skull and flameskulls, as undead, have such poor fertility, what exactly an impregnated flameskull gives birth to is uncertain. Some sketchy records suggest that flameskulls give birth to orbs of undead fire, similar to will-o’-whisps. 

It is a fact that some men go on to study wizardry in their lifetimes. As such, if the skull of such a wizardly man were to be acquired by necromancers versed in the necessary ritual, it could be raised as a male flameskull. This is not often done; men often go to great lengths to ensure their corpses are hidden or well protected, and women looking to raise an undead man specifically tend to raise them with more complete bodies for grim sexual purposes.

Male flameskulls are merely skulls with cocks constructed of green flame, just as a female flameskull’s tits are. Despite having the equipment, male flameskulls are no more sexually interested than female ones, likely due to undead infertility. Instead, male flameskulls act more like the flameskulls risen from sexually active women, finding something similar to sexual gratification by sowing death.

Chapter 106: Flumph

Named for the unusual sound they make as they float along, a flumph is a strange-looking creature that, for all the world, resembles an airborne, halfling-sized jellyfish with a pair of eyestalks. As one might expect from a creature so alien-looking, flumphs were not originally native to the Material Plane and are instead immigrants from the Far Realm, an indescribable dimension of eldritch, aberrant horrors beyond even the goddess Nymphona’s influence.

Despite this deeply unsettling origin, flumphs are not the madness-inducing, callous monsters that most visitors from the Far Realm tend to be. Instead, though most at home in the caves of the Underdark, a flumph is a wise and companionate creature, often eager to help or offer guidance to the lost or heroic when they stumble across her. Experienced adventurers know that, above all other rules to survival, one should always trust a flumph.

Psychic Feeders

Though a flumph may occasionally catch bugs, rats, frogs, and other small vermin to eat in her tendrils, the main part of a flumph’s diet is the psychic or magical emanations of other creatures. Though this feeding is not injurious to the source of their meals, the nature of a flumph’s psychic syphon means that she becomes privy to any nearby telepathic communications. In this way, flumphs often acquire many secrets in the process of eating, making flumphs surprisingly knowledgeable.

Flumphs compound their knowledge by gathering in small societies called cloisters. As well as finding and sharing wisdom with each other, cloisters also cooperate in a great many ways, gathering resources and looking out for trouble. Flumphs avoid open conflict as much as is physically possible, much preferring to run than fight for themselves. This aversion is fair enough, for flumphs are almost comically inept in combat.

A flumph’s soft, squishy body is not built to take a hit; even a stumble will often leave her flailing upside-down and struggling to right herself. Offensively, a flumph’s hunting tendrils are too weak to wield actual weapons and are not made to fight creatures bigger than them, leaving only a foul-smelling, skunk-like spary as her final line of defence. Thankfully, flumphs are masters of slipping away before aggressors even know they are there, while magical attempts to track them down are rendered useless as their telepathic siphon consumes the spell’s power.

In order to have plenty to feed on, flumph cloisters typically set themselves up near magical or telepathic hotspots. Generally, this means that the flumphs end up neighbouring more powerful aberrations such as beholders, mind flayers, and aboleths. The activities of these wicked creatures seldom sit right with the kind and benevolent flumphs, but, lacking the power to fight against them themselves, the flumphs simply hide in the shadows, gathering information in the hopes of helping heroes who possess the capability to fight for what is right.

Trustworthy Guides

Despite their completely alien forms, flumphs have familiar and even enviable moral standards in the eyes of most civilised people. Simultaneously cooperative and cognizant of the needs of others, virtually all flumphs are kind, considerate, and swift to help any good or innocent being in need. At the same time, flumphs despise the tyrannical and the cruel. Flumphs would rise up against such villains if their complete and unfortunate lack of combative might did not foredoom such crusades to inevitable failure.

Flumphs thus stay hidden, helping where they can but ultimately awaiting salvation from stronger forces of good, particularly in the form of heroic adventurers. Flumphs not only let these individuals fight in their stead, however. A flumph will help most adventurers in any way she can, sheltering them from the pursuit of villains, sharing vast repertoires of information on evil’s various habits and strongholds, and even engaging in espionage in the name of justice. While the collapse of a nearby base for telepathic evildoers may deprive the flumphs of their immediate food source, being forced to move on in search of new pastures is a small price to pay for good’s triumph in a flumph’s mind.

Even when an adventurer ventures to locales where mind flayers and other psychic menaces do not lurk, flumphs are known to take on nomadic lifestyles, either as a cloister or as a lone pilgrim, and can thus pop up practically anywhere. Still, flumphs have a slight aversion to sunlight and an attraction to historic, arcane, and religious knowledge to study, meaning they often find a home in abandoned crypts, ancient ruins, and sprawling dungeons.

Flumphs seem to have a knack for figuring out the traps and less friendly residents of their homes long before they can be of any harm, and they often greatly appreciate company that isn’t inherently violent or predatory towards them. Many adventurers who have possessed the wisdom to put their swords away and have a chat with a flumph have walked away with the knowledge necessary to find a hidden vault of overflowing riches or narrowly avoid their demise.

Sex and Sexuality Among Flumphs

According to the wise elders among their kind, flumphs in their original home in the Far Realm were neither female nor male, somehow having no sexual assets at all. Though nearly inconceivable for us beings within Nymphona’s plans of creation, this seems to have been the state of many of the aberrant creatures of the Far Realm before they came to the Material Plane. Like all other immigrants into true reality, entry into Nymphona’s domain forced the bodies of the flumphs to adapt to her rules, causing large breasts to swell into existence and a pussy to develop, turning each and every flumph female like all the other once sexless aberrations who inserted themselves into reality.

While most aberrations seem to possess a degree of resentment for the changes wrought upon them, flumphs are generally fairly ambivalent about their female status. Some flumphs find their tits and pussies of mild interest, while others find them somewhat annoying. On the whole, however, most agree that they are generally neither a major negative nor a major positive. Shockingly, flumphs don’t even need their pussies to breed.

Flumphs are in no way immortal, living about twenty years on average. Still, a flumph doesn’t need to have sex in order to reproduce. Like a handful of extremely primitive natural creatures, flumphs can get pregnant without ever having sex. If an adult flumph doesn’t get sexually impregnated in roughly two years, she will spontaneously give birth to anywhere from two to eight tiny flumphlings. These babies grow to adulthood over the course of only a few months.

However, flumphs can and do impregnate each other sexually. Flumphs generally do this to control birthrate. Since sexual impregnation typically causes a flumph to birth only one or two slightly larger flumphlings a few weeks later, sex can actually be used to lower the number of births in a cloister when resources are scarce. Flumphs are also not immune to sexual pleasure and are even known to engage with sex for pure recreational reasons or as a form of “research” into how reproduction and pleasure work in Nymphona’s reality.

Men to Flumphs

Thanks mostly to their rarity, flumphs tend to consider men with a degree of curiosity. As nonplussed as they are with their own femininity, flumphs are rarely reverent or fearful of a man for his masculinity alone. Flumphs know that the wandering nature of men often forces them to become adept at dealing with physical threats and have the potential to make excellent champions against evil. Flumphs are not fools, however; if a man seems dangerous or evil in his own right, they will not be blinded by his gender and will stay out of his notice.

For a man, getting a flumph to have sex with him is generally dependent on the individual flumph. Some flumphs are more sexually inclined than others; some may withhold sex as a reward for helping them with a heroic act; others may only feel comfortable having sex with a man who has taken the time to build a rapport with them. Other flumphs, however, are curious as to how sex with a man feels, how it differs from sex with members of her all-female kind, and what giving birth to a man’s flumphlings feels like.

On taking the plunge and committing to letting a man fuck them, many flumphs are swiftly overwhelmed by pleasure. Though a flumph is not going to be swayed from the path of good by dick, she will readily fuck again and again to have more of the experience. Perhaps through their telepathic communications and mental siphons, flumphs that are in a cloister tend to spread their attraction to a man throughout their flumph companions, so that once one flumph has willingly taken a man’s cock, the rest will often swiftly follow. Though this harem of flumphs enjoys their male lover immensely, it is rare for them to become truly addicted, following the man for only a little while before letting him go on his way, the time he came by and graced them with his sexual proficiency being a pleasant memory to treasure.

Chapter 107: Fomorian

Long ago, formorians were a race of giant-kin that were so beautiful, so perfect in stature, and so capable in the arcane arts that even many true giants could ignore their illegitimate birth and respect them as sisters. Still, below the surface, the formorians were jealous, twisted, and hungry for power. Despite earning the respect of her mortal children, Annam, the primary goddess of the true giants, did not see fit to give the children of her wife’s infidelity any place in the empire she was making on the Material Plane. Therefore, the fomorians sought their fortunes elsewhere, in the Feywild. For a while, the formorians settled in well among the fey, their beauty and magical talent getting them far. However, the fomorians were not content to live as citizens of the Feywild; they wanted to rule.

In the ensuing power struggle, the fey united, and with their powers combined, they wrought a terrible curse upon their fomorian aggressors. Bringing the ugliness of their blackened hearts to the surface, the curse twisted and deformed the fomorians into hideous monstrosities with misshapen limbs, mismatched tits, hunched backs, and disproportionate faces with at least one bulging, bloodshot eye. Recoiling in horror at their new forms, the fomorians fled the harsh light of day, retreating into the underdark of both the Feywild and the Material Plane. With the curse of malformation passing down the generations, the fomorians adapted to their twisted forms even as their minds and cultures degenerated, turning them into the cruel and hateful tyrants of the darkness that they are known to be today.

Deformed Despots

The curse that causes the fomorians to be born as misshapen monstrosities effects each fomorian in a slightly different way. With arms and legs of uneven sizes, fomorians cannot run as fast or hurl rocks as accurately as giants of a similar size. Still, fomorians have their whole lives to adapt to their own deficiencies. With oddly placed or sometimes even excessive eyes, ears, and noses, most fomorians have an exceptionally wide sensory range, making them difficult to sneak up on. Most fomorians tend to have at least one oversized arm as well, with which they can take a crudely made greatclub or broken stalagmite and crush their foes.

With their great might, fomorians make their homes in the dark but strangely beautiful corners of the underdark: mushroom forests, underground riverbanks, and great cavernous mesas. Here there are plenty of edible fungi, cave fish, and other creatures to sustain the bulk of several fomorians. Fomorians seldom gather food for themselves; instead, they use their power to dominate weaker creatures like orcs, goblinoids, ogres, and cyclopes, bullying them into becoming their servants, gathering food, fighting in her name, and even building grim fortresses from which the fomorians can rule.

Among themselves, fomorians dictate power based on might and cruelty. A fomorian becomes queen of her domain by killing the last fomorian to call herself queen, and she stays in power by ensuring everyone else is too terrified of her to try doing the same thing. To further affirm their dominion, fomorians accumulate treasures and valuables, sending their underlings out to rob and pillage, only to have them hand over their plunder in exchange for their continuing right to live.

To a fomorian, honour, loyalty, and personal integrity are simply jokes. Fomorians work together only under the immediate threat of violence. Fomorians who do not fear one another will fight in an attempt to subdugate each other, only making alliances in the name of convenience and betraying those allies when entertaining. Only through dread do fomorians maintain the respect and obedience of their servants and their fellows. This leads to fomorians going out of their ways to perform the most despicable acts they can, staining their domains with blood and hanging the mangled remains of their latest victims as gruesome trophies.

Curse of the Evil Eye

Before the curse that turned fomorians into the grim creatures they are today, they were giant kin of not inconsequential arcane power, hungrily seizing magical knowledge for themselves and claiming power from all manner of dark patrons. Through centuries of brutal existence and madness wrought by their own hideous forms, the intellect and thus the capability of fomorians to learn and utilise spellcraft have greatly diminished. While the occasional evil genius rises through the ranks, most fomorians are mentally dense at best.

Despite their intellectual diminishment, fomorians still remember that their ancestors were once beautiful and magically powerful. In a vein effort to reclaim what has been lost, fomorians are obsessive in their collection of magical items, habitation of magical places, and kidnapping of magical creatures like fey. However, without the knowledge of their foremothers, fomorians rarely make any real progress in making full use of the magic they acquire.

In the best case, a fomorian may figure out just enough about their new toy to find some impractical or inefficient use for it, gaining her some bragging rights among her kind. More often, the endeavour goes nowhere, and the magic is tossed into a pile of treasure. Sometimes, however, a fomorian’s inept prodding at forces she cannot even begin to comprehend unleashes a force she cannot hope to control, bringing ruin to her and, most often, the wider realm around her.

Despite their arcane incompetence, the magic of the fomorians long past has not totally abandoned their decedents. This natural magic concentrates within the fomorian’s eye, typically an eye bigger than any others she may possess and bulging from its socket in unsettling colours. To have the gaze of a fomorian’s so-called “evil eye” upon you is to be wracked with so much pain as to be instantly lethal to many.

Still, this is only the glare of a fomorian; by focusing a great deal of malice and self-loathing, a fomorian’s evil eye can cause a weaker version of the curse that marred her ancestors to afflict another. Known as the curse of the evil eye, victims that cannot overcome this power are instantaneously warped, stricken with painful deformities akin to the fomorian’s. With twisted and mismatched limbs, the victim can only hobble in misery as their strength and coordination are entirely shot. Without magical intervention, overcoming the curse of the evil eye can take days of agony to overcome and return to one’s original form.

Sex and Sexuality Among Fomorians

On the whole, Fomorians are selfish, hateful beings who simultaneously desire self-satisfaction yet are also disgusted by the malformed bodies of their kind, including their own forms. Among the treasures that fomorians gather, mirrors seldom count in that number. Still, fomoriand do, of course, have sex with each other sometimes, despite their foul forms, or else there would be no new fomorians. The unions of fomorians are seldom happy ones, however.

In general, fomorians only truly form mating pairs in the event of a deeply unbalanced power dynamic, a ruler may force another fomorian to be her concubine as an act of ultimate humiliation, or a weaker fomorian may demand to become a powerful fomorian’s wife, with all the benefits that entails, or else she will unveil some fatal weakness or secret of her superior. More often, sex among fomorians typically just consists of a stronger fomorian overpowering and raping a weaker one to show off their superiority, possibly impregnating her if they feel like it.

Whether a child of rape or a marriage of convenience, fomorian children are manipulated to be underhanded and callous, often being weaponized by one parent to be used against another. As such, it is only a matter of time until the child tries to wriggle out from under their parent’s thumbs and assert themselves, often making family just as much of an enemy as strangers.

Fomorians don’t just rape each other, however. Deeply jealous of beauty, fomorians often seek to have their underlings bring them living beautiful women, particularly elves and fey such as dryads, whom fomorians feel perversely justified in violating. While female fomorians cannot impregnate these creatures, they receive a sick pleasure not only from the sex but also from knowing the horror most women feel upon realising such a hideous creature intends to fuck them.

Men to Fomorians

When it comes to men, fomorians are in fact fairly conflicted. On the one hand, most men will eagerly take more monstrous lovers, so finding out a man is in fact sexually attracted to them despite their appearance gives them a great boost to their confidence. On the other hand, however, fomorians have constructed a society where allowing oneself to be fucked or impregnated is a sign of weakness that may be exploited by others. Being descended from giant kin who used to rub shoulders with giants also means that some fomorians still feel disgust at the idea of having a non-giant man’s baby.

Some fomorians are therefore simply violent towards men, smashing them as they come. Others have a more sinister form of compromise. If a fomorian discovers a man is at least considering having sex with her, she might take it as a declaration of love. Under the justification of keeping her new “prince” safe, the fomorian may attempt to imprison him, keeping him captive for her to fuck whenever she feels like it. In this precarious position, attempts to escape or be disagreeable with the fomorian may cause her such heartache that she destroys her lover.

Like other creatures of giant blood, male fomorians are rare beings that may crop up only once in a while. From records, male fomorians seem to be able to use their natural sexual proficiency to bully and brutally rape their way to the top of fomorian society, crushing any competition by turning them into his simpering sluts. Despite being just as afflicted by the fey’s curse as female members of his kind, male fomorians seem to grow sick of their female’s deformities and start looking for purer, more beautiful victims to impale on his giant-sized cock, starting with servants of whole body, such as goblins and ogres, before having them go out and claim true beauties, be they higher-ranked giants, fey, or simply more attractive humanoids.

Male fomorians seem to adore not only the physical pleasure of ravaging a creature’s pussy, but also how many creatures, even those typically more open to men, recoil and wail in horror at being raped by a creature so vile-hearted and twisted in form as he. Despite this, records of deformities in fomorian-sired children with non-fomorians are rare. Indeed, many humanoids born of a fomorian father were recorded as being both strong, magically gifted, and beautiful.

Chapter 108: Fungi

In sweltering jungles, damp forests, and sunless caverns, all kinds of mushrooms, moulds, and mycelial carpets grow wherever they can find space, living off of the decay of the dead. Usually fairly unobtrusive, fungi come in a wide variety, each playing a vital role in the health and renewal of their ecosystems. As far as other living beings, including people, are concerned, a fungus may be a nutritious meal, a deadly poison, or even a source of strange magical or hallucinatory effects. Some fungi are, however, genuine menaces, even if not cluelessly eaten. Some of the more common aggressive fungi, the gas spore, shrieker, and violet fungus, are explored in more detail in the following chapters, but this chapter covers fungi as a whole.

Sunless Forests

While fungi will eagerly seize any patch of growth they can, they have undeniably found the most success within the underdark. Without sunlight’s tender caress, the plants that dominate on the surface struggle to grow. Without competition, fungi of all kinds take over great swaths of tunnels and caverns, becoming what passes for foliage and being the basis on which other creatures, monstrous, alien, and even humanoid, thrive. For cultures of the underdark, the ambient fungi are as beneficial as plants are for surface people, from bluecap spores that can be made into something akin to flour and zurkwoods whose stems function as lumber to more unusual things like hallucinatory timmask spores and toadstools from which poison is crafted.

Compared to many of the crops grown on the surface, most fungi are incredibly resilient and undemanding. Their spores are able to take root on bare rock, demanding only the barest hints of moisture and organic detritus to grow and produce their varied products, most crucially food. Without fungi, the underdark would be a barren wasteland, virtually uninhabitable. It is on mushrooms that the drow civilization was raised, the gears of duergar industry are allowed to keep turning, and the canny deep gnomes never cease to find a place of their own. It is also through the foraging and cultivation of fungi that races like orcs and goblinoids can swell their numbers, all but unnoticed until they erupt from the caves en masse.

However, the sheer size and profusion fungi reach in the underdark cannot be fed by the carcasses and waste of its other inhabitants alone. Making up for this deficit is faerzress. A magical energy of mysterious origin, faerzress is said by the drow to have been produced by Lolth to enable their survival underground. The truth of this myth is murky, however. While its origins are unclear, its effects are obvious: wherever faerzress is found in high concentrations, dimly glowing vapours emerge, teleportation and divination magics go awry, and fungi bloom to the sizes of bushes and trees, growing plentiful enough to form forests through which all manner of indescribable creatures prowl.

Garden of Zuggtmoy

Most naturalists and druids agree that, while often foul and alien-looking to the sensibilities of surface dwellers for being associated with spoiled food and extreme uncleanliness, fungi are indeed natural forms of life, with just as much place in the balance of nature as any animal or true plant. It is through fungi that the dead, both fauna and flora, have their nutrients returned to nature, and, as mentioned, life flourishes beyond the reach of the sun.

Though natural, fungi are not entirely untouched by evil. Just as many foul fiends revel in bringing the bestial savagery of nature beyond the reckoning of any natural beast, there is also a fiend who has found the traits of the humble fungus to her liking, drawing her to exert her power over them beyond that called for by the natural order. This fiend is the demon lord Zuggtmoy, Lady of Decay.

Most often described as a surprisingly attractive woman constructed wholly of fungal matter, the Queen of Fungi revels in her blooms’ ability to decay tissues, poison bodies, and warp minds. The cult of Zuggtmoy is less of a doctrine of twisted beliefs and more of a mind-destroying sickness, perpetuated by the demon lord’s abyssal spores.

Thanks to her great power and association with fungal life, Zuggtmoy’s presence is technically within every fungus, at least to a minor extent, just as Orcus, Lady of Undeath, is somewhat present in every undead creature. As a rule of thumb, the more animate a fungus is, the more Zuggtmoy’s power influences it, causing it to be naturally hostile and predatory. Of course, there are major exceptions to this rule, particularly when fungal creatures begin to acquire their own intelligence.

When Zuggtmoy’s influence touches the material plane, fungal numbers explode, particularly those breeds that are virulent and aggressive. Though slow at first, these creeping hordes of fungus spread like a disease on the world itself until great swaths of land or tunnels become pits of toxic rot.

Sex and Sexuality Among Fungi

For most fungi, reproduction does not involve sex as we understand it, much more akin to how flowerless plants reproduce than any animate creature. When it is time for a fungus to reproduce, it releases unfertilized spores into the air, a fine powder akin to pollen. These spores are generally released from mushrooms, the fruiting bodies most people imagine when picturing a fungus. Light enough to drift on even the barest air movement, fungal spores are transported to pastures new. When the spores of two different fungal bodies of the same kind meet, they fuse, forming a fertilised spore that will eventually settle somewhere and grow a new fungus.

Like surface plants, most fungi are inanimate and therefore not required to have any sexual characteristics by the goddess Nymphona’s demands. Still, just as a tree or shrub might, an unmoving fungus may randomly and rarely develop a pair of breasts and a vagina, typically on their central stalk. The purpose of these assets is not entirely understood, and many take their appearance as the influence of some being on the fungus, be it as simple as some fey living within it or as major as Zuggtmoy’s corruption or the blessings of a nature deity.

When it comes to the kinds of fungi that can move under their own power, their animacy requires them to have female sexual assets. Still, most animate fungi make little use of these features and breed in much the same way as inanimate fungi, except occasionally using their ability to move in order to find more advantageous areas for their spores to grow from, typically the corpse of a creature.

Men to Fungi

Most fungi, as mentioned, are inanimate lifeforms who generally lack the sexual assets a man would need to fuck them. When a fungus does have the required equipment, a man can fuck them if he so desires. If a man cums inside such a sexually equipped fungus and manages to impregnate it, this manifests as the majority of its unreleased spores being released in a fully fertilised state, letting them grow into new fungi the instant they come into contact with a solid surface, often dramatically increasing that kind of fungus’ yield come the next harvest.

Of course, being inanimate, most fungi lack the capacity to bear opinions or behaviours in response to men. When fungi are animate, little seems to change. Though, by requirement, equipped with female sexual assets, most animate fungi have only the barest sensory and cognitive capabilities. As such, most animate fungi can’t even distinguish between male and female life, let alone develop a stance toward a certain sex. As a result, most animate fungi react to men the same way they react to any moving object, thus lacking the capacity to welcome sexual activity.

Chapter 109: Gas Spore

Silently floating through caves and tunnels, gas spores are large, spherical, breast-having fungi filled with a lighter-than-air gas, letting them slowly fly along. For the most part, a gas spore floats aimlessly, for they have only one instinct: to approach anything that moves. With this stalking instinct and its unnerving appearance, the gas spore goads other beings into striking it, at which point the spore’s victory is achieved.

Eeriee Resemblance

The basic form of gas spore is a levitating spherical mass, usually just under ten feet across, with its breasts hanging from the underside or lower parts of the front. On top of it is a collection of rhizomes, roughly ten in total, give or take. Each of these stalks is tipped with a round, lacquered mass, reminiscent of an eye, though entirely incapable of sight. An additional one of these pseudo-eyes, normally a bit larger than the rest, grows on the front of the fungus’ central mass.

All of these features put together give gas spores an uncanny resemblance to one particular creature, a beholder. Close inspection of a gas spore makes it obvious that it is not what it appears to be, but in dark tunnels or over a distance, minds already on edge from a dangerous subterranean environment can be momentarily fooled. Beholders themselves find value in gas spores, corralling them into certain parts of their lair. There, the fungi act as decoys for enemies looking to bring her down, and the popping spores act as both an alarm and a lethal trap for anyone who dares attack the beholder’s fungal double.

What particular benefit gas spores gain from their beholder-like appearance, if any, is unclear. Most creatures with the perspective and mental faculty to mistake a gas spore for a beholder also possess the wise instinct to flee from a beholder’s approach. While many creatures would indeed benefit from such an intimidating ruse, gas spores require creatures to approach and attack them to facilitate their reproductive strategy. Some naturalists suggest that gas spores use their appearance to weed out smaller, weaker creatures in favour of larger or larger groups of creatures who may dare to combat a beholder, giving her offspring more to feed on.

Beholder Memories

Some sages attest that gas spores are not beholder-like for any ecological benefit, but because they originate from fungi that were mutated by the ambient magic of a dead beholder’s carcass. Even today, the rotting remains of a beholder’s flesh can be seen to sprout gas spores, even when the beholder herself was not infected by them. In inheriting the beholder’s aerial mobility, the gas spore also attained a reminiscent form.

When a gas spore grows from a dead beholder, however, it can take on more than just her shape. The spores of gas spore grown directly from beholders tend to contain the fleeting memories of the beholder whose corpse spawned them. While this doesn’t seem to make the gas spore itself any more aware or intelligent, those that breathe in its spores can view a random handful of those memories as visions.

Beholders are highly learned creatures, amassing through their lives great quantities of knowledge—local, historical, arcane, and downright alien. As such, some sages intentionally inhale the spores of a gas spore in the hopes of receiving eldritch insights from beholders long dead. This strategy is not without risk, however. By their nature, gas spore spores attempt to infest the lungs of any creature that inhales them. Without the swift introduction of disease-curing magics, gas spore inhalation can prove fatal in hours.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gas Spores

Like many fungi, gas spores do not have sex in the way it is understood by most creatures. Instead, a gas spore gradually releases little clouds of unfertilized spores. These airborne spores do not fuse in midair like most fungal spores, however. Instead, these spores drift into the pores of other gas spores and fertilise the unreleased spores within. As a result, most gas spores are filled with fertilised spores by the time they reach full size. At this point, however, gas spore reproduction takes on a grim turn.

As a gas spore floats around the underdark, it seeks out signs of movement indicative of living creatures that it then tries to pursue. Beyond the simple fact that something is moving, a gas spore seems generally incapable of making much distinction between targets, though it does seem able to tell if something is another fungus and thus not worth following. Gas spores are not the fastest or stealthiest of stalkers, but thanks to the many dead ends in the underdark and the general aggression of many of its inhabitants, a gas spore will usually find a foe who feels compelled to combat the approaching fungal menace.

In a fight, a gas spore is not all that threatening an opponent. Lacking a brain, muscles, or even the barest hint of grace, an attacking gas spore can do little besides clumsily try and deposit a pinch of their spores from their false eyes. A gas spore is also the furthest thing from resilient; little more than a bunch of high-pressure gas and spores wrapped in a thin layer of fungal tissue with the durability of wet paper, it rarely takes a second strike to rupture a gas spore’s body, destroying it instantly. Of course, this is exactly what a gas spore wants to happen.

When a gas spore is killed, its body detonates in a burst of toxic buoyant gas and fertilised spores, both of which tend to envelop the attacker and any creature unfortunate enough to be nearby, assuming they weren’t cognizant enough to take the fungus down from a safe distance. Many smaller, weaker creatures are killed outright by the escaping gas; however, even those that are still standing when the gas disperses are not safe. On being inhaled or coming into contact with wounds, eyes, and other exposed surfaces, the gas spore’s spores take root, swiftly taking over the victim’s body. Unless the poor creature can attain magical healing, the spores will overcome it in hours, killing it. Feeding on the fallen carcass, anywhere from two to eight new gas spores will grow from it, gathering nutrients, inflating, and detaching to hover off, reaching full size in around seven days, ready to start the cycle again.

Men to Gas Spores

Being airborne and fully able to direct their own aerial movements, gas spores are one of the notable kinds of fungi that always have breasts and a pussy. Suiting their resemblance, gas spores have these sexual assets hanging off of the same parts of their bodies as a beholder can, the breasts seated either facing forward or hanging bellow while the pussy is usually beneath the central fungal mass, on its rear, or somewhere in between.

Since it has a pussy, men can fuck a gas spore, though, of course, this is not without its hazards. Being almost completely unintelligent save for the barest instincts and devoid of all but the simples light and motion detection, gas spores cannot distinguish men from women, or any other living, mobile creature for that matter. As such, a gas spore sees men as simply another food source for its spores.

Despite a gas spore’s size, its buoyancy in air and weakness make it easy enough for an experienced man to grapple and manipulate a gas spore into a position where it can be fucked without its tendrils being able to reach back and deposit spores on him. This makes the main issue with fucking a gas spore the threat of fucking it hard enough to rupture the outer layer and have it explode. Generally, so long as a man avoids being particularly rough with the fungus, they will be safe, but it is still wise to have healing and disease-curing magics on hand in case he gets carried away.

Intentionally impregnating a gas spore is generally a bad idea. When a man’s sperm impregnates a gas spore, it suddenly fertilises many more, if not all, of its remaining unfertilized spores. Thanks to this, gas spores that have been impregnated by a man are even more deadly than regular ones, thanks to being thick with fertilised lethal spores.

Chapter 110: Shrieker

Shrieker

In among the plethora of weird and wonderful fungal lifeforms of the underdark and similar lightless places, one’s eye may pass over a mushroom that is wholly unremarkable in form, excluding its human-comparable size and prominent breasts, and a pussy, neither of which are all too uncommon a feature among the underdark’s varied flora. Unless one is a broadly knowledgeable botanist or underdark survivalist, one will likely be ignorant that the fungus one has spotted is a shrieker by sight alone, likely to one’s peril. Practically motionless, no explorer’s life has been ended by a shrieker’s strike, yet for many incautious creatures, a run-in with a shrieker has spelled their doom.

Hunter’s Lure

Rooted to the ground, a shrieker is as sessile as most other fungi, totally incapable of any form of movement aside from extending its roots over detritus to nourish it. This does not make shriekers entirely insensible to the world around them. As well as apparently being able to smell edible matter, shriekers also seem to have a sense vaguely akin to a primitive form of sight, sensitive to light and motion.

When a shrieker is illuminated or something moves within around ten paces of it, it reacts suddenly. With an elastic pump in its core, a shrieker can blast air through several tubules in its cap. The result is a humanoid, bloodcurdling shriek, for which the fungus gets its name.

While this sound is usually incapable of doing more than startle, aggravate, or possibly deafen if a creature insists on sitting around for a while, the sound of a shrieker’s scream carries far in the relative silence of the underdark, and many creatures have learned to associate the sound of a shrieker with prey. As such, a creature that activates a shrieker will soon have predatory monsters hot on its heels. When the shrieker’s call results in a kill, it gets to absorb the nutrients from any blood, bones, or viscera the predators leave behind, thus rewarding it for its grim service.

Fungal Alarm

With their loud shrieks, the call of the shrieker has been noticed by more than just the underdark’s brute beasts. In order to survive in the underdark, intelligent creatures must always be, to some extent, enterprising, willing to take advantage of whatever advantages the unforgiving environment gives them. As a result, many intelligent races have learned to harvest spores from wild shriekers, uproot juveniles, and plant them in strategic locations back home.

The simplest use for a shrieker is to grow it in out-of-the-way paths and potential points of invasion. Once established, a shrieker is an unflappable, unsleeping, easily ignored sentry, ready to scream out an alarm should any intruder try to pass it by. For this indispensable service, shriekers demand little, usually no more than a trowel full of compost, delivered every so often to its roots.

As well as their defensive use, less friendly people can use them in the same way as predatory beasts. For these individuals, the cry of a shrieker may not be a warning of danger but a song of potential prey. As well as simply listening for wild shriekers to clue them in to the position of prey in the wilderness, they may also cultivate shriekers near or within their own traps, at the bottom of covered pits, or beside snares. The mushroom’s shriek thus alerts the trap makers when new food or potential slaves have been caught.

Sex and Sexuality Among Shriekers

Despite being an entirely sedentary fungus, each and every shrieker grows with a pair of breasts and a vagina. Why this is is a matter of some debate among naturalists. Many more mystical fungi can exist entirely without sexual assets. Some suggest that shriekers are an offshoot of the mobile violet fungus. Others say it may act as a ruse, drawing creatures looking to mate into her sensory range. Whatever the facts are, a shrieker’s tits and pussy in fact play virtually no role in her normal mating behaviour.

Like most fungi, shriekers mate indirectly, releasing unfertilized spores into the air. When those spores meet the spores of a different shrieker, either in midair or by drifting into its pores, they combine into a single fertilised spore, which eventually settles and, if they land somewhere with sufficient nutriment, grows into new shrieker mushrooms. Spores fertilised within their parent shrieker’s cap will be released alongside unfertilized spores in order to find a place to grow with less competition from established fungi.

One unique part of the shrieker’s reproduction is their method of spore release. Most shriekers will withhold their spores until something compels them to shriek. This is because, as well as all the other benefits the sound produces, the elastic pumps within a shrieker also produce a breeze that may carry its spores much further than can be expected if simply dropped. Apart from minor allergies in some people, shrieker spores are relatively harmless to most living things. However, a breeze is a rare thing in the underdark, and many fungi have adapted to make the most of the one shrieker’s make. As such, a shrieker’s shriek can trigger certain fungi to violently release a tonne of spores. If the spores of these other fungi happen to be toxic, halucenogenic, or otherwise harmful to people, a shrieker can inadvertently create a natural trap around itself, possibly killing creatures in her presence and thus giving her more food.

Men to Shriekers

As mentioned, all shriekers are female, having breasts and a vagina. However, shriekers are also immobile, inert, and relatively insensitive. This means that a shrieker being approached by a man looking to fuck it will react the same way as it would to any moving object moving in its field of detection for any reason, by shrieking. Of course, this response isn’t one of fear or rejection (a shrieker is not capable of such mental complexity), but a simple reaction as dictated by the mushroom’s nature.

If a shrieker does get fucked by a man and he can put up with its incessant noise for long enough to cum inside of it, pregnancy manifests by the man’s sperm being absorbed into the mushroom’s cap and fertilising a great many spores. In cultures where shriekers are cultivated, this result can be greatly appreciated since it increases the yield of new shriekers to guard or booby trap their territory.

Chapter 111: Violet Fungus

A large, purplish mushroom, as big as a human woman with breasts and a vagina to match, a violet fungus, at first glance, resembles any oversized, busty toadstool one is likely to pass in the underdark. However, unlike most fungi, a violet fungus is fully mobile, if not particularly fast. With this mobility, violet fungi turn the tables on the fungivores of the underdark, becoming their predators.

Necrotic Touch

A violet fungus doesn’t have much in the way of intellect or awareness, but it does seem vaguely capable of sensing and reacting to sources of heat, light, motion, and certain smells within a small distance of itself; as such, it can track the presence of prey. When prey is near, however, the violet fungus has a problem. It has neither muscular strength nor precision, making an attempt to bludgeon its target practically useless, as would the use of natural weapons like claws, fangs, and spikes if the mushroom had them. Instead, the fungus has a much more insidious weapon.

Within the cap of a violet fungus, numerous prehensile, fuzzy tendrils reside. These tendrils are not strong or accurate enough to do more than flail wildly in the direction of prey, but it only takes a touch for them to do their work. Each tendril is covered with a unique enzyme blend that degrades organic matter on contact, living or dead. As a result, a violet fungus can eat its prey alive, their flesh rotting away until the loss of matter becomes lethal and the fungus can dine on the carcass at its leisure.

The lethal concoction on a violent fungus’ tendrils is not a poison in the truest sense of the word; it does not require metabolic functions to disrupt and is thus just as destructive to dead flesh as the living. It also does not degrade inorganic matter as acid might. Thanks to this, some individuals, particularly monster hunters and clerics, have attempted to create a specialised weapon coating out of violet fungus tendrils capable of causing additional harm to usually toxin-resistant foes such as fiends and the undead.

Fungal Tactics

Though fast and aware for a fungus, violet fungi are slow and completely devoid of intelligence when compared to the creatures it hunts, adventurers and underdark beasts, for example. In the time it takes a violet fungus to haul itself about five feet, the average underdark explorer could have walked about six times the distance. As such, one can quite easily flee a violet fungus at a leisurely stroll. Violet fungi also lack the brain power to plan their hunt, strategize, or even think in general. Despite this, the violet fungus has a series of behaviours that come together to make it a surprisingly ingenious hunter.

To start with, violet fungi can identify one another, and they do not waste their time trying to eat one another, being immune to their enzymes in any case. When potential prey is detected, violet fungi don’t try to chase it since it will almost certainly outrun them. Instead, the fungus freezes. Most creatures, unless they are experts in different fungal variants, fail to differentiate a motionless violet fungus from other, benign kinds of fungus. Even if the creature approaches, the fungus will not move unless attacked or passed by, at which point it will lash out with its tendrils, trying to strike its prey in the back. If the fungus doesn’t kill its prey outright, it generally drives its prey to flee in an uncharted direction rather than back the way it came.

Violet fungi usually roam around in packs; therefore, a creature fleeing down a tunnel from one violet fungus will usually run into another. When a violet fungus senses its packmate attacking a creature, it changes its behaviour to actively approach that creature and strike immediately. As such, a pack of violet fungi can swiftly surround their prey, blocking off its escape and tearing it apart between them. Of course, the simplest method of escape is to fight back. Violet fungi aren’t all that well armoured and lack the agility to avoid most weapon strikes. Still, not even being hacked to pieces is a complete disaster for a violet fungus. As long as there is at least one fertilised spore within a dead violet fungus’ cap, it can absorb the nutrients from its mother’s remains and grow into a new fungus in a matter of days.

Sex and Sexuality Among Violet Fungi

Being a fungus capable of motion under its own power, all violet fungi have breasts and a vagina, as is required by the goddess Nymphona’s influence on the world. Though they have these features, the normal reproduction of a violet fungus seldom involves its feminine parts.

Like most fungi, violet fungi use spores to reproduce. However, instead of simply releasing these spores into the air in the hopes that a few may collide with another fungus’ spores, a violet fungus seeks out another of its kind and releases its unfertilized spores while standing right next to it. This is especially important since violet fungus spores cannot merge into fertilised spores in midair like other fungal spores can. Instead, the spores must find their way into another violet fungus’ cap to fertilise the unreleased spores that wait there.

Compared to other fungal spores, violet fungus spores are very large, each about the size of a pea. As such, they cannot float through the air and must instead wait for one of two scenarios. If its mother is slain, the spore can begin to grow inside its remains, competing with siblings to consume as much of the nutrients as possible until only one new violet fungus remains standing. The other event occurs when a violet fungus manages to kill a reasonably-sized creature, normally about the size of a person. Creatures slain by a violet fungus decompose rapidly, turning into little more than a pile of bones and fleshy mulch in a matter of minutes. In this ideal substrate, a violet fungus plants a few of her spores with her tendrils, leaving them to grow. Thanks to the ambient food and their relatively large starting size, violet fungi typically take only two to twelve days to reach adult size, whether growing from their mother or their mother’s prey.

Men to Violet Fungi

As an animate fungus with no intellectual capability beyond a few base instincts, violet fungi are incapable of holding opinions on men or even distinguishing between male and female life. As a result, a man is just as much potential prey to the limited senses of a violet fungus as a woman would be.

However, violet fungi are fully female, with tits and a pussy that a man can impregnate. When a violet fungus is impregnated by a man, he fertilises a great many of its unfertilized spores. Violet fungi don’t seem to recognise or appreciate this effect, however, for, while a violet fungus will not actively resist attempts by a man to fuck it, its hunting instincts cause it to try and kill him even while he’s fucking it.

Preventing a violet fungus from attacking while one is fucking it is a surprisingly challenging procedure. A violet fungus has dozens of tendrils hidden in its cap, which are each flexible and, though not strong, can rot their way through most silk and hempen ropes in a matter of seconds. Without magic to paralyse or charm it, the solution found by some men of the underdark is almost embarrassingly simple.

By turning a simple weatherproofed sack inside out, it can be used as a hood, swiftly slipped over the fungus’ cap, and tied shut. The weatherproofing reagent makes the sack able to resist the tendril’s rot for more than long enough to fuck the fungus’ stalk. Such an enterprising man should still take caution that the violet fungus’ compatriots do not take his moment of distraction to sneak up on him.

Chapter 112: Galeb Duhr

When people think of nature, many people consider animals, predators, and prey. Most will then think to extend their purview to include plants, trees, flowers, and perhaps some humble mosses and lichens if pressed. What some people forget, however, is that the world itself has a power to it, something akin to a soul. While there is nothing so seemingly unliving as a humble rock, there is always some of nature’s power within, and with an influx of elemental spirit, it can assert itself as a galeb duhr.

In the simplest terms, a galeb duhr is an earth elemental moulded into the shape of a stone boulder, which may either roll or uncurl to reveal her stone tits and stubby limbs. A galeb duhr is also much more self-aware than a regular earth elemental, giving her the capacity to learn and comprehend the state of the land around her. Feeling deeply in tune with the stone from which they were born, few galeb duhr feel compelled to move far, making them long-lasting, reliable guardians.

Stone Shepards

Though an intercedence from the Elemental Plane of Earth can cause a boulder to spontaneously transform into a galeb duhr unbidden, most galeb duhr owe their existence to wizards and druids who directly conjure the spirit of an earth elemental and transform it into a galeb duhr on the Material Plane. Thanks to this, most galeb duhr are created with an expectation upon them.

Usually, a summoner’s intentions with a galeb duhr are to have her guard or watch over the site of their conjuration. Most galeb duhr feel attached to their birthplace in any case, particularly if it is a place of strong earthly connection like a stone circle, mountain, or cave. As such, it normally takes little persuasion for a galeb duhr to keep an eye on things. Making a galeb duhr otherwise cooperative with her summoner’s goals generally depends on how well those goals align with her own, generally being peace and preservation of the area’s natural state. Still, a galeb duhr is intelligent enough to grow fond of certain individuals and thus may do much more than is strictly necessary in aid of her old friends.

In her guardianship role, a galeb duhr does excellently. Not needing anything beyond simple contact with natural stone to survive, not even air or sleep, a galeb duhr can sit in place for days, months, or even decades without shifting. Endlessly patient, she will not grow bored of her charge, gaining satisfaction from her good work and from her deep attunement to the earth and stone around her.

A galeb duhr roused to defend her home is a surprisingly powerful force. With the resilience and momentum of a tumbling stone, a galeb duhr can roll straight into a foe, flattening them on impact. If she cannot face a threat alone, she can awaken the power within the rocks she watches over, seeming to bring them to life, though in reality they are merely extensions of her will. Galeb duhr are not naturally violent, however. Unless their protectorate is directly threatened or they are ordered to act by their summoner, most galeb duhr are happy to simply sit in their curled-up position, virtually indistinguishable from a normal everyday boulder.

Resilience of Boulders

Unlike many elementals, galeb duhr are not of the desire to complete whatever task is required of them and return to their plane of origin post haste. Since the true earth elementals galeb duhr are created from are simple-minded and almost insentient, she retains few memories from that time. When a galeb duhr dies, her spirit transforms back into a normal earth elemental, and thus her memories, personality, and self-awareness are lost. Galeb duhr are aware of these facts by their nature, and, while they do not fear this transition the way many mortals fear death, it does make them feel like true natives of whatever plane they were conjured to, and thus they are in no rush to stop experiencing their unique perspective.

Though technically of a finite lifespan, a galeb duhr can live a very long time indeed, often thousands of years, barely feeling time touch her. In this extremely long life, a galeb duhr can observe many things and hear stories from many unique friends, from the druids and wizards that first conjured her to fey, unicorns, metallic dragons, and other miraculous creatures. As such, a galeb duhr may learn a great many secrets and scraps of forgotten knowledge. Most of the time, however, a galeb duhr is happy to talk to a creature who is polite and reasonable, but she is also wise enough to test unfamiliar individuals before granting information that could be destructive in the wrong hands.

Sex and Sexuality Among Galeb Duhr

As with most elementals, galeb duhr are not capable of reproducing among themselves or with other instances of female life. Galeb duhr thus rely on the work of spellcasters or the Elemental Plane of Earth itself to bring more of their kind into existence, transforming regular earth elementals into galeb duhr. For the most part, galeb duhr are not concerned by this, more interested in enjoying their own existence than ensuring more of her kind come to be.

Most galeb duhr are also similarly disinterested in engaging in sexual activities, even for recreation. Generally, it is thought that galeb duhr are so immune to boredom that they rarely think to find activities to entertain themselves, such as sex.

Despite not generally participating in it themselves, galeb duhr are rarely ignorant of sex. With her supreme awareness of her surroundings, a galeb duhr will witness something have sex in her vicinity in due time, typically rutting beasts or cavorting fey. Seeing it as a natural process, few galeb duhr feel any shame around sex, no more than they experience by their own nudity. Some galeb duhr even become curious; though they seldom seek to fuck themselves, they may seek more information on sex or try to innocently seek out other creatures having sex to watch.

Men to Galeb Duhr

Since galeb duhr are transformed from natural earth elementals and all natural earth elementals are female, there are no male galeb duhr. This doesn’t make galeb duhr opposed to men; indeed, many view men with some modicum of curiosity. Thanks to their long lives, most galeb duhr will spot a number of male creatures in their lifetime, mostly male animals, but few will notice her.

In general, galeb duhr are fairly permissive of men who notice their presence and want to fuck, preferring to simply allow sex to happen rather than make a big deal out of it. Getting a galeb duhr to truly want to fuck is a more challenging goal that requires a man to spend time increasing her fondness for him and her curiosity about sex. Though time-consuming, this activity can generally be achieved with only basic niceties.

The womb of a galeb duhr is, in truth, only a small, womb-shaped rocky cavern connected to her vagina. As such, galeb duhr do not get pregnant easily, even by a man. If a galeb duhr does get pregnant, she is in for a long process. While a normal earth elemental gets pregnant for only a couple of years, a galeb duhr’s pregnancy can last several decades. At the end of this long pregnancy, a galeb duhr gives birth to an infant galeb duhr about a third her mother’s size. This infant does apparently grow; however, the rate is imperceptible to humans, and it takes centuries for her to reach an average size.

Chapter 113: Gargoyle

In the Elemental Plane of Earth, a great and terrible elemental, Ogrémoch, Princess of Evil Earth, walks where she may, shattering rock beneath her mountainous feet and flinging great stones into the Elemental Plane of Air, home of her worst enemies. From the stone fragments left in the wake of this eternal rampage, new elemental creatures form, imbued with slivers of Ogrémoch's cruel hatred.

In mockery of Ogrémoch’s aerial foes, gargoyles are hideous winged creatures carved wholly out of stone. With sharp claws and fangs, gargoyles are well equipped to exercise the wickedness they crave. Despite this, gargoyles are willing servants of those with power and the callous sadism to use it, a fact many evil spellcasters have learned to use.

Horrendous Reputations

Throughout history, gargoyles have been known for their demon-like evil. Adept ambush hunters, gargoyles kill not for food, for they require none, but for the sheer pleasure of killing. A gargoyle will kill virtually anything she thinks she can get away with but prefers sentient life, particularly those that are good, innocent, or in any way affiliated with elemental air, such as the aarakocra, with whom the gargoyles have an intense and ancient rivalry.

Unfortunately, gargoyles do not just mindlessly kill. With a dim, vile intellect, gargoyles take pleasure in inflicting pain and anguish upon their foes. To tide herself over in the wait for sentient prey, a gargoyle may capture birds, rodents, and pets, delicately using her claws to slow the creature’s demise before finally scattering its guts and bones around whatever rocky ledge or rooftop she’s made a nest of. When she’s able to hunt an intelligent being, a gargoyle’s excitement may cause her to kill them outright or torture them first. However, if the gargoyle has time on her hands, she might first stalk her victim, fluttering from one vantage point to another, defacing tents and windows as they try to sleep, killing pets or even friends while their attention is elsewhere, watching their paranoia grow into madness before finally striking them down.

With how famously malign gargoyles are, they are understandably feared by many individuals. To capitalise on this, many structures, from wizard’s towers to castles to temples (even those of not particularly villainous goddesses), have statues of gargoyles placed on the spires and buttresses. These false guardians not only intimidate intruders but also give places for real, equally stony gargoyles to hide amongst, able to stay perfectly still for weeks or even years at a time, until the local populous have assured themselves it is inanimate. This secondary use can be intentional for spellcasters willing to conjure such wicked thralls or an unfortunate consequence when ungoverned gargoyles move in, making a lair of their own accord.

Sadistic Sentries

Though created by Ogrémoch, the Princess of Evil Earth pays little mind to the gargoyles left in her wake, rarely recruiting them directly and most often leaving them to their own grim devices. Still, despite how unhinged and cruel they can be, gargoyles can swiftly become obedient to other, more powerful creatures. With how similar they are in their desire for wanton pain and destruction, it isn’t surprising that some gargoyles end up as the thralls of demons. However, a gargoyle can also aid the causes of mistresses with more thought-out plans, such as dragons, Dao genies, and even mortal spellcasters who magically conjure them from the Elemental Plane of Earth.

Gargoyles are not the best at complicated or multifaceted instructions, with tasks beyond eavesdropping, banditry, torture, and killing being beyond their evil little minds to comprehend. Fundamentally, gargoyles are lazy creatures, desiring to be given work with the least effort from them for the most opportunity to cause harm. Thanks to this, gargoyles make excellent sentries, sitting in one spot for an indefinite period of time, not having to stop for food or sleep, moving only when an intruder appears in order to tear them to shreds.

With the patience of stone, a gargoyle does not tire of her dull or monotonous duties. Gargoyles are also resilient and respect cruelty, so they can put up with cruel, neglectful, or even abusive mistresses for years or centuries before even considering rebellion. What a gargoyle cannot tolerate, however, is a mistress who attempts to repress her minions’ own cruel nature. A gargoyle will accept orders not to kill her summoner’s allies or useful prisoners, but repeated admonishment for things like the torture of small animals and the murder of civilians that aren’t of use to them will erode her loyalty to the point where she will likely turn on the one who sought to reign her in. It is for this reason that while a good conjurer may briefly summon a gargoyle or two to battle their enemies, trusting the elementals’ pragmatism to make them bend to their mystic control for the sake of violence, such a spellcaster will swiftly banish them when the fighting is over, refusing to establish any long-term association.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gargoyles

Like most elementals, gargoyles do not reproduce sexually. Instead, gargoyles are created by Ogrémoch from the already half-living stone of the Elemental Plane of Earth by her simple acts of destruction. As a result, gargoyles have little interest in sex with each other. In fact, gargoyles only really associate with each other because of the increased envelope of creatures they can kill by working together. If there were no less evil, less earthly creatures to pick on, gargoyles would almost certainly turn on each other more often than they already do.

Still, from their perches on the Material Plane, where sex is far more prevalent, gargoyles may find one aspect of sex that they do enjoy. Being the perversion of something most mortal creatures consider meant to be beautiful, rape fascinates and delights gargoyles. As such, gargoyles made privy to its potential often go to great lengths to learn all they can about rape and its mechanisms, stalking seedy, lawless backstreets in search of rapists from whom to learn.

Once sufficiently "educated," a gargoyle may begin to incorporate rape into her repertoire of other vile forms of entertainment, springing onto helpless women and forcing her compliance under incredible duress and the threat of death and torture—fates the gargoyle will likely bring about anyway unless she has a compelling reason to refrain. For a gargoyle, sex is not about reproduction, which she is not capable of, or physical pleasure; it is only about the sick enjoyment she gains from the pain and terror inflicted upon her victim. As a small mercy, gargoyles cannot impregnate their victims. However, some reports suggest that a woman already pregnant, if raped by a gargoyle, may give birth to a child of earthy features and power over stone.

Men to Gargoyles

As elementals, born directly from the stone of the Elemental Plane of Earth, all gargoyles are female. Incidentally, this hasn’t stopped masons from rendering stone to resemble what a male gargoyle may look like, to add a rapacious threat to their design, but experienced adventurers know that these cock-toting statues can be safely ignored.

Many gargoyles who are aware of sex and its more villainous uses resent their femininity, believing that if they were male, they could be all the more effective as rapists. At the same time, gargoyles also hate and fear actual men, since gargoyles despise the thought of having the tables turned on them and being the ones raped for once. While most mortals are not capable or wouldn’t think of sexually assaulting a fearsome living statue, gargoyles know that men are normally experienced combatants who may think to do so, either as a form of sexual justice or out of their own lust.

Thanks to these fears, gargoyles seek to kill or incapacitate men as quickly as possible but will flee if getting raped becomes at all probable. Despite this phobia, gargoyles will willingly work for a man who is violent and cruel enough for their tastes. A gargoyle will even let her master fuck her, though she won’t enjoy it, so long as her rape is part of a wider campaign of villainy.

The main fear of a gargoyle when it comes to a man fucking them is the humiliation of the act, since pregnancy is difficult to achieve in their rocky womb. However, a gargoyle can, once in a while, get pregnant, giving birth to a unique elemental creature. Though utterly comprised of stone as their mother, the child of a gargoyle resembles a female infant of their father’s kind with avian wings, often giving an angelic appearance. Gargoyles usually try to destroy these offspring, but the offspring are normally tough and resilient enough to flee and survive alone.

Over a few centuries, the infant statues grow into an adult form that, while delicate looking, can match a natural gargoyle in strength and resilience. Perhaps due to not being spawned by the bastion of evil that is Ogrémoch, these stone angels are not necessarily as cruel and evil as true gargoyles, though it is largely a matter of how they are raised, and they are far from immune to a fall to evil.

Chapter 114: Genies

When a mortal being dies in the Material or Inner Planes, their soul heads outwards to the Fugue Plane via the Ethereal Plane, where it is judged and then sent to its appropriate Outer Plane via the Astral Sea. On rare occasions, there is a minor disruption in the first stage of this voyage, and the soul skims disconcertingly close to the Border Ethereal in the Elemental Planes, the Inner Plane’s outermost layer. Ultimately, this tends not to hold the wayward soul from its intended destination for long, but the brief showing of a soul may catalyse an incredible condensation of the power of the Elemental Plane, giving rise to the legendary creature known as a genie.

Genies are, fundamentally, little more than powerful elementals. However, moulded by the soul that triggered their creation, they are imbued with mortal self-actualization and the drive to bend the world around them to their desires. This combination of power and ambition makes genies a highly influential race of beings, with the effects of their wishes and whims sending out ripples that can reach virtually any corner of the planes.

Physically, genies most often resemble tall (sometimes exceeding ten feet when their legs have not been transformed into whirling elemental columns to enable flight), statuesque, beautiful humanoids. Often, a genie will share only a few aesthetic features and personality traits with the soul that made them, in truth being their own utterly unique person. The rest of a genie’s appearance and nature often stem from what specific kind of genie they are, which, in turn, depends on which Elemental Plane they are native to. The Elemental Plane of Earth spawns forth the dao genies, while the Elemental Plane of Air has djinn, fire produces efreet, and water creates marids. These four main types of genies will be discussed in their own following chapters, but this chapter discusses genies in general.

Phenomenal Cosmic Power

When a genie is created, it is within a storm of great elemental power, all focused at a single point. As a result, a genie is far more powerful than the average elemental, to the point where most genies can conjure and command absolute obedience from regular elementals of their native kind without a second thought.

Genies are not only elementally powerful but also imbued with all the imagination and eagerness to use their powers that most any mortal would possess. As a result, genies tend to be creative and not at all stingy with their abilities, calling forth the power of the elements to raise opulent palaces, locate priceless treasures, and attain any luxuries they so desire. If a genie desires something they cannot directly conjure, they rarely have many qualms about simply taking it for themselves, either through intermediaries or directly, their elemental gifts making it easy for them to devastate most foes and arrogantly reason that they are more deserving of whatever they take than any mere mortal.

Even the nicest, most courteous of genies genuinely believe that they are the single most exceptional beings to ever exist. In comparison to themselves, the genie believes all other creatures are nothing; their concerns are trivial to the genie’s whims. The only creatures a genie truly respects are other genies, and this does not mean that they get along. On the whole, a genie will work best with a genie of their own kind, both finding common ground and reason to praise their similar qualities and outlooks. Genies of opposing elements, air and earth or water and fire, usually despise each other, their disagreements possibly boiling over into violence if forced to tolerate each other’s presence for too long. Meanwhile, genies tend to view genies of elements adjacent to theirs with only a little veiled condescension, with cooperation not being off the table.

While all genies strut around with the confidence of gods, only a small cadre of them truly begin to approach divine proportions. As well as having near-perfect control over their native element, so-called noble genies have the power to reach out into the very fabric of reality and contort it to suit their wishes. Through this incredible ability, there is little limit to what a noble genie can do. How exactly noble genies differ from others of their kind is hard to understand. Some believe that a genie must simply be fortunate enough to be born noble; others think nobility is a lofty goal that, if they were to undergo the right process, any genie could achieve.

Slaves, Servants, and Flunkies

Though immense in their repertoire of physical capabilities, genies are spiritually insubstantial. For all their pride and power, genies are merely masses of their native plane’s power, just like any other elemental, with only the imprint of a soul within them. Genies are physiologically immortal, but when a genie is killed, the energies that make them merely disperse back into the Elemental Planes, their bodies vanishing in a harmless burst of their element.

No soul departs from the site of a genie’s demise, the soul that formed them having left at birth. There is thus no way to resurrect a deceased genie short of utterly rewriting the laws of existence, and no goddess-given afterlife awaits them. As such, genies do not concern themselves with matters of piety or respect for the divine, focusing entirely on their immediate material lives instead.

One interesting effect of being a soulless creature with an ensouled being’s mentality is that all genies, regardless of station and power, are utterly incapable of self-validation. Though all genies desperately need it to be true, no genie can genuinely tell themselves that they are great and worthy of continued existence; they must hear it from an outside source. A genie that goes even a little while without praise quickly becomes depressed, sullen, and foul-tempered.

Since genies are far too self-centred to reliably praise one another, they seek their validation from “lesser” creatures. Able to reach their influence across the planes, genies seek to create legions of mortal sycophants to worship and praise them, as well as perform more practical tasks as a workforce or military for matters too minor for a genie’s direct attention. Sometimes, a genie moves into the Material Plane to take over a stretch of territory to claim as their kingdom, with the people living there becoming the genie’s subjects, willingly or otherwise. Other times, the genie abducts or has people abducted and brought back to their native plane, where they are kept as slaves.

Genies are also, thanks to their desire for validation, extremely vulnerable to flattery, ostentatious gifts, and obsequiousness. This weakness has proven more than once to doom a genie, as a cunning mage draws them in before imprisoning them inside a bottle, lamp, or other vessel, enslaving the mighty being for their elemental power. Not even noble genies are immune to this trap, creating coveted vessels for wish-granting genies. As one may imagine, genies seldom take well to servitude. Though bound by magic to obey their master’s verbal commands, they will often contort the orders and wishes given to them so as to benefit them, preferably while leaving their hapless jailer in a more impoverished state than when they started.

Sex and Sexuality Among Genies

Despite being powerful elementals, genies are equipped with very humanoid emotions and desires. As such, genies are capable of feeling both lust and love, though, thanks to their selfishness, some genies are less free with the latter emotion than others. When it comes to the former feeling, however, virtually all genies, even the most otherwise strait-laced, feel base sexual desire fiercely and openly. Being too powerful and arrogant to truly feel any form of shame for their wants, genies are proud of their lusts, embracing sexual congress performed at their whims as a luxury they deserve. This also makes genies fairly liberated sexually, participating in sexual fetishes and fantasies most mortals would be too shy to call upon.

Genies can form romantic or sexual relationships with each other, sometimes even marrying each other in grand ceremonies in the name of love or an alliance. These couples (or occasionally larger polycules) are not abundant among genies, however, since most genies prefer to keep other genies at arm length most of the time, even those they like, so as not to have to share the attention all the time. Pairs of genies also seldom attempt reproductive sex. For most genies, pregnancy is a burden, beneath them unless the payoff is significant.

When two genies reproduce, the resultant offspring is merely a basic elemental of their native kind or a paraelemental of the parent’s combined types in the vanishingly rare circumstance where two genies of differing kinds choose to breed. For most genies, giving birth to a virtually non-sentient mass of elemental life they could easily conjure and recruit in minutes by magic is hardly an acceptable payoff for the inconvenience of pregnancy.

Most genies choose not to involve themselves in the complicated process of trying to woo others of their kind and instead find their desires for affection, adoration, and sex fulfilled by mortals. Most genies gather up the most beautiful of their slaves, subjects, and assorted underlings, forming them into a harem. For most genies, a harem is as much of a status symbol as a source of personal pleasure, so a genie’s harem may include many creatures beyond beautiful humanoids, including powerful elementals, dragons, giants, fiends, and fey, and sometimes a genie may try to impregnate these creatures just to see what half-elemental beings are produced. When a genie breeds with a humanoid, the resultant offspring is called a genasi, a humanoid with physical and supernatural features stemming from their genie parent’s elemental affinity.

How a genie treats their offspring varies, but since a genie’s blood-related children are never genies themselves, the genie always sees them as their inferiors. Whether this means a genie’s children are the genie’s playmates, trophies, or simply additional slaves with a useful elemental affinity normally depends on their parent’s culture and outlook.

Men to Genies

Most female genies have a complicated relationship with men. On the one hand, men are generally unruly, actively seeking their own freedom, while constantly and frequently overestimating their self-worth on a cosmic scale, causing many men to not offer a genie the respect she believes she deserves, sometimes even to the point of possibly trying to sexually subjugate her. On the other hand, essentially all genies are drawn to the rare, exotic, and personally enjoyable, which men most certainly count as in all three respects.

This means that, while most genies discount unintelligent males like animals and animalistic monsters, they may sometimes accept a humanoid man or other intelligent male as their lover. Unfortunately, part of this process of acceptance usually involves the genie forcing the man into slavery, making him a central part of her harem. As a part of this enslavement, a genie often strictly restricts his movements and activities, limiting who besides her he can fuck, where he can go, and what he can do.

One restriction most genies place on their concubinuses is a direct forbiddance against trying to impregnate her, often punishable by torture, resale, or death. Even for the chance to have a man’s child, most genies consider pregnancy too much of an annoyance to be worth dealing with. Thankfully for them, they still have the fertility of a normal elemental, so a man would have to work particularly hard to knock a genie up.

The matter that forms into a genie on contact with a soul is the raw power of the Elemental Planes. Not being truly animate or alive in a literal sense, this raw material is genderless, taking on the sexual features of whatever soul triggered its transformation into a genie. Therefore, genies are one of the only elemental creatures capable of being male, and only under the incredibly rare circumstance of a man’s soul being breifly misdirected in its journey to the afterlife and catalysing an immense elemental reaction. Male genies are incredibly rare, to the point where there may be only one or two males of each kind of genie in existence.

Male genies are also most often outcasts of genie society; their desire to fuck and impregnate almost any female life makes female genies feel dangerously disrespected in their presence. Still, genies are rarely dependent on numbers for their success, so a male genie often does quite well for himself, carving out a kingdom and populating it with a vast and varied harem, ever growing with the addition of his many daughters. Sometimes a male genie’s daughters become so numerous that he cannot support them all, and sizable populations of genasi simply appear on the Material Plane, being the foundation for elemental tribes.

Chapter 115: Dao

Heavy set, solid, and carrying themselves with a noble’s poise, dao are the mighty rulers of the Elemental Plane of Earth. Seeing the efreet as industrious but under-resourced trade partners, the marids as directionless but otherwise ignorable neighbours, and djinn as intolerably disrespectful despoilers of stability, dao believe that their realm and its endless riches make them the envy of all other genies, a state that dao relish.

In search of the envy of not only other kinds of genies but also their dao peers, dao adorn themselves in the finest of finery, attained by the labour of slaves. In the eyes of a dao, there is no level of mortal suffering too great to let them be a little grander and be worth somewhat more.

Ostentation to the Extreme

For a dao, gaudy and excessive are words that can never apply to them. A dao’s home within the Elemental Plane of Earth will not simply be a palace but a palace complex whose scale may grow to match that of a small Material Plane City adorned with bejewelled walls, golden statues in the genie’s likeness, and facilities for multiple luxurious activities. The dao themselves will wear rings and fabulously embroidered clothes worth a small kingdom’s price. A dao will also perform acts of monetary flamboyance that even the richest of mortal queens and noblewomen would be appalled by, regularly keeping priceless arcane artefacts for utterly mundane purposes and spiceing their food with powdered gold and gemstones, literally consuming their wealth.

These acts aren’t done because the dao intrinsically enjoy them, but because being able to do them shows other dao how rich and important they are. Though dao have a bit of a reputation among genies as homebodies, it is not uncommon for them to be fairly social among each other, inviting their friends, allies, and business partners over to their homes for parties, celebrations, trade summits, and any other excuse she can manifest to have them come over.

These social events are not for the benefit of the guests, however, though most guests can expect to be showered with gifts and luxury treatment, but as an excuse for the host to show off how rich they are and how much more fabulous they appear to be, letting them greatly enjoy it as her “friends” squirm in jealousy. To refuse too many invitations often leads to a dao’s contemporaries stirring up rumours about them, so a dao must accept most invitations given, dress in their most expensive attire, arrive in unprecedented style, and subtly hint to fellow guests how much more incredible the soirée would have been if only she had hosted it. Through these powerplays, dao rise and fall in favour. Though for most dao, their status among their kind only serves to be a source of pride, the greatest dao, known as the Great Khan, is a noble genie able to command the whole of the dao race, with power comparable to a goddess.

Though most dao are wealthy enough that what is a trinket to them may be worth thousands of gold pieces to a mortal, dao are remarkably uncharitable. For a dao, everything is a transaction; if giving something to another living thing doesn’t net them something they consider more valuable in return, they will never willingly part with it, no matter how worthless it is to them. After all, by being something of theirs that is wanted by another, an object gains value for the pleasure the dao derives from flaunting her ownership of it.

Of all things a dao hates, they most despise thieves and cheaters. A dao’s property is protected by all manner of magical traps and alarms, while the dao's domain is patrolled by loyal earth elementals and monstrous pets. When a dao personally catches one trying to rob them, she is perfectly capable of crushing them, not only with their earthen magic but also with their physical might. With their strength, a dao can easily lift up and throw a fully loaded cart, along with the horse and driver attached to it, or dent shields with punches, though most dao increase their destructive potential with titanically heavy weaponry.

While merciless, selfish, and often cruel, dao generally understand the concept of kindness. While gifts and flattery are merely what a dao deserves for their magnificence, true acts of kindness, like helping a dao out when they are in need, are uncomfortable for a dao to receive. In a dao’s transactional mind, being helped by a being, even one as pathetic as a mortal, means that they owe that being, and by owing them, a dao feels their helper has some power over them, a grating and humiliating sensation. As such, a dao may suddenly and unexpectedly aid someone who showed them kindness in the past, offering them great gifts, a mystical service, or forgiveness for a crime against the genie seemingly out of nowhere, handily settling the debt in the dao’s mind on their terms.

Big Spenders, Skinflint Slavers

To fuel their expensive lifestyles, dao have the limitless stores of gems, precious metals, and other minerals found on their native plane, the Elemental Plane of Earth. Generally sending much of the raw materials to the efreet to be processed in their fiery forges, the dao get back a hefty reward of finely made treasures, accessories, and artworks. Of course, the treasures of the Elemental Plane of Earth are not easily extracted, and it takes intensive labour to keep up with the demands of even a single dao.

Of course, dao seldom gather their own wealth. Instead, dao are some of the most prolific slave owners in existence. Not including unintelligent pets, a dao may have tens of thousands of slaves to their name, mostly a mix of humanoids and elementals like gargoyles and mephits. Despite this, dao rarely personally seek out creatures to enslave unless they or their more loyal underlings happen across some. Instead, the dao prefer to outsource their slave raids, paying huge monetary sums for slaves captured by other creatures such as the efreet and the githyanki. As a show of their power and affluence, dao only buy the strongest, most talented, and most beautiful of slaves.

Despite how much the dao invest in their slaves, few are treated well. The vast majority of a dao’s slaves are sent into the vast mazework of mines from which they plumb the depths of the Elemental Plane of Earth for its riches. These mines are seldom well maintained, with few safety measures, and fraught with the constant risks of tunnel collapse, earthquakes, and incursions by elemental monsters. Slaves in such places work long hours while being fed the bare minimum, and failure to meet the dao’s arbitrary quota is severely punished.

Though most dao have the coin to do it, few actually spend all that much on the safety of their mines, for they rarely visit them, and even when they do, the dao is personally immune to most of the threats their native plane can throw at them, able to stand firm even in the most brutal earthquakes and glide through collapsed tunnels and even stone walls as if they were open air. By most dao’s judgement, it is simply not necessary to invest in the safety of their enslaved workers when they can simply buy replacements to throw into the deathtrap they call a mine.

The arguably “fortunate” of a dao’s slaves are those allowed to work in her vicinity, guarding and maintaining her grand abode, attending to her whims, and carrying out missions on her behalf. The hours may still be long and the tasks demanding, but a dao likes to be surrounded by slaves who look their best, so they ensure the slaves are kept in peak health and dressed almost as finely as themselves. In return, a dao’s troops and coterie tend to be fiercely loyal, often willing to die for their owner, since anything less may be grounds to have them sent to the mines.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dao

Like everything in a dao’s life, a dao sees their sexuality as yet another avenue through which to flaunt their prosperity. A dao may regularly bathe in richly scented baths or have her naked body rubbed down with sweet oils and other rare unguents from crystal bottles. To pleasure herself, a dao will likely have several sex toys crafted of gold with gemstone studs. Of course, all these shows of wealth are worthless if none of a dao’s peers are around to envy her for it. As a result, dao are remarkably open with each other, often coming together for nude spa experiences, public bathing, and even orgies.

Dao may have sex with each other casually from time to time as an excuse to show off various examples of expensive sexual accoutrements. Long-term sexual relationships, however, are less common since such a union inherently requires a modicum of trust and compromise. Still, some dao manage to overcome the barriers and marry, usually less so out of love than most humanoid relationships but as a transaction built on strong mutual trust and respect where two powerful dao may combine their assets and gain both a wedding and numerous anniversaries thereof to justify even more ostentatious displays of their merged wealth and power. With all the social benefits, a reliable sexual partner of their own station is usually just a circumstantial boon.

Whether or not a dao has a wife, she will also be able to find plenty of sex in her own domain. While a dao is empowered to fuck any of her slaves as she so wishes, she normally limits what she considers her harem to the few hundred slaves she keeps for domestic duties, generally chosen for their beauty as well as their loyalty and talent. What a particular dao desires from her harem varies, but a dao’s harem slaves know to be ready to fuck their mistress and her guests at her instant command. Only some female dao seem interested in impregnating their slaves with earth genasi, and rarely out of any desire to be a parent. Most genasi born with a dao patter are either inserted immediately into the slave population or banished to the Material Plane.

Men to Dao

Though men are incredibly rare and notably hard to enslave, the sheer quantity of slaves at a Dao’s disposal all but guarantees that at least one man will be captured or born among them eventually. Recognizing how uncommon men are, dao consider male slaves to be, in and of themselves, incredible symbols of opulence. As such, few male slaves find themselves in the mine and are instead kept in prominent places within the dao’s abode. To maintain her man in his optimum state, the dao invests thousands of gold pieces in his health, fine clothing, and personal guard to prevent him from ever escaping or acting contrary to her desires.

Despite being brought out of the mine’s for ostensibly sexual reasons, dao do not fuck their male slaves quite as often as it may seem. This prudishness is born out of fear of social humiliation. Among dao, getting pregnant is a social faux pas that will see a dao get ruthlessly mocked by her peers for centuries to come. While a dao can reliably prevent herself from getting impregnated by female concubines, a male slave allowed to have sex with her can always try to knock her up if he so chooses. Thanks to the dao’s elemental body, a man’s success in this endeavour is low, but it will never be zero unless he actively cooperates in making it so. Even with threats, additional magical protection, and attempts to ferment loyalty, most dao simply do not trust their men not to try to knock them up enough to have sex with them regularly. Whether a man can impregnate or even have sex with other slaves, and which slaves those are, varies between dao, but some are known to attempt to enforce total chastity.

Unfortunately for the dao, refusal to have sex with one’s male slave is also worthy of mockery in their society, being labelled as cowardly and evidence of an inability to control one’s slave stock. As such, a dao tends to exaggerate her sexual escapades with her man, resulting in the dao actively lying to one another constantly. Words rarely allay suspicions for long, however, so a dao must, from time to time, take action, inviting a sizable number of her friends to an orgy where they may watch a man fuck her as if it is a regular occasion, even as it is only one of a few instances where he is allowed to do so.

If a man does betray a dao’s trust and impregnate her, she is normally left so offended by him that she will either kill him or sell him off, normally to an ally she doesn’t particularly like, both to gain a sizable favour over them or in the hopes he will repeat his behaviour and impregnate the rival. A pregnant dao does her best to hide her pregnancy as best she can, and when the baby is born, she is typically so disgusted by what the babe represents and worried about how it could clue other dao into her shameful secret that she sends it way, normally banishing it to the Material Plane.

Male dao, like females, seek ostentation in all things. Also with an incredible degree of lust, most male dao express this impressiveness through their harems, filling them with not only beautiful humanoids and elementals but also exotic female monsters, giants, dragons, celestials, fiends, and even female genies, dao especially. Among female dao, the very idea of trying to enslave another of their kind is unspeakably deplorable, since it flies in the face of the natural magnificence by which they justify their lives. As a result, male dao are widely despised by females of their kind.

Male dao rationalise their attempts to enslave their fellow genies through misogyny. Male dao believe that as genies, they are inherently superior to all other forms of life, and as males, they are inherently superior to all women and other female creatures, regardless of what they are. Male dao thus feel justified in capturing, raping, and sexually breaking the minds of anything with tits and a pussy since it is their intended role to be his sex toys and birthing devices. Many dao have aimed to bring enough dao females into their sexual service to seize the position of Great Khan and, from there, gain the power to try and add goddesses to their harem. So far, fortunately, none of these attempts have been successful, with the female dao uniting to destroy the would-be usurper or banish him and the few dao victims he managed to convert.

Chapter 116: Djinni

Strong yet flexible in their fine form, a djinni is a passionate, blue-skinned genie from the Elemental Plane of Air. Rarely satisfied with staying in one place, a djinni spends much of their time on adventures, roaming where they please and bringing their treasures, luxuries, and amenities with them in cloud-top palaces, ornate airships, or portable extraplanar retreats. For a djinni, life is about personal freedom, punctuated by displays of benevolent preeminence for which they can be praised.

Though, on the infrequent occasions djinn come together, they tend to get along quite well, djinn are notable among genies for having virtually no overarching hierarchy they bend to, no real queen, and no officially recognised responsibilities owed to one another. In acting by their own whims, a djinni hopes to avoid becoming as stuck up and haughty as the marids or efreet and may never become so unhappily bound in the pointless rat race of one-upmanship that their scorned enemies, the dao, seem so satisfied to run. When one djinni helps another or offers help to any being in need, they do not do it out of obligation or as part of an underhanded powerplay, but because it is the right thing to do, and doing the right thing is how one earns the praise of others.

Mercurial Do-Gooders

Like all genies, djinn are unavoidably vain, prideful, and hungry for external praise. However, where other genies seek the solace of a hundred fawning (usually enslaved) sycophants, djinn usually prefer much more personal affirmations. A djinni thus develops a natural way with words, able to sway and impress mortals with ease. Where talk, not to mention their natural good looks and magical abilities, is insufficient, a djinn can usually back up their words with a slew of impressive talents curated over centuries, including various musical instruments, games, swordsmanship, sports, and many forms of artistry, to name but the most prominent few.

With so many admirable capabilities, a djinni is often eager to put them to good use, swooping in to act as the hero, offer guidance to the less informed, patronise fellow artisans to capture their elemental beauty, or even take on a handful of mortal students or a ward to impart knowledge on and protect. While this is all very benevolent, a djinni is a form of genie who performs most of her good deeds as much for the admiration she will receive as out of a sense of moral righteousness.

Djinn are also victims of genie arrogance and will virtually never accept any form of lesser role in events, even if it is what the greater good demands, especially not when the role is one subservient to mortals. The good a djinni does is entirely of their own decision and only the kind that may paint them as superior. If a mortal wants a djinni to do something, their best bet is usually to say it's impossible within earshot of the genie.

If a djinni is ignored, or worse, snubbed, she can quickly become an incredibly sour being. When starved of it, a djinni will do virtually anything for any kind of attention, utilising any form of guile, drama, and frankly juvenile boorishness to force themselves into the spotlight. A djinni’s pride also makes her virtually incapable of letting a slight or snub go. Most of the time, a djinni’s magic would be more than sufficient to eliminate any mortal that dared insult them in a crash of thunder and lightning. However, djinni much prefer their rivals humiliated than destroyed, so they will strike back at those who wronged them with pranks, tricks, and clever social ruses. When one djinni insults another djinni, the retaliatory practical jokes can go back and forth for centuries, increasing exponentially in complexity and scale until the fate of whole mortal kingdoms can be unintentionally wound up in them.

Winds of Fate

While djinn are proud of their capabilities, they are one of the few genies who are comfortable admitting that some things are beyond their power. In everyday life, this mostly extends to the circumstances of their or anyone else’s birth. As a genie, a djinni knows that they owe their existence to the random fluke of a mortal soul making a wrong turn on the path to its afterlife. As such, djinn believe it is only by extreme good fortune that they are born into the fantabulous power of a genie. Likewise, a djinni recognises that no being can determine the circumstances of their birth, their social class, or the culture in which they were raised. As such, a djinni often endeavours to look not at a person’s means and natural capabilities but at what they do with those things.

However, djinn seldom attribute luck in any form to true chance. In the eyes of a djinni, fate is a conscious and active being, distinct from mere probability or the goddesses that claim dominion over any part of it. Many djinn see this force as a nebulous, tempestuous being beyond even their full comprehension, but others may give it names like Fate’s Weaver or Lady Luck.

This force does not act at random; instead, djinn claim that it nudges and pushes at everyone, giving each the lives they deserve. It is not that djinn claim that those of lower status are inherently inferior in terms of moral worth, but a djinni generally believes that if somebody is in a servile role, it is because they are inherently suited to it. This belief seems mostly to support and justify the ego of a djinni; instead of merely being great by virtue of being born a genie, they were born a genie because fate saw they would be great enough to become one.

Of course, this belief is turned rather violently on its head if a djinni finds themselves forced into servitude. However, being magically bound into a pipe, censer, or wind instrument does not make a djinni discard their beliefs about their deserved fates. A djinni in service believes that their unfortunate position is merely an unpleasant part of their journey that will lead them to some important destination once they get free. Indeed, the vessels containing djinn are some of the most frequently misplaced by their entrappers, often by the actions of the djinni themselves, eventually falling into the hands of nobler individuals of too little acclaim to have been noticed by the genie if she were free, a diamond in the rough.

This is, of course, not to say that djinn enjoy servitude or welcome magical imprisonment. A djinni will work just as hard as any genie to twist and contort the words of their master’s wishes, especially if that master’s desires are for greedy or tyrannical ends. Djinn are also understandably vengeful towards those who imprisoned them, especially if they were once their trusted friend. Djinn do not forget such betrayals lightly, and in their rage, they come down upon their old compatriot with a storm of vengeance, their wrath possibly spreading to anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity if the genie fails to control it.

Sex and Sexuality among Djinn

Spread out and constantly on the move, djinn tend to only meet each other in passing. Whether these encounters result in the two (or more) djinn having sex typically depends on the personalities and moods of the djinn involved. Djinn see themselves and each other as beautiful and sex as generally pleasurable; therefore, if she and her acquaintance are up for it, a djinni sees no reason not to enjoy a good fuck along with other social activities, least of all shame, which never occurs to her. A djinni is rarely a modest being; most clothing worn by a djinni is light and woven of diaphanous cotton or silk, worn mostly to emphasise her figure and attractive assets, and easily discarded as the case calls for it.

Longer-term relationships between djinn are rare; with wild and unrestrained spirits, individual djinni feel driven to go their separate ways to seek new horizons after only a little while together. Only a deep mutual attraction can pull a pair of djinn together against their wandering natures and make them adjust to a long-term life of galivanting together. Sometimes this unity brings with it a desire to start a family, but since one djinni impregnating another results only in a functionally non-sentient air elemental, a couple looking for children must adopt either younger, less experienced genies who can benefit from their guidance or mortal wards.

While a djinni’s massive self-infatuation keeps most romantic bonds between each other relatively balanced, the sheer awe and charisma of a djinni can overtake a mortal admirer in only a short conversation. Like all forms of praise, a djinni greatly enjoys the knowledge that she has stolen a mortal’s heart. At the same time, a djinni is usually caring enough to avoid breaking what she has stolen. If she isn’t interested in pursuing a mortal’s affections, she lets them down gently. Most of the time, however, as long as they aren’t actively trying to become her mistress, a djinni will willingly fuck most interested mortals at least once, if only for the experience.

If a mortal is particularly beautiful or interesting, the djinni may invite them to become her consort. This invitation is usually voluntary, but a djinni can often find the idea of refusal unimaginable, resulting in very extreme proposals that can border on kidnapping, and a mortal who refuses may spend her mortal life having to reject ever more elaborate proposals. A djinni may take only one consort at a time, seeking new love only when her current lover dies, or she may collect women as she seduces them, growing a small harem—small in comparison to those of other genies at least.

When a djinni and a mortal breed, the djinni usually treats the resulting air genasi with the love and respect owed to a child. Often, these children live as nobility in the djinni’s abode, along with their mortal parent, who is usually the one to give birth to them in the first place. Thanks to the effort they usually instil in their children’s care, most djinni only get their mortal wives or consorts pregnant. Some djinni, however, see getting to have their child as a reward of sorts and thus impregnate one-off partners as a sign of magnanimity, often without discussing the “gift” with the mortal woman first.

Men to Djinn

Like their beliefs for all creatures, most djinn believe that men are born men because fate saw that their unique nature would suit that role. As such, aside from a general assumption of sexual interest, particularly with a creature as beautiful as themselves, a djinni tries not to make judgments on men based solely on their manhood. Still, men are rare, and rarity draws interest, so a man is likely to have a djinni’s curiosity if nothing else.

For a djinni, sex with a man is rarely a distressing or high-pressure situation, since they neither fear men nor feel any overriding need to be with them. Therefore, a djinni’s decision to fuck a man depends entirely on her personal sexual desires and whether she happens to find a man who she enjoys the company of. Since djinn tend to share a similar draw to wander as most men, a djinni often finds herself having a lot in common with a man as long as he isn’t evidently cruel or socially unpleasant. As a result, a man who is polite and has just a little persuasive ability can normally extract a chance to fuck a cooperative djinni.

Even when a djinni is happy to fuck a man, she is rarely interested in being impregnated by him, even if she is otherwise interested in children. Most djinn consider getting pregnant themselves to be somewhat inconvenient, and since breeding with a man would require her to be the one carrying the baby, she prefers to avoid it. Usually, however, if a djinni trusts a man enough to have sex with him, she normally trusts him not to knock her up if she requests such restraint from him. If this courtesy is not shown and a man overcomes the elemental’s naturally poor fertility to impregnate her, the man’s relationship with the djinni will undoubtably sour, but these bitter feelings do not spread to the resultant children, whom the djinni will give her love to as if they were planned, considering their birth as just another step of fate’s plan.

Even if a man is a respectable and enjoyable companion to a djinni, he can expect their time together to be brief. Even when one is a genie, a man often steals public attention from her by the very nature of his existence. A djinni can thus only go a little while with even the most charming, pleasurable male acquaintance until her envy pushes her to bid him farewell before he overstays his welcome.

This is also part of the reason why male djinn are so separated from the rest of djinni society, as ephemeral as it is. Along with the ego all djinn feel about their talents and splendour, a male djinni also takes the extremely rare nature of his existence as a sign that his nature is of a doubly exceptional kind. Most male djinn literally believe that they are the universe’s gift to all female life, particularly female djinn whom they find particularly beautiful. If a female creature rejects a male djinni’s advances, it is, in his mind at least, a clear sign that she is confused, simply doesn’t understand what is on offer, or has been taken woefully out of touch with her proper sexual nature by evil or fear.

While it is rare for a male djinni to actively force himself on an innocent woman, he can be incredibly insistent to an intimidating or tooth-gratingly annoying degree. Even female djinn, who deal with one another’s egos on a regular basis, often find the pretension of one of their kind’s males to be too much to bear. Thankfully, male djinn are not any more fond of a life of constant harrying than a female of their kind would be, and tend to spend a lot of their time alone with the harem of creatures they have successfully seduced into their harem. With his natural persuasiveness and power, a male djinn often possesses several exotic lovers alongside beautiful humanoids, such as fey, metallic dragons, celestials, and even a few female genies he managed to convince to his way of thinking.

Chapter 117: Efreeti

At first glance, one may mistake an efreeti for some form of twelve-foot-tall, attractive devil thanks to their horns, red or black skin, and overall fiery nature owed to their origin in the Elemental Plane of Fire. As far as most mortals should be concerned, there is rarely a reason to treat an efreeti much differently to a fiend of the Nine Hells; both are likely arrogant and scheming and will sooner have any creature they consider their lesser tortured or incinerated before they accept decent.

Amongst each other, the efreet are united in a great empire. With the exception of a few rebellious factions at war with the majority, most efreet swear fealty to the Grand Sultana, Queen of the City of Brass, a great city built for the efreet in the middle of their home plane. Each and every efreet below the Grand Sultana knows their position below their monarch, normally secured by swearing fealty to the efreet above them and gaining the fealty of those below. To this empire’s thinking, all living beings outside of its dominion are potential labourers to be enslaved or threats to be destroyed. The closest the efreet come to equals outside their own kind are the other kinds of genies. The efreet deal with the dao as materially rich but stagnant trade partners, roll their eyes at the unindustrious djinn, and though they utterly despise their fluid, destabilising nature to the point of frequent warfare, respect the power of the marids too much to ever underestimate them.

Raiders from the Fire Plane

Though, barring the Grand Saltana herself, every efreeti has an efreeti to whom they owe loyalty, all efreet are in a position of rulership, analogous to nobility among humanoids, though often with much vaster fortunes. Loyalty is thus not so much an act of personal service as the delegation of duties and quotas to fulfil. Since no efreeti truly sees themselves as a servant, efreet must turn outward to find builders of their fortresses, crafters of their clothes and weapons, growers of their food, and foot soldiers in their armies. The answer the efreet have come to is slavery.

Heading out themselves or, more frequently, sending out already enslaved raiding bands, the efreet strike out into the Material and Elemental Planes to capture more slaves to power the Efreeti Empire. Most of the beings the efreet claim as slaves are fellow elementals, particularly fellow natives to the Elemental Plane of Fire like azers, magmins, and salamanders; however, the efreet are certainly not against enslaving humanoids when it is convenient for them.

The efreet are such talented slavers, in fact, that many other slave-owning creatures, such as dao, will buy excess slaves from the efreet, boosting their wealth to the point where they can afford mounds of treasure, magically protected vaults, and even fiendish mercenaries and arcane constructs to help guard it.

While the efreet are too pragmatic to needlessly endanger their slaves, they are ruthlessly cruel masters who force their workforce to exhaustion in an environment only barely not lethal to mortal life. To prevent rebellion, the efreet rule their slaves through fear, not hesitating to have anyone who steps out of line tortured or publicly burned to death as an example to the others.

Unfortunately for them, an efreeti often has too many slaves in their name to possibly keep track of all of them personally. As such, the efreet seek the cruellest, most vindictive slaves and elevate them to a position above their indentured brethren, being offered the whip to avoid its lash. By promoting cruel slaves, the efreet ensures that kindness and empathy are totally oppressed.

Flaming Wrath

When dealing with enemies, outsiders, and each other, an efreeti prefers to appear cool and calculated, her every action thought out and in response to an utterly thought-out plan. Indeed, most efreet can pull this off as long as things go well for them, being highly intelligent on average and fond of schemes. However, an efreeti’s level-headed poise is much more fragile than it appears, the façade shattering the instant something doesn’t go the efreeti’s way.

When an efreeti is disadvantaged, pressured, or insulted, it can take all of their effort not to immediately explode in a fiery rage. As dissatisfaction builds, the efreeti tenses, heats up, and may even begin to emit smoke from their lips and nostrils. Anything flammable or conductive of heat will likely either burn or become painful to a mortal’s touch in the genie’s hands. Even if an efreeti manages to keep her temper in the moment, it will eventually come out in a violent manner. Many efreeti palaces have a chamber or hall, hidden from guests, filled with smashed furnishings and flaming wreckage from the master’s tantrums. Most slaves avoid this area, like the plage, for an angry efreeti will gladly let out anger they couldn’t on its source onto their living property.

The stark difference anger makes to an efreeti is most obvious when they are in combat. An efreeti who is at ease, who is fighting only to advance their plan, duels with the relaxed regard of a master fencer, or hovers comfortably out of reach on a pillar of smoke and embers while lazily flinging motes of fire down upon her foes, confident that they have already won. When an efreeti is provoked into combat or is surprised to fight, she fights like an animal, hacking at her opponent with their formidable might and hurling gobs of flame alongside their enraged screams. An efreeti fighting in such a way will likely leave her surroundings as naught but a scorched crater before she calms.

With efreeti being self-centred narcissists who often live and work in close proximity to one another, they could all too easily damage one another’s fragile egos and thus live in a constant state of enragement at one another. Of course, this anarchy would soon destroy the stability of the Efreeti Empire. As such, efreet live by strict etiquette among each other, forcing politeness and respect between individual efreet, regardless of status.

If one efreeti has a grievance with another, there is no direct confrontation, but instead the besmirched party goes to the offending efreeti’s superior, who will then decide what restitutions or punishments are in order, if any. An accused efreeti can provide evidence of their innocence or demand their accuser settle the matter with them through a duel or similar organised contest. In particularly severe disagreements, the matter goes up the chain of command until an efreeti with equal authority over both the plaintiff and the accused can be found to settle the matter. Punishments among efreet tend to be brutal, from simple beatings, torture, and branding with ice magic to death by the sword or magical imprisonment within oil lamps, crucibles, or ornate bottles. As a result, most efreet that mortals find trapped in various vessels are dangerous criminals by even the standards of their own kind, not that the prisoner would admit to this.

Sex and Sexuality Among Efreet

As well as rage, an efreeti also tends to feel lust very strongly, likewise suppressing it for the sake of societal stability. When an efreeti sees another of their kind to whom they are attracted, their first instinct is usually to try and dominate them and claim them as their own. Few efreet are happy to be so possessed, however, so an efreeti enraptured by lust for one of their own kind had to compromise and very carefully try to woo the object of her affections.

Often hiding just how obsessed they are over their fellow, an efreeti tries to propose romantic and sexual relations in the same way one might a business deal; if the proposer has a higher rank, such an association offers the object of their affection greater social standing. If a lower-ranked efreeti has an attraction towards their superior, they have little to offer save undying loyalty, unless they swiftly increase in rank or find a way to blackmail their would-be lover into marrying them. Among each other, efreeti are generally monogamous, thanks to their fearsome jealousy. However, the efreeti’s lustful heart wanders easily, and affairs are some of the most common scandals in their society.

As well as fucking each other, efreet also commonly feel lust towards other creatures, particularly humanoids. If such a “lesser” creature stokes an efreeti’s desires, the efreeti usually foregoes the niceties reserved for courting others of their kind, simply buying or capturing the beauty for their personal use. Most efreeti have a moderately large harem of slaves that appeal to their personal attractions, even if they’re married. While it is socially acceptable for an efreeti to have both a slave harem and an efreeti bride, the latter may grow jealous of particularly adored members of the former, subtly trying to do away with them behind their spouse’s back.

Life in an efreeti’s harem is usually better than life for her other slaves, though it comes with its own issues. As well as the jealousy of their mistress’ wife, a harem slave is also often close by their mistress in their most emotional moments, making them easy targets for violent outbursts. Efreet also encourage the same cutthroat competition in their harems as among their other slaves. Harem slaves who bully and oppress their fellow slaves get the most attention from their mistress and thus better treatment, such as private rooms, gifts, and even ladies in waiting to serve her.

When an efreeti’s harem girls have children, the lives of the infant fire genasi depend largely on the temperament of the efreeti and her fondness for the mother. A genasi may simply be enslaved by their parent if they care little about them, or they may be released and dumped somewhere in the Material Plane to be raised by locals. If an efreeti is fond of the mother, they may accept their lineage to the child and thus partially legitimise them.

These legitimised genasi often grow up to be knights, administrators, royal mages, or even minor nobility in their parent’s domain, the efreeti being strict but ultimately supportive of their child’s endeavours as long as it doesn’t go against their own. Ultimately, however, such a child is, in reality, simply an unusually privileged slave, who’s worth will never surpass that of a full-blooded efreeti, not even in their parent’s eyes.

Men to Efreet

In the eyes of the efreet, most men are arrogant, uncooperative, and overly wilful sex pests who are rarely worth the effort of trying to break for slavery. Most of the time, when an efreeti raider encounters and gets the upper hand on a man, she will either kill him immediately to avoid the haste or sell him to the dao, who are much less picky about the men they own. However, efreet are highly lustful beings who desperately crave the chance to feel a cock inside of them.

The issue is, however, that an efreeti will not fuck just any man, instead desiring one that suits her particular attractions. For most female creatures, such pickiness when it comes to men would be insanely pretentious, with men being too few and far between to be all that selective. However, efreet have the magical and material means to be picky. With access to powerful mages, an efreeti can scry the planes from top to bottom for men that match her desires. Once an appropriate man is found, she will hunt him doggedly, throwing legions of her own troops his way in order to capture him.

A man captured by an efreeti, considering that he is enslaved, can expect a moderately decent life in her clutches. Thanks to being so unique and perfect by the efreeti’s standards, a man is often kept safe, secure, and well cared for physically in her home domain. This security, however, is not only for the man’s safety and wellbeing but also to prevent him from escaping. An efreeti mistress also tends to be exacting and precise in her demands for her male concubinus.

An efreeti usually demands that her man either fuck nobody else or have a specific circle of slave girls to see to his sexual desires when she’s not in the mood. Even if these girls are provided, however, they will likely change frequently as the efreeti’s jealousy spawns paranoia about her man being stolen, leading to the women who were doing only as they were ordered getting punished or even killed. If the efreeti has a wife, the danger of jealousy can become much more personal for a man, for his presence can often cause an efreeti to neglect their wife’s sexual desires, prompting their murderous hatred.

Even when all is going well, an efreeti is often unloving towards her man, seeing them only as a tool for her sexual pleasure. While not a scandal as such, an efreeti gets little from getting pregnant, so she usually either orders her man not to impregnate her or only to do so very occasionally. If a man impregnates an efreeti out of turn or otherwise disrespects her, it can disgust an efreeti enough to eliminate all the attraction she had to him, prompting her to get rid of him, either by death or selling him on.

Surprisingly, in a society where there is strict order and lust is somewhat suppressed, the efreet are some of the most accepting of their men. This is because of the series of double standards and specifications that efreet naturally employ. To begin with, while there is a strict hierarchy where a male efreeti will likely be below several female efreet, the ranks among efreet do not distinguish greatness, merely delegation of plans and materials. All efreet are considered great, and efreeti women will give an efreeti man the respect he considers due so long as he returns the favour, an arrangement he usually finds agreeable.

Secondly, the aspect of lust restrained by efreeti society is simply an attempt to claim sexual dominance over another efreeti. The most obvious loophole is that slaves and other “lesser” beings are always fair game. A male efreeti who walks around with a screaming slave girl impaled on his cock may draw some looks, but a female efreeti will not consider him inappropriate or offensive; some may even praise his fashion sense. An efreeti male may then go on to show off his health and power by hiring succubus concubines or capturing red dragons to fuck.

If a male efreeti grows tired of slaves and trophies and wants to fuck a member of his own kind, this is allowed; he just has to be careful. Since simply trying to claim a female efreeti will likely have him severely punished by his superiors, he must instead persuade her to fuck willingly. Sometimes, this begins with him marrying an efreeti woman who wants to experience the pleasures and rarity of a cock, but by overwhelming her libido and sexually exhausting her, it is rarely hard for a male efreeti to convince his wife that he should be allowed to find more wives to share the load.

Chapter 118: Marid

An oddly harmonious combination of variably piscine features and an elegant, more often beautiful humanoid build, if somewhat larger than the average human, marids are the genies native to the Elemental Plane of Water. Happy in their personal undersea fortresses, island resorts, or vast luxury ocean liners, Marids are some of the most independent of genies, each on their own quests to gather knowledge and treasures for themselves.

Whereas the dao labour pitiably for the slim chance to become the Khan and the efreet dare to insult what it means to be a genie by labouring under the Sultana, marids have no singular leader to yoke them. At the same time, a marid will not understate her grandeur as the nomadic, humorously unsophisticated djinn do. No marid is expected to serve another, for all marids rule what is theirs. Where other genies of equal standing may call each other "sister,"  "ma'am,"  or by their unadorned names, a meeting of marids will be replete with noble and royal titles. No marid is just a marid; she will be a queen, a grand chancellor, a mufti, a shahbanu, a khedive, and thousands of other titles to suit her pleasure.

Resplendent Royalty

Considering herself the most royal of royalty, a marid leads a life of luxury and excellence. Wherever a marid chooses to live, it will be an abode beyond the magnificence of any mortal noblewoman, likely sculpted from the finest coral, adorned with priceless shells and pearls, and enchanted with all the arcane accoutrements she could desire. Able to breathe air and water and glide through both with ease, a marid cares little where her domain lies as long as it is a beautiful vista to which she can lay her claim. Most marids have their homes exhibit both aquatic and terrestrial environments, with some sections submerged to host fully aquatic servants or guests like merfolk, while other rooms and courtyards are magically filled with air to accommodate non-amphibious individuals and treasures that may suffer water damage, like paintings.

As well as using it to decorate their homes, marids also acquire treasures that they may use to exemplify their own wonder, wearing beautiful jewellery, fine silks, and ceremonial arms (typically tridents) on their person. Preferring not to sully themselves with direct combat (though they are far from incapable), marids also avail themselves not only of a personal garrison but also of an array of powerful aquatic pets, such as tamed sharks, giant octopi, water elementals, and even dragon turtles, that not only provide personal security but again show her incredible wealth and power.

Like all genies, however, all of this ostentation is meaningless to a marid unless she has someone to express awe and give praise for it. Marids don’t tend to interact with each other often enough to provide a reliable supply of praise. This is not to say that marids dislike each other; on the contrary, while individual marids often live far apart, they often form close bonds of genuine friendship with one another, visiting with lavish gifts and arranging grand parties to meet each other at.

Instead of relying solely on her distant friends to give her praise, a marid typically does the same as many genies, taking mortal servants to live within her domain and worship her. Compared to other genies like the dao and the efreet, marids don’t lay claim to nearly as many underlings and don’t work them nearly as hard, with most servants being able to live pretty much the same lives they did before being brought in, albeit within the marid’s watery domain and in service to her. Though a marid will collect a few serfs to fish, sift the water for treasure, and perform menial labour for her, she most strongly seeks the prestige of skilled servants, artisans and entertainers of notable talent, even willing to kidnap such individuals if they can't use kinder means.

Despite the better treatment those under her employ can expect, however, a marid considers most humanoids to be a naturally lesser creature to herself whose correct place in life is in service to or fawning over her. Only powerful spellcasters and exceptional leaders among mortals can possibly receive the honour of being allowed on almost equal footing with a marid. Sometimes, a marid’s arrogance can prove their undoing as wizards play on their pride to imprison them in bottles, sea shells, and decanters.

Wise Embellishers

Above servants or even treasure, marids seek out knowledge and history. Though not quite as adventurous as, say, a djinni, a marid will head out far from her usual domain in the name of her personal education, spending fortunes on scholars, mages, and historians to educate her, and will readily watch events of great import take place, under an illusory disguise or simply hidden in invisibility.

A marid will pick up virtually any knowledge she comes across, storing it within her perfect immortal memory. As such, a marid’s knowledge can be shockingly vast and varied. A given marid may be able to identify individual breeds of fish, sea slugs, or kelp at a glance; she might be able to identify the builders and age of a ship or sunken building by only its broken prow or scattered masonry; or she might even be a scholar of the arcane, not only in theory but by taking up wizardry or bardic magic to support her natural magical abilities.

While marids tend to find all kinds of trivia delightful, their favourite facts are those that come with interesting stories attached. If one finds themselves the guest of a marid, she may find it pertinent to reward one for any stories she has not yet heard, especially if they praise marids in general and her specifically, or offer derision and mockery to her enemies. Of course, one should be careful when offering this kind of entertainment, lest the marid decide the most appropriate reward is “permission” to stay in her domain for the rest of one’s living days.

Being immortal, most marids acquire countless stories and nuggets of wisdom over the centuries. As such, a marid can be a valuable source of information, be it prophecy, lost histories, or the like, which many adventurers may quest for to attain guidance. Thankfully, unlike many knowledgeable immortals, marids are usually all too happy to give up what they know. If there is one thing marids adore more than hearing a good story, it is telling a great one.

Across the planes, the talent marids have to tell brilliant and engaging stories is the stuff of legend. Able to keep an audience enraptured for hours or even days with epic legends, split sides with humour, and weave mysteries that can leave listeners obsessing for years to come, there are few mortal orators who can do better than even the average marid, a fact the marids take pride in. While this means a guest spending an evening with a marid hostess has a lot to look forward to in terms of entertainment, there are a few barriers for individuals actually looking to learn from a marid’s tales.

First of all, a marid telling a story inevitably takes her time, padding out the tale with convoluted metaphors, winding tangents, and background information that has little to do with the issue at hand. As such, a listener must normally sit through several minutes of unimportant fluff in order to pick out pieces of key information. Marids do not tolerate interruptions to their stories, and there is no easier way of enraging a marid than demanding she get to the damn point.

The other issue is that, regardless of her audience’s stated reason for requesting a story, a marid’s first and only true motivation in storytelling is entertainment value. If a marid feels the story in its natural state lacks its true entertainment potential, she will alter it until it suits her desires. As such, for all the vital information a marid may share through her tales, she will also exaggerate points of interest, make unannounced guesses to flub through points of uncertainty, twist words to make them seem to suit her agenda, and even make bold-faced lies in the name of a compelling narrative.

Sex and Sexuality Among Marids

On the whole, marids tend to live separated from their own kind, often being the only marid in her dominion, often a sphere of influence in the Elemental Plane of Water, or occasionally in the seas of the Material Plane, that can be anywhere from a couple hundred to several hundred miles in diameter, with only her servants to keep her company. Unlike other genies, marids rarely keep any of their indentured servants as concubines and rarely have a harem. Indeed, a servant would likely have to persuade her mistress into having sex in order to be fucked or impregnated by a marid.

Despite their isolation, marids usually keep in relatively frequent contact with their neighbours through messengers and occasional visits. On the whole, marids don’t feel compelled to compete with each other nearly as fiercely as many other genies do, allowing for the birth of strong, genuine, long-distance friendships. Though these bonds are strong, marids rarely engage in sexual relationships with each other. When they do, these relationships are rarely intended to be long-term, more often being the fooling around of younger marids who are still establishing themselves.

This is not to say that marids are not lustful creatures. Like most genies, marids feel their passions strongly, their sexual ones included. A marid may express their sexual desires in all manner of ways, from commissioned artistry and fine yet scandalous outfits to the achingly lewd details she might add to a story with an erotic component. Seeing all of this, it becomes clear that marids are both horny and unashamed of that fact. The only reason that most marids avoid acting on their desires is a stronger desire to save themselves for a worthy partner.

Men to Marids

Like most genies and most women capable of self-respect, marids take a dim view of men who come out of nowhere and try to thrust sex upon them and will have such rude men removed from their presence. Outside of that one understandable situation, however, marids are some of the most man-keen genies in existence. In their own vision of greatness, where a marid crowns herself as queen of queens, it only seems right for her to have a royal consort to suit the image, and it is only fair in her mind that she, as the most exceptional monarch, has the most exceptional spouse, that being a man.

Using scrying magic, marids seek out men that suit their personal desires. Typically, marids prefer men of an intellectual or charismatic bent, be they artists, performers, sages, or scholars. Most popular among the marids are male wizards, sorcerers, and bards. When a marid sets her sights on a man of the most desirable talents, along with traits that she finds personally appealing, she becomes dogged in her pursuits. Either striking out herself or working through intermediaries, the marid endeavours to draw in or abduct the man to her domain to become her husband and prince consort, whether he is interested or not.

When a marid gets her hands on a man, she pulls out all the stops to marry him, dressing him in fine clothes and herself in a priceless wedding gown, all to be worn to an ostentatious ceremony of her own designs within her grandest citadel, complete with banquets, live music, and every entertainment she can desire.

The life of a marid’s husband is somewhat varied; typically, he will be unable to leave her home without her accompaniment, though the extent of a marid’s home can be large indeed. Who a man is allowed to fuck varies between marids; some brook no infidelity and guard him jealously; others permit him a harem of select servants or permission to fuck any woman the marid considers to be under her power, so long as she receives the lion’s share of his cock and affections.

One individual a marid will never let her husband fuck is another marid. The effort of finding a husband is a difficult one, one that not all marids are successful at. As such, it is not uncommon for unmarried marids to sometimes consider stealing their contemporary’s husband, either by tempting him to switch loyalties with promises of gifts and greater freedom or by simply kidnapping him again. As such, a marid is always vigilant around her husband when another of her kind or their servants come to visit.

While most genies find pregnancy to be an inconvenience or source of shame, most marids believe that having a few children by their consort is highly desirable in order to round out the image of a royal family. Thanks to being an elemental, a marid’s fertility is low, so even when she fucks her man multiple times per day, there will often be gaps of several years between each water genasi daughter. Most of the time, marids are fascinated and seem to dote heavily on their daughters, encouraging their natural talents, whatever they may be, and giving them titles like princess, duchess, high priestess, archmagi, admiral, and commadore as suiting their talents.

However, the feelings a marid has for her children are not the same as those a humanoid mother has for theirs. No matter how much a marid may seem to care for her daughter, it is in truth more akin to how a pet is loved by its owner or a doll by the child it was bought for. A water genasi, though descended from her, is still a lesser creature in the marid’s eyes, their wishes and emotions being secondary to her own. If a marid ceases to be entertained by her daughter, she will simply ignore them or cast them aside in favour of more impressive offspring.

Though, in theory, they would be superior to being with a mortal man, male marids are generally not all that popular as potential mates for their female counterparts. For one, the resultant offspring of a male and female marid would be a plain, unintelligent water elemental. Secondly, since all marids accept each other as royalty, a female marid would not be able to make a marid husband into an inferior prince consort and would instead have to treat him as an equal.

Fortunately, male marids seem perfectly happy to find love and sexual fulfilment among “lesser creatures” namely their humanoid servants. However, while most male genies see mortal women as mere tools to exert their lust upon, male marids generally value their women on a much more personal level, considering each and every woman under his dominion to be his bride, deserving to have the love they gave him given back to them. Using his encyclopaedic memory, a marid remembers his every wife’s name as well as their interests, common and sexual talents, and precisely how to fill each of them with ecstasy.

Chapter 119: Ghost

When a mortal being dies, its soul is ushered from the plane of its death to the Fugue Plane, where it is judged and then sent off to the afterlife most fitting for it. At least, that is how death should progress. Most of the time, the process of a soul’s journey is routed enough to run without disruption or issue for the countless mortals that pass on every single day, effectively guided on their way by psychopomps such as Sehanine Moonbow for the elves, the halflings Urogalan, and Myrkul, who awaits most others. Sometimes, however, these guides cannot find an unfortunate soul, perhaps because they died in a place veiled heavily in accursed power, such as the domain of a lich, wight, or other foul undead.

Most of the time, however, the bindings that keep a deceased soul tied to their plane of death (usually one of the Inner Planes) are self-made. Fears, doubts, and regrets can all tie a soul to specific things, places, and individuals strongly enough to resist removal by even a death goddess. Myrkul in particular is known to invest vanishingly little energy in persuading spirits that offer resistance to move on, making races without their own psychopomps particularly vulnerable to being left behind. Being permitted to stay on even after life has ended may seem like an act of mercy, but it is anything but. A soul unable to move on persists only in a half-life, bound in misery and obsession as a ghost.

Unfinished Business

Most ghosts owe their pitiable existence to something in their mortal lives that they feel either obsessively attached to or in dire need to accomplish. The ghost of a knight may need to see her final quest carried out to completion, unable to leave her rusting sword behind until then. A writer may need to break her obsession over her unfinished book’s final chapter, lingering in her study as she ponders the perfect conclusion for years.

For many ghosts, the drive to complete their unfinished business and escape the misery of their unlives is so great that they may act in ways they would never have thought to do in life, even bending the bounds of their living morality in the name of escape. The ghostly knight may possess a living person, snatching their body and taking over their mind in order to take up her sword once more and continue her quest. Other ghosts become trapped in mazes of uncertainty and misinterpret their needs. An author's ghost who needs to come to peace with her final work may instead decide that it is through the story’s perfect conclusion that she will pass on, driving herself deeper into obsession as she pursues the unattainable goal.

When the living must deal with a ghost, the best and often simplest way to do so is to resolve their unfinished business. Many ghosts are all too willing to cooperate in this endeavour, eager for assistance out of their sorry state. Others seem cooperative at first but will ultimately get in the way of their own ascension. The ghost of a girl who needs to come to peace with her abuse in life may react violently to the house in which the abuse happened being burned down, even if it is what continues to remind her of her suffering and keeps her spirit bound. A ghost enraged can be incredibly dangerous; not only can they possess the unprepared, but they can drain life from the living with a single touch and fill them with otherworldly terror by their mere visage, causing victims to spontaneously age by decades in the worst cases.

Some ghosts, especially those who were of a wicked nature in life, are bound not by a quest for self-improvement or completion of personal business but by vindictive malice. Such a ghost may not rest until they have seen a certain family die, an individual’s life brought to ruins, or a specific abode or treasures of theirs rendered utterly unapproachable by anyone. When a ghost’s unfinished business is physically impossible or ethically unconscionable to help achieve, the only option left is to exorcise the ghost, forcefully casting it into the afterlife with magical abjuration, or sever its ties to the world of the living with physical violence. This is easier said than done; not only will most ghosts fight viciously against such an assault, but a ghost’s insubstantial nature makes mundane weaponry and even most spells only minimally damaging to her. A ghost can even slip into the Ethereal Plane, the passage that connects the Fugue Plane to the Inner Planes, where she can become completely untouchable or even undetectable, depending on how deeply she retreats.

Ghosts are, however, deeply connected to the circumstances of their mortal lives and their deaths. As such, one may be able to subvert a ghost’s defences with knowledge of their history. The ghost of a miner, for example, might only be truly harmed when struck by mining equipment, while the smell of a roast in the oven may force a chef’s ghost out of her ethereal refuge. Even if one does manage to defeat a ghost in combat, however, this method of dealing with them is far from perfect. If a defeated ghost’s ties to the world of the living remain strong enough, they may eventually return.

Haunting Presence

All ghosts, even the most innocently lost or benevolently good-hearted, are undead beings from which copious negative energy flows. As such, wherever a ghost is allowed to persist, the living will suffer. In a location haunted by one or more ghosts, spots of air turn cold without natural cause, frost crawls unseasonably across windows, forming eerie messages, while paintings, frescos, and other artworks take on subtly more brutal and horrifying expressions. If a haunting is unattended for too long or the ghost becomes overemotional, more violent phenomena may occur: objects might fling themselves violently across rooms, furnishings may come to life hostile to the living, and corpses may rise from their graves.

Even if the manifestations spawned from a ghost’s presence remain relatively benign, a ghost's presence can be devastating to the living, especially those who unknowingly share its abode. Along with all the subtle, grim signs a place is haunted, the domain of a ghost is enshrouded in a palpable aura of desperation, isolation, and misery. As days pass, living people slowly begin to absorb the ghost-made aura of depression, filling them with paranoia, nihilism, and dread. After a while, the proximity to such a fountain of negative energy also begins to affect the physical health of living residents, inviting sickness, frailty, and an early onset of aging. If the person doesn’t escape the place in time, these emotions and ailments may send them to an early grave or drive them completely insane.

All of these ghastly events are not under a ghost’s control, unfortunately; they are merely side effects of their undead nature. Recognising how harmful they are to the living, many of the kindliest ghosts work the hardest to actively frighten people from their haunts, preferring to compound their loneliness rather than risk innocent people coming to harm. In any case, most areas that are home to ghosts eventually come to the attention of the living locals.

When nobody is equipped to deal with the haunting, as is often the case in many small, out of the way hamlets, the locals usually make do by simply barring access to the site, leaving any building there to rot, and often unintentionally weaving the ghost’s presence into their local history, abstracting its identity and behaviours to such a point that individuals actually looking to free the ghost’s suffering spirit must sift through mountains of tall tales to find the nuggets of truth.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ghosts

Being an undead creature, a female ghost generally cannot breed with other ghosts or any other female creature, her vagina and womb being a completely infertile spectral duplicate of what she had in life, akin to the rest of her immaterial body. Still, despite being useless in undeath, ghosts retain the appearance of their living bodies, including, oddly enough, their clothes and equipment.

Despite apparel being merely a non-living covering over a person’s body, rather than being an extension of that body, few ghost manifest in the nude. Most ghosts appear to be wearing whatever they were wearing on their deaths or else will be clothed in whatever attire they most associated with their lifestyle, a dead soldier may find herself in her armour as a ghost while a jester’s ghost may be dressed in their motley garb even if both died wearing something else. Some ghosts even carry ghostly copies of objects significant to them while they were alive, such as a warrior’s weapon or an artisan’s tools.

Regardless of a ghost’s attire and equipment, it will not truly be made of the material matter of its natural construction, but instead be an extension of the ghost’s body. Many arcane and theological scholars theorise that ghosts appear to be clothed because people generally consider their clothing to be an extension of who they are. As a result, if a ghost tries to disrobe or put their ghostly possessions down, the items will instead vanish, only to appear again when the ghost is no longer thinking of being rid of them. Some incidents have shown that a ghost’s clothing can disappear unbidden if she comes to believe that sex is imminent. Inspiring this state in a ghost is easier said than done, however.

Being generally driven to escape their ghostly state rather than engage in the pleasures of the living world, most ghosts pay less heed to matters of sex than they did in life. Still, a ghost mind is, in essence, their mortal one, so there is some variance in the sexual proclivities of ghosts. If a ghost is of a person who was particularly perverted in life, they may make use of their ghostly powers to watch living women as they bathe, grope and squeeze people when they’re vulnerable, or even possess a living person to experience sex in a living body again. This level of sexual obsession is generally a rare sight unless a ghost believes the route to her salvation is sexual in nature, perhaps wishing to engage in a set number of sexual conquests or have sex with a lover one last time.

From the mortal perspective, most living woman are somewhat iffy about the prospect of having sex with a ghost, though not to the level of reticence most would feel on being offered the chance to fuck more corporeal undead, such as a zombie. Generally, a woman would be willing to have sex with the ghost of a deceased lover, if doing so helped them move on, but in most other situations would avoid having sex for fear of being brought in range of a ghost’s withering touch and horrific visage.

Men to Ghosts

Being the raw, exposed expressions of mortal souls, ghosts generally have the same opinion on men as they did in life, if exaggerated somewhat by the stress of being barred from their afterlife. The ghost of a woman who distrusted men in life may contort her situation to blame all men as a whole for her condition in death, making her hostile to them unilaterally. Most ghosts aren’t biassed in this way unless such biases are common in their living race, instead being neutral and distant to men thanks to their general sexual disinterest.

A few ghosts, however, are far from disinterested in fucking males. Normally, a ghost interested in fucking a living man is so interested because her unfinished business is bound up tightly in doing so. With how rare men are and how big a decision it is to fuck one in many cases, a woman is unlikely to experience many chances to have sex with a man in her lifetime, and, when she does, outside factors and personal indecision may lead her to miss her chance. If the regret from these missed opportunities is enough to bind their soul to the world of the living, then all pretences to avoid fucking a man shrink away into nothing in the mind of the resultant ghost, who will likely go out of her way to draw mortal men in to screw her regrets away.

For most men, fucking a woman’s ghost is pretty much on par with fucking her when she was alive, at least from a moral perspective; perhaps being slightly more moral when doing so helps resolve her unfinished business. As such, most men are happy to have sex with a ghost in need, giving her the fuck of a lifetime and sending her on her way. Things get more complicated and dangerous, however, when the ghost wants something more, such as to experience pregnancy before she passes on.

As an undead being, the uterus of a ghost is completely inactive, with no life force for a man’s sperm to merge and create new life with. Still, with the incredible virility of a man, a small portion of his sperm’s life force may merge with the power of the ghost’s undeath to create something akin to pregnancy. Though it is more than a mortal woman could hope to achieve, it is still an incredibly unlikely phenomenon to occur.

Knowing these facts instinctually, a ghost with a desire to breed tries desperately to fuck any man she can get as much as possible, trying to beat the odds through sheer dogged persistence. Until she confirms that she is pregnant, such a ghost will go to great lengths to stay with the man, preventing him from leaving if she can’t follow, or else ensuring that he will continue to return to her. A man in such a predicament must try to escape or find a way to take regular breaks from the ghost’s vicinity, lest her ambient effects slowly destroy him.

If a ghost does miraculously get pregnant, her pregnancy outwardly looks similar to a living member of her race’s, gestating for a comparable amount of time. When a ghost comes due, however, her offspring do not linger for long. Resembling a ghostly infant of congruent heritage to its parents, a ghost’s baby has no unfinished business and therefore disappears from the world of the living within minutes of its birth, its mother typically going with it if she was right about needing it to pass on.

The ultimate fate of these infant ghosts is a matter of debate for many theologians, planar scholars, and philosophers alike. Some posit that being inherently sinless means these spirits automatically ascend straight to one of the Upper Planes to live a pleasant afterlife. Others say that the infant soul lacks the substance and stability of experience to go to any afterlife and thus rejoins the queue of unborn souls waiting to have a chance at life. Like most matters of the afterlife, it is hard for mortals to conclusively prove any theory, leaving us to guess and hope for their wellbeing.

Men, like women, have mortal souls that will one day depart on their death, hopefully to attend the Outer Plane most aligned to their morality. Still, men are just as capable of doubt and regret as any mortal, so every once in a while, a man’s soul is unfortunate enough to linger on as a ghost. Surprisingly, male ghosts are not particularly sexual creatures; partly this is likely due to the fact that male ghosts are as utterly incapable of impregnation as most other undead. Also, however, men tend to live fairly unabashed lives when it comes to sex, so whatever unfinished business their ghosts may have is unlikely to be sexual.

Chapter 120: Ghoul

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

In gloom-filled graveyards, dark mausoleums, lifeless catacombs, and grim battlefields the dead are not always permitted their sanctified rest. Grave keepers and dungeon delvers alike may come across the grizzly scene of graves exhumed, coffins cracked open, and the bodies within torn apart as if by wild beasts. If unlucky, these mortals may find the undead culprits of this desecration, and they will soon discover that ghouls without corpses on which to feed are more than happy to make new corpses out of anyone who crosses their path.

Devourers for Corpses

For what they are, ghouls can seem unusually alive and animalistic, not shambling as a zombie might, and usually of relatively intact, if cold and pallid, flesh. Still, ghouls are not living creatures, but undead. With no natural functions, a ghoul needs not to breathe, sleep, drink, or even eat, no matter how desperate they seem to be to do the latter. A ghoul who does not have corpses on which to feed does not starve to death and can simply wait motionlessly for centuries on end for something to kill to come along.

Though they cannot starve, ghouls are compulsive in their hunger for flesh, particularly the flesh of intelligent creatures. Most ghouls thus congregate around places where the dead are normally interred or death is otherwise plentiful, coming out by night to dig up fresh graves, pry open caskets, and gorge themselves on what is within. To help locate these prime feeding spots and avoid repercussions from the families of the deceased, ghouls have a modicum of intelligence above the average zombie; a ghoul can formulate simple plans when they aren’t distracted by their carvings, understand local languages, and even speak if pushed. However, a ghoul in pursuit of flesh is rarely a creature of wit, dropping straight into animalistic, insatiable hunger.

When the corpses run dry, ghouls can wait, but if the option is available to them, they will rarely turn down the chance to kill victims for themselves. Though usually preferring the weak and isolated, a pack of hunting ghouls is a threat to most they may stalk. Despite their humanoid build, ghouls tend to strike like wild beasts, with teeth like a jackal’s and claws like a vulture’s talons, even without their supernatural effects. To be touched by a ghoul’s clawed fingers is to be exposed to the dark magic with which they are infested. To the living, this foulness threatens to overwhelm the senses, leaving a victim paralysed and vulnerable to a deadly bite for an extended period. A ghoulish horde is a horrifying sight. When in the pursuit of humanoid flesh, little can dissuade them. A ghoul in the throes of its hunger is afraid of little, save the works of the divine and, to a lesser extent, the light of day.

Spawn of Doresain

The first ghoul, the progenitor of the whole undead breed, was known as Doresain. Once a mortal elf of noble standing, she was known both for her pragmatism and her ability to sway others into temporary alliances with grand feasts and revels. However, fortune did not bless the elven lady for long, and eventually, Doresain found herself robbed of all she had worked for, starving with only her most loyal retainers as enemies pounded on the door. With options running out, Doresain did the only thing she knew how to do: she held a feast in hopes of gaining an alliance. With no food available, the elf slew her remaining mortal companions and began to gorge on their flesh, inviting any being that may save her to partake also.

Through this singular act of mass murder, savagery, and defiance of the natural order, Doresain drew one guest to her blood banquet, Orcus, the Demonic Lady of Undeath. Intrigued less by the feast and more by how her host greedily tore into what had once been her friends, Orcus agreed to rescue Doresain, instilling her with the deathly power of the first ghoul and allowing her to rule in the Abyss as Orcus’ vassal.

For centuries, Doresain ruled, seeding her power into corpses across the planes so that they might rise as ghouls. Yet Doresain was not fully a demon in spirit. Her actions, while foul, had been of desperation rather than depravity. It was thus why Orcus refused to aid her protectorate when the demon lord Yeenoghu attacked her. Again cornered and desperate, with nobody to aid her, Doresain made another desperate call, this time to the elven pantheon. Surprisingly, despite everything she had done, the goddesses of the elves heard the Queen of Ghouls and interceded. It is thought to be this singular act of mercy that makes those of elven blood immune to a ghoul’s paralytic touch.

What happened to Doresain after her rescue and where she now resides is a mystery, but it is clear that her days of ruling and creating the ghouls are over. Most ghouls created today are the work of powerful necromancers looking for more powerful, competent servants. Other ghouls seem to be the work of Orcus, Doresain’s former mistress, who invests corpses with the power to become ghouls in order to spread death and disorder. Some say that Orcus’ eye is drawn most of all to the corpses of mortals who consumed the flesh of their own kind, as Doresain did, but this is not confirmed.

Sometimes, Orcus or mortal necromances of particular power will invest a ghoul with an especially large dose of necromantic energy, making a ghast. Though similar in form to a ghoul, ghasts are stronger, tougher, and more intelligent than their more common equivalents, radiating both an aura of deathly power that helps to resist clerical magic and an indescribable stench. Thanks to the difficulty of their creation and the risks involved should they go rouge, ghasts are usually created to help command ghouls through more complicated plans, be they the schemes of a mortal spellcaster or the great and terrible designs of the Lady of Undeath herself.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ghouls

Like most undead creatures, a ghoul is not capable of reproduction, their wombs being as functionless an organ as the stomach they continue to shovel flesh into. Unlike many intelligent undead creatures, most ghouls don’t have dampened lust but no sexual feelings at all. The reason for this is simple: while many intelligent undead borrow their intelligence from the memories or soul of whoever their body belonged to in life, thus inheriting a few sexual traits from the once-living being, ghoul intelligence is completely self-manufactured, a system built purely to aid in the location and consumption of corpses. Ghasts, being more intelligent and creative than other ghouls, may feign sexual interest if it stands to gain them more food, but it is all an act.

While ghouls almost unilaterally lack any sexual interest in anyone, the reverse is unfortunately not always the case. Compared to other undead, ghouls tend to keep themselves in relatively good condition. While a ghoul lacks a pulse, bodily functions, or any way to recover from injuries, they do not rot away as zombies do or shrivel up quite as dramatically as a mummy might, normally just losing body fat and firming up significantly around the breasts and buttocks. Ghouls also have rudimentary intelligence and the ability to talk. This leads to the unfortunate and unpleasant result that a necromancer, death priest, or other disturbed individual may delude themselves into thinking a ghoul under their control is their lover.

As likely needs not to be said, most people who are willing to fuck or pursue romantic relations with a ghoul are almost certainly insane, firmly outside the bounds of morality, and utterly unwilling to face the truth of what they have done. Even among those that regularly practice the art of necromancy and raise the dead as servants, those that go on to fuck their creations often inspire revulsion and are shunned.

Even if they do cross that line, it is rare for a necromancer to simply fuck ghouls at random; instead, there will normally be one undead partner that they obsess over, typically risen from the corpse of a living person they loved or desired in life. Often, however, the bond between a necromancer and their ghoulish lover is not one of love, the disturbed mortal knowing deep down that the ghoul is incapable of it, but control. So long as a spellcaster continues to cast their spell over a ghoul, that ghoul can never deny their orders, sexual or otherwise. As such, a mad necromancer refused by the object of their desires in life may kill them and raise them as a perfectly obedient lover in death.

Men to Ghouls

As far as a ghoul is concerned, a man is merely another living thing that can be turned into a corpse for them to feast upon. As such, it is uncommon for a ghoul to alter her tactics that much when faced with a man. A ghast, on the other hand, is smarter. Though she is no more interested in sex than a regular ghoul, she may use the common male interest in sex to try and lure a man into vulnerable or tactically unwise positions, using shadows and other obscurants to pass herself off as a living woman.

Despite rumours to the contrary, most men of any upstanding qualities tend to find sex with ghouls to be an undesirable experience, not only due to a host of physical features like unpleasant smell, pulselessness, and hostility, but also because of the distinct lifelessness of a ghoul, making the fact that nothing good can be spawned from fucking a ghoul almost palpable to most men, turning all but the most manipulative, self-centred of villains from the act.

Though nothing good can come from fucking a ghoul, this does not mean that a man cannot impregnate a ghoul. Like most undead, ghouls are not easily knocked up, but when they are, they tend to show little reaction as their womb swells inside them. After roughly two years, the ghoul silently births a single gaunt baby. Despite its infantile appearance, the offspring of a ghoul are undead from birth, a ghoul in mind and spirit. Though it never grows past its size at birth, an infant ghoul has the same fangs and paralytic claws as a regular one, able to scamper agilely at the living in order to mercilessly rip them apart.

Like any other mortal, a man’s corpse can potentially be risen as a ghoul in the hands of one talented in necromancy. The demon lord Orcus rarely raises men as ghouls, but mortals with the capability and lack of morals to do so may raise a man as a ghoul under their command so as to preserve his cock for their own personal use, either to satisfy their own lust or to inflict on others as punishment or reward, as the case may be. Like most undead, male ghouls cannot impregnate anyone. Seeking to avoid the desecration of their remains, most men are buried in secret or heavily guarded locations when they die.

Chapter 121: Giants

With footsteps that shake the earth, a voice that booms like thunder, and a head able to look comfortably into or even over the upper floors of most buildings, giants dominate the scene wherever they show up. In form, giants are instantly recognisable as humanoid-looking beings that tower above other creatures, reaching heights of anywhere from sixteen to over twenty-six feet tall, depending on the type. Beyond this major feature, the different kinds of giants are diverse in appearance, lifestyle, and outlook.

Despite their differences, true giants are united by their divine heritage, each giant being the direct decedent of their primary goddess, Annam All-Patter, and Othea, a primordial who took the form of a living mountain. Also shared by the true giants is the pride that this heritage brings, with even the most benevolent giants believing that, one day, their kind will rule the world.

As mentioned, the lineage of giants is split into several types. These types will be discussed in later chapters, but this section seeks to cover giants as a whole.

Empire Lost

Long ago, when humans huddled in caves, dwarves were just starting to emerge from the mountains, and elves had yet to grace the Material Plane with their presence, the goddess Annam sought to make a race that would bring the untamed world to heel under them and bring her glory in their works. They would be large, to tower over their domain, strong, to smite those that challenged their rule, and diverse in talents, so that nothing could escape their exploration. In a world of primordial lust, as the goddess Nymphona had crafted, Annam was determined that her people would have the biggest tits and the most enviable of vitality, inherited directly from herself. As such, Annam was not satisfied by merely crafting her children; she sought to be their patter in the most literal way she could.

For this endeavour, Annam found a powerful being, the primordial mountain Othea. She was as strong and towering as she was beautiful, so Annam made her her bride. As a wife, Othea was not the most faithful, birthing several inferior races of giant kin, such as ogres and trolls, by taking other partners. Still, despite the infidelity, Othea did provide Annam with what she desired: a series of children who would become the progenitors of the giant race. Using magic so great that it is virtually inaccessible to most goddesses around today, Annam ensured Othea’s litter contained not one, not two, but several male offspring, one for each lineage of true giants, to ensure the swift propagation of their kind.

For a while, Annam and Othea’s children did as their All-Patter had hoped; booming in number, the giants claimed much of the world, forging an empire that spread over much of the north, named after its capital, Titan-Dass. With each giant being a powerhouse playing to their diverse strengths and working together in harmony with their sisters in the name of their kings, no primitive humanoid could do anything but submit to their titanic overlords. Eventually, however, the giants found a worthy foe. A single dragon, in both physical and elemental power, can hold her own or even overpower most giants. Even worse, dragons were not the isolationists they are today in the days of the Titan-Dass Empire, forming a grand confederacy headed by legendary greatwyrms of near-Godly status. With dragons and giants alike hungering for power, it was all but inevitable that war would break out.

In the great war, carnage and bloodshed were omnipresent. All that breathed were soldiers on one side or the other. In the inescapable violence, no victor was found, the unity of giants and dragons was all but shattered, the dragons were reduced to the solitary monsters they are today, and the giants were left isolated from each other in small clans. Their kings dead with their mother and their capital lost, buried in ice somewhere to the far north, the giants all but forgot the glory of the empire they had once ruled. Disgusted by her children’s failure and the loss of her wife, Annam no longer has much to do with the mortal giants, having turned her back upon the Material Plane until the day Titan-Dass is restored. Most giants strive for this day, but with their numbers severely reduced, communication between the giant breeds shot, and a myriad of more immediate concerns to distract them, the progress is slow and disorganised.In the great war, carnage and bloodshed were omnipresent. All that breathed were soldiers on one side or the other. In the inescapable violence, no victor was found, the unity of giants and dragons was all but shattered, the dragons were reduced to the solitary monsters they are today, and the giants were left isolated from each other in small clans. Their kings dead with their mother and their capital lost, buried in ice somewhere to the far north, the giants all but forgot the glory of the empire they had once ruled. Disgusted by her children’s failure and the loss of her wife, Annam no longer has much to do with the mortal giants, having turned her back upon the Material Plane until the day Titan-Dass is restored. Most giants strive for this day, but with their numbers severely reduced, communication between the giant breeds shot, and a myriad of more immediate concerns to distract them, the progress is slow and disorganised.

By the Ordning

In order to ensure her children knew their place in the grand cooperation that kept their empire powerful and continued to pursue their individual talents, Annam forged a social system crossed with religion known as the Ordning, a measure by which each giant would know how close they were to their divine patter in respect and esteem. Even today, with their empire gone and Annam ignoring their prayers, the giants hold true to the Ordning and shape their lives according to their rank within it and the route by which they may improve their own standing and that of their family.

Firstly, superseding all other functions of rank, a giant’s position in the overall Ordning is determined by their type. At the top of the Ordning, storm giants are the highest-ranked giants that still live on the Material Plane. Thanks to the supersession of type ranking over individual ranking, even the lowliest giant of a superior type is considered greater than lesser breeds. The lesser stone giant tasked with guarding the entrance of a cave, for example, would still be well within their rights to make demands of a great hill giant chieftain. Refusing such an order isn’t exactly a crime, however, though it is considered rude on the lesser giant’s part. Below them are the cloud giants, followed by fire, frost, stone, and finally the hill giants. Ettins and giant kin are considered lesser than all true giants, but even they have some measure of social importance when compared to other living things who, at least as far as the Ordning is concerned, are totally unimportant, be they monster, beast, or person.

Even within a single giant breed, there is no such thing as true equality. Every giant knows who is its immediate superior and inferior to them. A meeting between two giants of the same kind often involves an exchange of ranking information so that it becomes known which giant should show deference, if not loyalty, to the other. To advance in rank, a giant must show behaviours and skills that their kind finds valuable. What exactly is of value to a giant’s culture depends on the type of giant in question and tends to shape the overall culture to a large extent. Shifts in ranking often involve challenging superior giants in order to claim their rank upon achieving victory. With such an inflexible, clear path to social ascension, the greatest of giants tend to be those that are most staunchly dedicated to the ideals and mannerisms by which their race is known, with dissenters and misfits often being relegated to social obscurity or even becoming outcasts.

Thanks to the unilateral focus giant culture puts on the Ordning, giants have a fairly unique view of life, the world, and ethics. While most giants can comprehend morality as the small folk see it, concepts like good and evil are secondary in the eyes of a giant to their Ordning rank. To account for their behaviours, giants have terms in their own language that do not easily translate into Common, most notably the words maat and maug. For an action, being, or thing to be maat, it must be in accordance with or beneficial to the Ordning and a giant’s place within it. As maat’s opposite, maug refers to those actions, beings, and things that go against the Ordning and harm a giant’s standing. Many giants use maat and maug synonymously with good and bad, but the comparison is not perfect. A usually good and noble storm giant may find the pillaging and gluttony of a nearby hill giant tribe distasteful, for example, but she would not call them maug. If, however, those same hill giants decided to turn their backs on the giant pantheon to worship demon lords or even just other goddesses, that would be maug, and a serious sin against the Ordning at that.

Sex and Sexuality Among Giants

As a price for their incredible size and power, giants grow and breed slowly. Most giants have long lifespans, usually measured in centuries, but also have long childhoods, roughly around fifty years. Unlike other long-lived races, such as elves, who reach physical maturity quite swiftly but take a few decades for their mentality to catch up, giant children grow far more gradually, needing much more help and protection while they grow up. As a result, most giants have complex cultures around reproduction to ensure that the resulting offspring have the care they need. The exact rites a giant engages with depend on their type, but generally, a pair of giants will engage in a wedding or similar ceremony before attempting to breed so as to ensure that there is another giant around to help raise the children.

Some giants, particularly those of higher ranks within their kind’s Ordning, may take multiple sexual partners of lower ranks, but this is usually an act of personal sexual pleasure rather than breeding. When it comes to reproduction, female giants tend to pick mates close to them in social esteem, a result resulting from lower-ranking giants wanting higher-ranking mates to provide offspring of their admirable nature, while higher-ranking giants are unwilling to intentionally merge their lineage with giants too far below them, lest their children be born inferior.

When a giant does get pregnant, the act is often celebrated, for it can be a relatively rare thing. Despite a lifespan of centuries, most giant couples only have one to three offspring in their lifetime, though lower-ranking kinds of giants may have a few more to counter the higher likelihood of an early death from violence. Thanks to this scarcity of children, giants often go to great lengths to mould their offspring into strong, powerful adults, equipped as best as their parents equip them to excel in their kind’s valued skills. Even among evil giants, the bond between mother and child is almost impossible to break, and any threat to their children is enough to turn the most mild-mannered giant into an engine of unhinged destruction.

Despite many believing the contrary, female giants of different kinds can reproduce together. However, when two different kinds of giants get pregnant, regardless of which gets pregnant, the resultant child will always be the kind of giant between the parents ranked lowest in the Ordning. Since virtually no giant wants to invest energy in children that the Ordning considers irretrievably beneath them, higher-ranking giants are generally disgusted at the thought of fucking their inferiors, and lower-ranking giants have almost no chance at seducing them.

This state of being is normally simplified by giants simply declaring sex between different giant breeds to be maug for whichever giant doing the deed is higher ranked, doubly so if the act results in a pregnancy. Other sexual acts that are typically labelled maug include the rape of a fellow giant, for giants are meant to respect one another as people regardless of differences, and sex of any kind with giant-kin and non-giants, sentient or otherwise. Though most female creatures that aren’t giants, including most humanoids, cannot impregnate female giants, nor vice versa, the fact remains that, from the view of the Ordning, the small folk are as beasts onto giants, and any giant that lays with them denigrates herself and the pride of giants. Some giants are more flexible with what’s considered a sin against the Ordning and may use non-giant creatures to sexually pleasure themselves, so long as they aren’t directly having sex.

Men to Giants

Despite, or perhaps because, the first several giants to be born of Othea were all male, masculinity is a rare thing to find among the giants alive today. From rumours and half-whispered tales, one can estimate the number of living male true giants alive in the world of Nymphona to be less than five. Whenever a male giant is born, it is a distinct honour for their clan, their kind, and, to a lesser extent, the giants as a whole. As a result, male giants are typically cherished by their female counterparts, guided to greatness by their clan, and both protected and hidden from those that might try to slay them for their sex.

That being said, a male giant does not automatically soar to the top of the Ordning. Just like any giant, a male giant must excel in talents his kind respects in order to ascend, though the overwhelming support he often receives from his kind often helps him reach the upper echelons. No matter how great a male giant is, however, he cannot escape the bracket of the Ordning his kind is afforded. Therefore, even the greatest male frost giant jarl is technically expected to show respect to a female cloud giant courtier, for example.

Male giants do have some leeway compared to female giants, however, particularly when it comes to sex. When a male giant impregnates a female giant, the offspring are of the mother's kind, regardless of the father's lineage. Considered a blessing from Annam herself, this nature of male giants doesn’t just mean that fucking other kinds of giants isn’t a maug act; it is in fact maat, both for the male to impregnate a fellow giant of any kind and for the female child to have his baby. As such, it is not uncommon for female giants to travel far into unfamiliar steadings in the hopes of being impregnated to improve their standing.

While male giants do not get a free pass from the Ordning to rape those female giants who are not interested in sex with him, they are freed from the taboo against fucking non-giant creatures, consensually or otherwise. The children of male giants born of non-giants tend to be taller and stronger than average for their race but otherwise host few physical traits reminiscent of their father. Though it is not maug for a male giant to fuck any animal, monster, or humanoid he so desires, it is not maat either, and thus adds no improvement to his standing as helping to boost the giant population would. As such, most male giants see impregnating other giants as their enjoyable but vitally important work, while fucking anything else is merely a form of entertainment.

As a result of their rarity, most female giants will not have the chance to meet a male with whom they share Annam’s lineage; they are more likely to meet a male of the small folk, as they call most humanoids. Unfortunately, all small folk, male or not, are considered inherently maug until rigorously proven otherwise. As such, the Ordning clearly states that fucking any man who is not a giant is a maug and shameful act, especially if it results in children. Like male giants, most other sorts of men who successfully impregnate giants cause the mothers to birth members of their own kind.

Still, most giants assume that these “small-bred” giants must be in some way inferior to the “true-bred," inheriting the comparative weakness of the small folk. As a result, most giants try to hide their children’s origin if it is from a humanoid male. As far as can be divined, however, “small-bred” giants are not physically weaker than any other giant of their kind. However, many “small-bred” giants find themselves less attuned to their mother culture and may behave unusually. Sometimes this can lead to a rejection of the Ordning, making the giant an outcast. Other times, the giant may be able to innovate new ways of achieving their kind’s goals and thus excel. Since being higher up in the Ordning means that a giant has more to lose by letting a man impregnate her, higher-ranked giants tend to be harder for men to sexually persuade than lower-ranked ones. On a broader scale, breeds of giants with higher positions in the Ordning tend to be more misandrist on average.

Chapter 122: Cloud Giant (Art)

Living in grand castles, high above the petty domains of small folk, cloud giants live lives of royal plenty. Second in the mortal Ordning only to the reclusive storm giants, cloud giants consider themselves the active rulers of the bulk of giantkind. Averaging almost twenty-five feet tall with pale skin, white or blue hair, and stately figure, a cloud giant calls for tribute of exquisite treasures made by stone and fire giant artisans from materials pillaged by hill and frost giants. All the while, the cloud giants relax in their ostentatious abodes, competing with each other to see who can be the most extravagant.

Ordning of Luxury

For cloud giants, status is tied completely and directly to wealth. The measure of a cloud giant’s coffers in large part translates directly to their position in the Ordning. Cloud giants generally receive their wealth from tribute, both from lesser giants and from small folk who live under them. Not all cloud giants are tyrants, however; while many get what they desire by threatening devastation on any humanoid settlement that doesn’t cough up the loot, others earn their tribute through deeds that, from a cloud giant’s perspective, are utterly trivial.

With a mere act of will, a cloud giant can call down rain on parched fields or quell a devastating storm. For fun, a band of cloud giants may hunt down and slay deadly monsters like manticores, chimeras, and young dragons, as humanoid nobles may hunt deer and boar. Within their own castle grounds, many cloud giants are hobbyist gardeners, growing peas the size of apples, apples the size of pumpkins, and pumpkins the size of carriages—crops that, kindlier cloud giants may offer a portion of to tithe paying small folk when their own crops fail. In this and a myriad of other ways, a cloud giant can be just as successful as a benevolent countess as a black-hearted despot.

Still, even the nicest cloud giants are often arrogant and aloof to the plights of individuals they consider beneath them, small folk especially. In order to encourage even a good cloud giant to act for the sake of the small folk, it is normally necessary to show them that there is something in it for them, be it treasure, a potential threat to their wellbeing to quash, or the productivity of what they consider their domain.

However, for the cloud giant’s Ordning, simple monetary wealth is rarely enough. To advance in ranking, a cloud giant must show off their wealth. A cloud giant dresses in the finest outfits they can afford to have made, wearing glittering, gaudy jewellery and other accessories, particularly masks, which a cloud giant will endeavour as best she can to have one of every emotion she may want to show around company.

The height of status symbols among cloud giants is, inarguably, a flying castle. Built brick by brick atop a magically solidified cloud, a family of cloud giants that call a flying castle home can fly their fortress wherever they may wish, settling down above whatever land they so choose to claim. Within their airborne home, never needing to land, a cloud giant's priceless treasures, magical artefacts, exotic pets, and everything else she holds dear are safe from most would-be thieves on the ground below. Meanwhile, the giant herself can descend from and return to her castle with ease thanks to natural cloud giant magics that let them slow their fall or even fly. Unfortunately, most cloud castles on the Material Plane were destroyed during the war between giants and dragons, and the method to create new ones is hard for even cloud giants to find. As such, only the most rich and powerful cloud giant families can live in the remaining flying castles, with the rest of their kind having to settle for palaces built on high mountain slopes.

Silver Serpent Tongue

When cloud giants compete with one another, it is not in a brawl or a grand test of skill; it is through cunning and honeyed words. When two cloud giants of different families speak, it is often hard to tell if they are allies or deadly foes, for through a line of pleasantries and near imperceptible half-truths, cloud giants seek to profit off their rivals or engineer their downfall. As a result of this vicious social quagmire, cloud giants quickly learn the arts of persuasion, flattery, and, most of all, deception.

Most cloud giants lie as easily as they breathe—to each other and to other beings, as the case may be. Even otherwise moral cloud giants know that it is often pertinent to mislead or withhold sensitive information from enemies and unfamiliar strangers, and it is thus vital for them to stay in practice, often passing off small, inconsequential lies in casual conversation to keep their snake tongue sharp. Cloud giants don’t just lie casually or defensively, however, but also in order to actively manipulate those around them, often tuning foes into unwitting pawns to do their bidding.

A common ploy is for one cloud giant to publicly offer a rival an extravagant gift, thus inflating their own splendour by being able to do so while also boosting their rival’s esteem slightly by virtue of being the new owner of the treasure. In truth, however, the present is not worth anything close to its stated value, a fact the rival will swiftly become wise to on close observation. However, if the rival reveals the cloud giant’s deception, they lose the little esteem they gained from the interaction. Therefore, a cloud giant forces their rival to keep up the deception for them, hiding the truth about their new worthless trinket.

Cloud giant deception can grow even more intense when gold is directly on the line. As a quirk of their nature, virtually all cloud giants are inveterate gamblers. When offered a wager that isn’t clearly impossible for them to win, most cloud giants cannot stop themselves from putting pounds of gold or drastic favours on the line. High-stakes bets, where whole estates and the positions in the Ordning that went with them were exchanged, are recalled with the same fervour as other peoples may recall glorious battles, one giant losing it all, only for her or her descendent to win it back in triumph.

Generally, cloud giants bet on events that both parties ostensibly lack control over, such as the number of birds to pass by or the outcome of a nearby battle between humanoids. A cloud giant actively tampering with events to secure their victory is frowned upon, but only if they are caught.

Living lives fraught with lies and subterfuge, most cloud giants become hyper-aware to the threat of being deceived. Most humanoids do not have the practice needed to lie as effectively as cloud giants do to each other, so trying to pass off a falsehood on a cloud giant will normally have her turn it around, using the falsehood in a way that encourages the small folk to do as she desires them to.

Physically hiding from a cloud giant is also a challenge, for cloud giants have keen senses, particularly their sense of smell. A cloud giant is able to sense the location, emotional state, and even familial lineage of any small folk trying to creep past them. Cruel or kind, few cloud giants tolerate the sanctity of their home being violated by uninvited guests or having their precious belongings pilfered by thieves. When an intruder is guilty of either of these crimes, few cloud giants would hesitate to unleash their giant strength and demolish them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Cloud Giants

As in all things, cloud giants seek a mate with the side goal of publicly gloating about their wealth and extravagance. As a result, cloud giant couples generally form in one of two ways, both of which occur with similar prevalence, whether the giants involved tend towards good or evil, though most cloud giants end up taking partners of similar moral countenance to avoid having to butt heads on every little decision.

When two cloud giants of similar Ordning rank wed, it is often done so as to consolidate their achievements. By getting married and living in the same castle, a pair of cloud giants can reasonably claim at least partial ownership of each other's wealth and invest in their mutual splendour together. Alternatively, one cloud giant may marry another as their trophy wife. Typically, this sort of relationship involves a cloud giant of a relatively high Ordning rank marrying a lower-ranked cloud giant who nonetheless possesses great beauty, charm, intelligence, or some other trait that makes them a clearly enviable bride. The superior giant thus gains acclaim for having the riches to win her over, while the inferior giant stands to gain in the form of lavish gifts and luxury treatment at her spouse’s expense.

Both of these methods of marriage can make cloud giants seem cold and unromantic, but this is far from the truth. Cloud giants, good or evil, are passionate and emotional creatures who experience no shortage of romantic and sexual attraction to their significant others. It is just that most cloud giants also find fiscal potential an attractive trait in their would-be mates, just as small folk may be drawn to a sweet voice or a sensuous figure.

When two cloud giants decide to marry, they milk the once-in-a lifetime event for all the visible decadence they can afford. A cloud giant wedding is a grand, dragged-out affair with friends, family, and even hated rivals invited so that all can see that no expense is spared, at least as far as the guests can tell. Even when the wedding is past, cloud giants still use their spouse as an excuse to flaunt their wealth, by giving them wearable gifts and taking them on grand holidays, for example. A pair of cloud giants may even commodify their sexual lives. Though few cloud giants actively encourage direct voyeurism, they may leave custom-made bejewelled or gilded sex toys out for overly curious guests to “accidentally” find, thus passing on rumours of the couple’s expensive tastes around by word of mouth.

Of course, the primary reason cloud giants have sex is not to show off their wealth but to experience physical pleasure and produce offspring. For a cloud giant, even one child is a long and costly investment, with fertility being relatively low, pregnancies lasting roughly a year and a half, and children taking over half a century to reach adulthood. Most cloud giant couples also go on to have only a few children in their lifetimes, if they choose to have children at all. As a result, cloud giant children are both rare and costly, meaning that, as with a trophy wife, a cloud giant can use their children as a symbol of her own wealth and extravagance.

As well as granting most every one of their child’s requests, so long as the result is visible to outsiders, most cloud giants go to great lengths to educate their children too, particularly in showy skills such as musical instruments and painting. Many cloud giant parents will seek out artistically gifted small folk, hiring or kidnapping them to act as tutors to their children. As well as these clearly pricy investments, cloud giant parents also personally teach their children the skills they’ll need to excel in life: how to manage underlings, how to win the hearts and minds of others, and how to lie to someone right to their face. Beyond all this posturing, however, most cloud giants love their children dearly, and even most of the more selfish ones would sooner die than see anything bad happen to them.

Men to Cloud Giants

As the second-highest mortal giants in the Ordning, cloud giants have a lot to lose should they give in to lust and fuck a humanoid man. Since so much of the esteem a cloud giant earns is through word of mouth, even rumours of a dalliance with non-giant cock can be enough to utterly ruin a cloud giant without deniability. Since a cloud giant’s rivals will almost certainly jump on even the most ephemeral evidence to slander them, most cloud giants are loathe to let a man anywhere near them or their family, let alone wilfully interact with them. More callous cloud giants may kill men and male creatures on sight to uphold their reputed disinterest in them. Cloud giants with a greater respect for innocent lives are usually content to leave men who keep their distance be and will give ample warning for men to stay away, normally in the form of rocks thrown near them.

Still, most cloud giants have an element of pragmatism within them and know that men have certain useful qualities. Meanspirited cloud giants may send men to the homes of their rivals with promises of riches or false assurances that the rival is one who is far more interested in sex, thus humiliating the rival when the man rocks up openly, declaring that she is a rumoured whore for the likes of him. A man can also be highly influential on the female small folk he interacts with, inspiring them with awe or fear, so a cloud giant with a man in her confidence can indirectly control the masses in her domain. Additionally, like female small folk who take to a life of adventure, the small size and adventurous nature of men also make them ideal to hire for missions that are too confined or too sensitive for a cloud giant to employ her giant underlings for.

However, a cloud giant who employs a man must be cautious, lest she arouse suspicion in her peers. A cloud giant who liaises with a man often does it through third parties or else has the man smuggled into private chambers where his presence may be hidden. Smuggling a man is easier said than done; however, the sensitive noses of cloud giants can differentiate between sexes with ease. As such, a man being hidden by a cloud giant may experience unpleasantries such as being stuffed into a sack of potpourri or half drowned in perfumed oils.

As well as the risk of getting caught, cloud giants also experience a secondary danger from meddling with men: the risk of accidentally falling for them. While most cloud giants try to be proper and put emphasis on their standing, most are ultimately driven by their emotions. As such, a man who proves useful to a cloud giant may gradually gain her fondness, eventually forcing her to battle between giant sensibilities and her own desire to fuck him.

When it comes to the rare male giants, cloud giants are freed from the threat of sinning against the Ordning. However, cloud giants have a variety of taboos regarding giant males unique to their own kind, distinct from the rules set out by Annam All-Patter. In the eyes of cloud giants, seeing themselves as the de facto rulers of all mortal giants, male giants of breeds lower than them in the Ordning are simply too common-blooded to be worthy of having a self-respecting cloud giant fuck them and have their children.

As such, only particularly low-ranked cloud giants desperate to ascend the ranks of the Ordning would consider approaching a male of a lesser giant to fuck. While such a cloud giant would technically gain a sizable measure of status in the cloud giant Ordning, lower-ranked cloud giants would almost certainly whisper behind her back while those of higher ranks would subtly mock her desperation to her face. Even male storm giants, higher in rank than any cloud giant, while acceptable to fuck, are less desirable to most cloud giants than a male of their own kind.

Male cloud giants take their kind's normal charismatic teachings and use them to augment their natural male draw. So charming and alluring are male cloud giants that much of their wealth comes from nearby peoples of all kinds, giant, humanoid, or other, offering fantabulous gifts in exchange for the right to fuck him. A male cloud giant dresses handsomely and converts his home into an eye-wateringly sumptuous pleasure palace where he shows off his sexual proficiency and his wealth by not only housing an ever-rotating roster of female guests waiting for his dick but also an array of artworks that show off his sexual majesty, along with a harem of loving servants and exotic pets for him to breed in between his visitors. As well as the general increase in size and strength common to all with giant fathers, non-giant offspring fathered by cloud giants also tend to have a fairer completion, a keener sense of smell, and sometimes an affinity for aerial magics.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art in this chapter. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 123: Fire Giant

Most comfortable in lands of intense volcanic heat but stanchly determined enough to settle anywhere with ore and fuel to feed into their great foundries, the red-haired, charcoal-black-skinned fire giants were once the industrial and military backbone of the giant’s empire, Titan Dass. Though the empire has long since fallen and both communications and supply lines for the giants are a far cry from what they once were, the fire giants still stand by their traditions of old, with a grim stalwartness matched perhaps only by the retiring stone giants.

Ordning of Industry

In order to earn the respect of their kin and rise in ranks within the Ordning, a fire giant must display an incredible aptitude and dedication to craftsmanship, particularly metalwork and engineering. Some say that if one took a dwarf and, from birth until death, taught her the ways of weapon or armour smithing in the styles of the great masters of the craft from centuries past, a fire giant would improve upon her magnum opus in mere minutes. While many people (particularly dwarves) dispute this claim as hyperbole, it is undeniable that with steel, or adamantine when they can get it, and one of their great forges, the fire giants produce some of the best works known to mortal ken.

If there is one thing that one could claim the works of fire giants lack, it may be charm. For the fire giants, function far outweighs form. The weapons and armour of fire giants are typically heavy, brutalist constructions, forged of solid steel and blackened by the choking heat and smoke of the forge, disturbances that fire giants care not a jot for; in fact, fire giants find anything cooler than a temperate summer's day to be unpleasantly chilly.

The fortifications within which the fire giants live and craft, while tough enough to repel even a dragon’s fury, are generally bleak edifices; the lands for miles around are made barren by unrestrained deforestation and polluted by a ceaseless discharge of ash that churns from the fortress’ high chimney shafts. If one were to point out the ugliness that spawns forth from her kind’s ceaseless industry to a fire giant, it is unlikely she would care, and she would likely go on to insist that there was greater and more significant beauty to be found in the practical excellence of her crafts than in anything that happened to be ruined in its creation.

As much as the fire giants would like it to be the case, the life of a craftswoman cannot persist self-sufficiently. In the glory days of the giants, the fire giant’s ore was mined by the stone giants, their food was gathered by the hill giants, the cloud and storm giants organised the supply lines from above, and the frost giants defended the necessary territorial claims. Today, however, such organisation has fallen asunder, and few fire giants can trust giants outside their kind or even their individual clans to reliably support them.

To fill in the gaps in their production lines, fire giants turn to a simple, if despotic, solution. Through their own assaults and occasional trade with the more aggressive frost giants, fire giants attain indentured workers in the form of humanoid captives, setting them to work mining, farming, and performing whatever other tasks the fire giants consider beneath them. On the whole, fire giants are not sadistic slave owners; after all, mistreatment of vital tools is impractical and wasteful. Still, a humanoid is not a giant and is thus beneath the estimation of a fire giant’s respect. Slaves work in conditions with the bare minimum of resources and safety considerations to make them productive, and if a fire giant must be harsh or even cruel to get the most out of her humanoid serfs, she will do so without a hint of remorse.

Since fire giants are so unilaterally focused on the honour of craft to the exclusion of nearly all else, the tasks that fire giants consider too menial for them also cover skills that most people see as highly respectable, such as medicine, administration, and even magic. The fire giants understand that these skills are rarer and thus take greater pains to maintain slaves that possess them, but this is purely practical rather than a show of any respect.

In order to keep their slaves in line, fire giants normally set their lowliest to the task. Too incompetent or ham-fisted to craft at the high standards of their kind, the fire giants tasked with overseeing the slaves languish at the bottommost rung of their kind’s Ordning in a constant state of frustration, just waiting for something to go wrong so that they have an excuse to explode in volcanic fury and hopefully have a reason they can justify to their superiors to smash someone or something to bits. While almost all fire giants have similarly short tempers when pushed, it is these misfit rejects that give the fire giants their reputation as dull, hot-headed brutes.

Burning Hearted Warriors

Though craftsmanship is the be all and end all of a fire giant’s status among her kind, the fire giants were once also known as the premier officers of the Titan Dass empire’s great armies, leading squadrons of hill and frost giants in glorious war against the enemies of all giant kind, namely, the dragons. To this day, the fire giants recall their secondary duties with pride, and military might plays a continuing role in the lives of every fire giant.

Even in times of peace, fire giants run their compounds like an army’s basecamp. At dawn's first light, fire giants amass in their foundry’s yard for training drills, followed by their morning provisions in the communal mess hall, at which time the keep’s duchess receives the night patrol’s reports. In favour of regular clothes, most fire giants prefer their distinct plate armour with formidable great swords on their backs, even in the comfort of their own communal barracks, with only the ruling family of the foundry having their own rooms. Even when fire giants relax and sing, it is mostly the anthems of war that are sung, the instrument of choice being their own marching feet.

For all of their preparation, however, fire giants do not march off to war all that often. This is not out of cowardice, but pure rationality. When a fire giant prosecutes a war, it is done systematically. Fire giants are capable logicians and adaptable fighters in the heat of the fray, often surprising foes who expected to face dim-witted brutes, but they have never been grand strategists, for that was the role of cloud and storm giants in the days of true giant unity. As such, when fire giants go to war, they follow a simple, three-step plan.

Firstly, the duchess of the fire giant clan identifies a target, be it territory, resources, or potential slaves. She will then marshal her best fire giant warriors and kit them out with the finest weapons and armour her clan can produce. Her army, usually more of a squadron due to current numbers, then marches for the target in a full-frontal attack—no tricks, no fancy monoverses—just several tonnes of finely crafted steel and formidably trained giant marching straight into enemy defences.

Fire giants know that this process is of mixed success and that the cost should things go badly is enormous, with all the high-end equipment and supplies fire giants give their troops, not to mention the decades or even centuries it can take to replace a good fire giant soldier. Thanks to the immense gamble every attack is for them, fire giants thus pick their battles carefully, weighing the risks against the rewards. When the weight of this gamble is reduced by the fire giants gaining the advice of a great general or a grand strategist emerging from their own ranks, their eagerness to fight becomes clear as their forces march out in an attempt to carve out new empires in their brazen image.

Great general or not, one target that fire giants will fearlessly seek to fight is any dragon that dares to settle in their territory. While almost all giants bear a grudge against the dragons for their part in destroying the giant’s empire, the hatred burns most brightly in the fire giants. Regardless of the dragon’s age, intentions, or moral alignments, news of its proximity is normally insulting enough to guarantee that the fire giants will send out a band of their most talented warriors, who will not rest until the creature’s head is mounted upon their duchess’ wall. In the minds of the fire giants, the giant’s war against the dragons never ended, and it is thus their duty to build a base of power, stockpile weapons, and prepare for the day when the fire giants march to the great final battle and their scaled foes meet extinction with the most perfect blades to grace the Material Plane.

Sex and Sexuality Among Fire Giants

A notable feature of fire giant anatomy is their notably dwarflike figure; their bodies are squat and wide rather than tall, to the point that they are the one breed of true giant whose height is out of sync with their relative position in the Ordning. The average fire giant is only around eighteen feet tall, similar to a stone giant, despite the fire giant being two steps above them in the Ordning. Suiting their dwarven similarity, fire giants also have disproportionately large breasts and buttocks. Unclad, a fire giant’s tits and ass are big enough to dominate a room, shaking like they’re in an earthquake with the giant’s every step.

Despite these incredible assets, fire giants are not particularly sexual in mindset compared to other giants. Most fire giants find being sexualized in daily life frustrating and consider their incredible assets an annoyance more often than not. As such, a fire giant’s armour typically works not to compliment her figure but to compress her tits and ass until they look much more average-sized. Inexperienced adventurers who happen to see a fire giant doff her armour and let her assets spring out are often briefly stunned by the shock and arousal the sudden reveal creates.

Of course, fire giants are not completely unsexual creatures; they are mortal and must reproduce if they wish to restore the numbers lost in warfare and regain the giant’s former glory. However, fire giants go about sex and romance in a strictly regimented way. When two fire giants, usually of similar Ordning rank, respect and appreciate each other to the point of feeling attraction, they will eventually approach their superiors in search of recognition of their pairing. Their superior then has them take an oath to be true to each other and cooperate in the creation and upbringing of any offspring, and the wedding is complete. Beyond this formality and perhaps a toast to the new couple at evening mess, fire giants marry with remarkably little fanfare unless they are particularly important individuals like the duchess of the compound, one of her direct relations, or one of her key underlings.

Once a pair of fire giants are married, the bond is for life. Mostly, the bond is maintained by greater cooperation and verbal affirmations of continued affection, since physical affection and sex can be impractical. While the clan’s elites will have their own chambers in which to sleep, attend to personal business, and fuck, most fire giants live in communal barracks. While such a life means that most fire giants are comfortable sleeping, changing, and even strutting around in the nude around each other, sex in front of one’s coworkers is normally a step too far.

As a result, couples looking to fuck again go to their superiors and seek permission, this time for a personal excursion, typically to a cave, lonely caldera, or abandoned ruin, where the pair may have sex in relative privacy. These locations are often passed around and well known to the clan as a whole, giving these locations great emotional and even spiritual importance to the fire giants, making them fiercely protective of these sights and willing to destroy any small folk who dare come to pillage or take shelter within them.

When fire giants have sex, there is one particular quirk common to almost the entire race. Some theorise that it is a result of being around slaves all the time; others suggest that it is a way to introduce their skills in craftsmanship to their sexual forays; yet others think it is merely an aspect of their psychology; but a shocking percentage of fire giants are into bondage. So prevalent is this one fetish among the fire giants that it is merely assumed that any sexual encounter will involve at least one giant in chains. Higher-ranking fire giants tend to have complex apparatus built directly into their bedchamber’s design, but most adult fire giants will carry at least a pair of giant-sized manacles with them on most occasions.

While fire giants are willing to have their fun while having sex, they take parenthood very seriously. After a more than year-long pregnancy, newborn fire giants are raised in fortified nurseries, where their parents watch over them, nurse them, and offer them comfort with the heat of the forge and chants of war. As the infant fire giants grow into children, they are permitted to play, often engaging in rather rough games that involve the throwing of stones at one another and the practice of mock battles, reading them for the start of their proper military training as puberty begins.

Men to Fire Giants

Practically minded, most fire giants don’t specifically hate humanoid men; they simply do not respect them, just as they lack respect for any other small folk. As a result, fire giants simply judge a man by how useful he can be to them. For the most part, fire giants see men as impractical servants, understanding them to be notoriously rebellious against enslavement. Also, while the boost in pregnancies can yield a higher population of workers in the long run, a man’s sexual behaviours can severely diminish their workforce’s productivity through pregnancy. On the whole, most fire giants would simply prefer to have men leave them be or perhaps sell them to efreeti, githyanki, and other slavers willing to pay more for a man’s sexual proficiency.

This uncaring stance is challenged, however, when a man threatens a fire giant’s racial pride. While few true giants would willingly defy the Ordning and lay with a man, fire giants are the most openly passionate about their adherence to the ancient giant customs. For instance, frost and cloud giants may use the term “small breeder” interchangeably with "motherfucker," with the only difference being that it implies the insulted party fucks male small folk instead of fucking their own mother; neither term is meant to be taken literally. Such a term among fire giants is taken as a grave accusation, however, likely to result in physical violence if the insulter doesn’t have clear evidence to back up their claim.

As such, a humanoid man who tries to convince a fire giant to lay with him, regardless of his politeness, is not only barking up the wrong tree but also offends her honour as a giant. A man who makes such an attack on a fire giant’s standing would be lucky to be simply punted out of her sight in a burst of rage. More likely, the fury such an insult elicits will result in a life-long vendetta where the enraged giant will use all the resources at her disposal to have the man killed.

As a result of this extremely violent reaction to even basic flirtation, fire giants unsurprisingly have the absolute lowest recorded instances of their kind consensually fucking humanoid men of any true giant. However, a combination of the fire giants’ famously curvaceous figures and a sense of vengeance for the race’s bouts of tyranny has resulted in multiple men dreaming of one day peeling a fire giant’s armour from her absurdly thick body and fucking justice into her. Unsurprisingly, such vengeful desires arise most often from men who have racial histories of enslavement by the fire giants, including orcs, goblinoids, and dwarves.

Sometimes, these rapacious goals are achieved. Thanks to the do-or-die strategies most fire giants employ, an attacking fire giant is a terrifying threat, but one that falls hard when it is defeated. When men happen to be on the site of a fire giant’s defeat, it is easy enough for those so inclined to take advantage and rape her, often using the manacles and other restraints most fire giants carry to help them. Knowing that some men can be so opportunistic, knowing that a man is present at a potential site of battle is sometimes enough to dissuade a fire giant duchess from calling for the attack, since the threat of defilement can shake a fire giant’s resolve more than the danger of death itself.

When a male giant is born near a fire giant stronghold, their reaction to him is far different from how they see men of non-giant birth. Seeing a male giant as a gift from the giant goddesses, sent to swiftly boost their numbers, the fire giants are eager to be impregnated by him, industriously carrying and birthing as many future craftswomen and soldiers from him as they can. The fire giants may even offer to take him in and raise him to be a great warrior in his own right if the male giant’s home clan seems incapable of properly caring for, defending, and efficiently breeding with him.

When a fire giant is born male, there is no need for the female fire giants to parley for access to him. As such, the fire giants are free to mould him as they wish. Usually, a male fire giant is taken as an apprentice of the clan’s duchess from birth, granting him the very best education in combat, smithing, and engineering, practically guaranteeing, along with his relentless breeding of his clan and any other giants permitted to visit him, that he will ascend the ranks of the Ordning and become a grand duke. Growing up to rule his clan, a male fire giant personally ensures its constant productivity, both in forged arms, armour, and his offspring.

A male fire giant breeds not only his fellow giants, creating new craftswomen and soldiers and making allies of foreign visitors, but he also impregnates his slaves, breeding a vast workforce to feed his growing industry. Non-giant offspring of male fire giants, as well as being larger and stronger than average for their kind, are also often more resilient to heat with red hair or dark skin, making them perfect labourers under their fire giant masters. Ultimately, a male fire giant aims to turn his clan into an engine of dominion as a hand-bred giant army of unprecedented size stands ready to march upon the land in mere decades of his birth.

Chapter 124: Frost Giant

As the war horns of great longships blow through the fearsome winter squall or towering figures, over twenty feet in height, stride towards frozen hamlets under the cover of a blizzard, the wise leave their valuable materials and casks of ale outside their settlement’s borders as tribute, lest the frost giants tear their homes apart.

The average frost giant is a tough and muscular warrior, with scars from a thousand battles crisscrossing her ice-blue skin. A frost giant recalls the origin of every one of her scars, recounting the tales of those gained through glorious battle with pride and endeavouring to hide those caused by foolish happenstance or cowardice.

Frost giants live and breathe the essence of their frozen homes, mostly located on vast tundras and in snowcapped mountain ranges. They march out of these holdings come winter in order to raid. Not only are frost giants tolerant of the freezing cold, but they in fact find comfort in it. To a frost giant, anything warmer than a freshly slain elk is like a flame; they eat their meat raw and abhor even temperate climes. While this mostly spares warmer locales the worst of their deprivations, those that eke out a living in the cold frontiers have had to deal with, and more often build their lives around, the frost giants that also call the icy wastes home.

Ordning of Power

For a frost giant, their place in the Ordning is determined by their strength, ability to survive, and skill at using both of these factors in battle. As such, a frost giant’s words and deeds are all built to signify strength. Frost giants prefer to hunt animals like elk and polar bears bare-handed or with a few rocks to keep them from fleeing. The entertainment for a clan of frost giants is often a grand hunt for a monstrous foe, followed by a feast accompanied by wrestling and other physical feats.

Disagreements between frost giants are often settled by contests of physical might that may devolve into a fight, though rarely a lethal one, thanks to the Ordning’s prohibition against war between giants and the general toughness of frost giant warriors. The leader of a frost giant clan, its Jarl, is usually the mightiest warrior and athlete among their number, and the only real non-combat role given respect among the frost giants is the clan’s skald, a poet of sorts who records the deeds of their clan in song. Even still, a skald must usually remain able to fight for themselves to retain their respect.

As well as competing with each other, frost giants also prove their power by throwing themselves against the unforgiving harshness of their frigid world. Alone or with a small band of allies, a frost giant looking to prove herself may march out into the wilderness, supporting herself in the barren polar wastelands and seeking to do battle with powerful arctic monsters, particularly white dragons, with whom the frost giants have a long enmity. While most of these quests end with the beast being slain and brought to the clan’s feasting table, a frost giant may sometimes show a cruel form of mercy and simply bully the creature into subservience, granting the giant a pet and war beast. Common examples of frost giant companions include young remorhazes, ice-breathing winter wolves, and giant snowy owls.

Though it can make them brutish, aggressive, and oftentimes cruel, the unflinching simplicity of what frost giants believe makes for greatness can give them a surprising degree of tolerance in certain situations. For the most part, frost giants largely agree with the arrangement of power laid out by the overall Ordning; after all, higher-ranking giant lineages tend to be stronger than frost giants, lower-ranked ones are often weaker, and most non-giant creatures are even weaker still. However, if a being, giant or not, proves themselves to be mighty by the standards of the frost giants, hunting barehanded like they do or holding their own with a frost giant warrior in single combat, that being is considered worthy of the frost giant’s respect.

A frost giant impressed with a member of the small folk’s martial might may spare their lives, voluntarily call off a raid for them, or even invite them to live alongside her kind in her steading, though a non-giant who resides among frost giants in this way will never be respected enough to lead their forces and will instead be considered a simple warrior of personal aclaim afforded by their strength. Frost giants only appreciate combative power in this way when it is derived wholly from the warrior’s physical might and battle instincts, however. Frost giants know that guile, advanced tactics, and magic are all formidable forces that may defeat them if they aren’t careful, but the frost giants find no honour in the use of them and do not respect their practitioners.

Scavenging Raiders

With a culture so completely dedicated to creating as many mighty and glorious warriors as possible, there are very few dedicated frost giant craftspeople. Some frost giants may carve the bones of whales and large monsters or hack mystic runes into glaciers as a hobby, but most frost giants produce remarkably little in the way of usable goods and consider those beings that spend their lives doing so as beneath them, merely being the producers of the things they are mighty enough to steal.

One skill that is appreciated among frost giants is the ability to creatively repurpose the goods they acquire to suit their needs. Frost giants lack the drive or social connections to benefit from a proper production chain, but even if they were more industrious, their icy nature would make the heat of a forge unbearable to them. Some frost giants maintain a simple trade with their fire giant kin, giving them goods and captives they’ve pillaged in exchange for weapons and armour crafted to fit them. Most frost giants lack these contacts forever and must make do on their own with whatever’s available to them.

By lashing together a few dozen human-sized shields, a frost giant can attain a simple coat of scale mail. A human sword tied to a log may make for a formidable spear, while that same log tied to a battleaxe by a longer rope can make a wickedly bladed flail. Most frost giant clans thus end up with a mix of cobbled-together weaponry and a few relics handed down through the generations.

Unfortunately, frost giants largely consider all other forms of craft and acquisition of resources to be beneath them, besides hunting, thanks to its combative features. Frost giants instead gain what they want by raiding. In the twisted logic that frost giants consider to be morality, they justify their pillaging with the idea that if the small folk lack the strength to protect what is theirs, then they have committed a sin and do not deserve to keep it. Since failing to remain strong is a crime against the frost giants’ Ordning, concepts like protecting the weak (excluding their own children) or engaging in honest trade with those not as powerful as themselves are laughable.

Most of the time, very little actual fighting is involved in a frost giant raid. Only an incredibly well garrisoned humanoid settlement or one protected by mighty champions stands much of a chance of repulsing a frost giant warband, leading to the brave but foolish being instantly crushed, while the rest of the settlement wisely flees while the giants stride in and take whatever they want.

In the aftermath of a frost giant raid, it is rarely banks, jewellers, or the homes of the rich that are most ransacked. Little jewels and fiddly small folk coins tend to frustrate the frost giants more than anything. Instead, the places hit hardest tend to be mines or smithies for their abundance of reusable metal and tools, and places like inns and public houses, which the frost giants greedily gut for food and alcohol they can later binge on.

Contrary to popular belief, frost giants tend not to eat people unless times are particularly hard, preferring instead to hunt wild animals or carry off livestock. Frost giants also don’t often take captives as slaves, unless they plan on conducting trade with fire giants. Most of the time, frost giants prefer to leave the survivors of their raids be so that they may pick up the pieces, rebuild, and restock to be raided again the following winter.

Sex and Sexuality Among Frost Giants

For the frost giants, strength and beauty go hand in hand. A frost giant’s body, in the form of her muscular definition and the scars upon her skin, are a testament to her power and the battles she has survived. Any frost giant of a reasonable age can talk at length about the scars she wears and where she got them; her battle-marked body gives her immense pride. Thanks to their pride in their form and their complete immunity to the cold, frost giants in fact prefer to go naked whenever they can.

While meeting with foes or heading out of the safety of their holdings, most frost giants do clothe themselves, mostly in ramshackle armour; after all, an unarmoured giant is at a serious disadvantage should they be attacked, and to fall due to such unpreparedness would be unbecoming of them. However, frost giants work hard to engineer circumstances where they can go nearly or completely naked among each other so that they can show off their bodies. Jarls receiving visitors often sit upon their thrones wearing nothing but a fur bikini or a set of choice bone jewellery. For relaxation, frost giants may construct frigid communal bathhouses, where a dip is traditionally followed by a naked roll in the snow. Meanwhile, many contests among frost giants, such as wrestling, tug of war, or rock throwing, are traditionally done nude, so that no weapons may be hidden on the athlete’s person.

Thanks to its commonality among them, nudity isn’t necessarily sexual among frost giants. However, it is not uncommon for a particularly muscular or attractively scarred giant to bank on arousing her fellows with her unclad form, the ultimate aim being to either sway public opinion or win a mate.

The exact nature of relationships among frost giants varies depending on the culture of the frost giant clan being observed. Some clans are polyamorous, with the Jarl and her highest-ranking allies and rivals each having a harem of lesser frost giants to breed with. Other clans are more traditional, with giants of similar strength pairing up in marriage. In any case, no frost giant is forced to marry another, since all are warriors and children of Annam All-Patter, worthy of more respect than a mere commodity. A frost giant decides to join a harem or become the wife of another frost giant because she respects them, normally for their great strength.

Thanks to the main feature that frost giants are attracted to, their courtship behaviour can be fairly barbaric from an outsider’s view. A frost giant who desires another in her harem may grapple them, beat them, throw rocks at them, and otherwise try to violently force them into submission. Still, a frost giant is not expected to submit to this bullying in order to make the pain stop, but because they are so impressed by the stronger giant’s power.

In monogamous pairings, frost giants normally want their partner to be closer to them in power. The violence and competition are thus normally more two-way, with the courting pair outwardly looking more like bitter rivals instead of a bully and their victim. Still, all this hostility may sometimes be interspersed with more romantic behaviour, however, like gifts, often made to signal the givers power; a necklace of elk skulls or a bear skin cloak will often be appreciated; a remorhaz egg or winter wolf pup may make up an undecided lover’s mind; and a dragon skull is likely to make the object of a frost giant’s affections drop everything and immediately plead to have her babies.

Once secure in a relationship, frost giants can begin to breed. Just because she is pregnant, a frost giant is not given leave to become vulnerable. Through her year-long pregnancy, a frost giant is expected to hunt, train for combat, and otherwise look after herself just as she did before becoming pregnant. Challenging a pregnant frost giant to a fight is frowned upon in the same way as attacking her in her sleep would be, however; such underhandedness is considered unbecoming of any frost giant. Once the baby is born, the parents have remarkably little input into its care. The mother will nurse her baby for a few years, but most other childcare duties are done by the clan’s elderly, leaving younger frost giants free to continue fighting and working on their own standing, dropping in on their child only every now and then to provide occasional advice and ensure they are growing up to be powerful.

Men to Frost Giants

Like all things in a frost giant’s worldview, men are judged by one point and one point only: strength. When a man is met by a frost giant, the esteem with which she holds him depends wholly on how powerful he is, particularly if his power seems to come mostly from martial prowess. If a man seems like a capable warrior without resorting to magic or other forms of cheating as she sees it, then he will have her respect, and she may take note of his words and desires.

This acceptance of men, so long as they are strong, extends a surprisingly long way in the right conditions. For most giants, being raped by a non-giant man is an insult not only to her autonomy but also to the pride of all giants, with any resultant offspring being assumed to be naturally reduced for their impure heritage. However, the way the average frost giant sees it, a man capable of defeating her in combat and forcibly fucking her without unfair tactics is strong enough to have the right to, and assuming the child of a man of such strength is inherently weak, regardless of their father’s kind, is a ridiculous notion. This does not mean that frost giants look to fuck non-giant men, nor are they in any way likely to “let” a man win so she can fuck him, but frost giants are remarkably civil or even friendly to their rapists. That being said, a frost giant is unlikely to consensually fuck a non-giant man unless he is strong and loyal enough to the frost giants to have been granted a place in their clan and she is a lower-ranking member.

When it comes to male giants, frost giants have a similarly strength-based mindset towards them, not entirely beholden but willing to accept them should they prove worthy. Generally, male giants have an advantage over male humanoids for the fact that frost giants assume they are strong automatically, particularly if they are also frost giants or a kind of giant considered their greater in the Ordning. Still, most female frost giants will need to witness or hear deeds of a male giant’s power before falling over herself to fuck him.

Male frost giants learn quickly that, among their own kind, women are most easily seduced to fuck with a domineering attitude backed up by strength, while most other things can be raped with much the same. As such, most male frost giants are doubly compelled to become mighty warlord jarls, both to impress other giants into having their children and also to capture living fuck toys. When a male frost giant reaches a state of dominance, he normally diversifies his clan’s raiding. As well as gathering resources and supplies, a male frost giant often has exotic monsters and hapless humanoid beauties captured so he may breed them at his leisure. As well as a notable increase in size and strength, the offspring of a frost giant father also tend to have icy-blue eyes and a natural tolerance or even magical control over the cold.

Chapter 125: Hill Giant

When it comes to most kinds of giants, one has to look past their towering size and formidable strength to see the deeper complexities of their lives and outlooks. If you try to do that with a hill giant, you will be left with very little indeed.

At just over fifteen feet tall on average, hill giants are widely considered the smallest and weakest of the true giants, as well as being the lowest ranked in the Ordning. Generally having fair skin, unevenly tanned from careless naps in the sun, hill giants are the closest of the true giants to simply resemble an overgrown human, albeit a human who is often also rather rotund and somewhat homely. Despite all this, a hill giant should never be underestimated. While not the biggest or strongest of the giants, their size and strength is still of giant standard, backed up by the sort of mastheaded lack of forethought necessary to use it heedless to the harm it does others in the pursuit of nothing more complicated than ever more food.

Ordning of Size

If you asked the average hill giant about the Ordning and her place within it, she would more likely than not have no idea what you were talking about—the idea of a grand unifying philosophy of all giant kind being beyond her. Simply not understanding the Ordning, however, does not deny hill giants their place within it. Though they do not recognise it as a philosophical concept, hill giants do have a racial Ordning.

For hill giants, the bigger something is, the greater its importance. As such, hill giants strive to be as big as possible. The metrics for bigness aren’t particularly precise and can be judged at a glance. As well as height, factors such as weight, girth, and bust size all factor into a hill giant’s considerations when comparing her largeness to another being. As a result, a hill giant can improve her sanding by eating enough to put on fat. Hill giant tribes thus tend to rank themselves in order of their fatness, with the tribe's chief being a hill giant so monstrously obese that she may struggle to move unaided and attain food by intimidating others into fetching it for her with her sheer girth.

Hill giants are, however, not usually mentally complex enough to pick up concepts like agriculture or trade. Most of a hill giant’s diet is therefore usually pillaged, mostly from humanoids. A hill giant raid is not an elegant tactical performance. Typically, a hill giant, perhaps accompanied by one or two companions, will stumble across a farmer’s barn, field, or storehouse and then simply barge her way past any defences, sit down, and gorge herself on any crops, livestock, and farmhands she can find. If any resistance is put up, the hill giant generally responds by throwing rocks at the offending disturbances.

The Ordning of the hill giants works well for them. Not only is it simple for a hill giant to recognise the size of another at a glance, making it easy to keep track of rankings, but it also helps them to remain compliant with the Ordning’s greater scope. As it happens, every kind of giant superior to the hill giants, according to the Ordning, also tends to be naturally taller, heavier, and bustier too.

In the simplified understanding of hill giants, creatures bigger than them, such as other kinds of true giants, are to be feared or obeyed. Smaller creatures, like giant kin, are to be made use of and exploited. Even smaller beings, such as most humanoids, are below even the estimation of ogres and trolls and thus can be robbed, slain, or even consumed without moral qualms. In this way, despite not being in any way equipped to understand the dictates of Annam All-Patter, hill giants unknowingly pay homage to their creator goddess’ will.

Unambitious Stupidity

With size being everything to the hill giants, all other capabilities and talents are seen as worthless in their eyes. As a result, hill giants generally have no ambition to do anything but acquire and consume vast quantities of food. It is unknown if Annam gave the hill giants their simple goals, understanding that they were too dumb to aim for more complex achievements, or if the undemanding rigours of their place in the Ordning rotted the hill giants’ brains over the generations. In either case, intelligence is a rare thing to find among the hill giants of today, and the hill giants honestly do not care.

As far as hill giants are concerned, mental capabilities are only useful insofar as a marginally smarter hill giant may occasionally trick one of her fellows into surrendering food to her. Beyond these sorts of instances, wits are a feature that hill giants are sorely lacking in and have little interest in attaining. After all, where a brainy individual may waste their time making elaborate plots, parlaying with foes, or grappling with the ethics of their actions, a hill giant can simply barge in, eat her fill, use an uprooted tree to stove in the heads of weaklings, and eat their remains too without a second thought.

As a result of having never needed to, hill giants stubbornly refuse to advance their minds and cultures. Most hill giants live in large huts, little more than stacks of fallen trees sealed with mud. They speak the language of giants, but usually only in a simplified form more often spoken by the most feral giant-kin, audibly akin to a series of grunts and monosyllabic utterances. Hill giants also tend not to make much in the way of art or other cultural imports beyond inane games that typically revolve around shoving food into their faces or hitting each other.

For the most part, hill giants are more than powerful enough to dominate their environment, despite their stupidity. However, certain clever individuals have used the dim-wittedness of hill giants in order to bring about their defeat, or at least have them back out of a fight that they would have by all rights won.

For one thing, hill giants have little concept of deception. When they choose to converse, hill giants are blunt and direct. Hill giants thus expect everyone they talk to and everything they experience to be so as well, making them take everything at face value. Folk tales are thus rife with hill giants being scared off by smithies made to resemble dragons by a coat of pots and pans, or by larger giants who were in fact towers of peasants, standing on each other’s shoulders under a ramshackle cloak of sown together blankets. One story involves a hero disguising a pair of wagons before standing behind them to pose as a warrior of unfathomably huge breasts, crushing the confidence of the bust obsessed brutes. More ambitious and usually villainous, individuals have even converted hill giants into living siege engines for their battles by claiming an enemy tower or keep is an oversized grain silo or barn that they would happily help the giants break into.

Though outwitting a hill giant is normally the best way to gain her assistance or peacefully resolve a conflict with her, one must be very careful in its undertaking, as hill giants do not take well to deception should it be discovered. When a hill giant feels tricked, used, or otherwise made a fool out of, she normally responds with an unconscionable rage. Even if she manages to flatten the one that fooled her, an angry hill giant’s rampage will normally continue as she smashes everyone and everything in sight until she tires herself out, something distracts her, or she feels hungry.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hill Giants

Besides eating, the physical pleasure of rutting like animals is one of the main ways hill giants entertain themselves. Still, hill giants are not as sexually indiscriminate as they may seem. Just about conscious of the danger that could come with opening herself up to physical intimacy with just anyone, most hill giants have only one or two partners with whom they feel safe fucking.

Hill giants are most attracted to particularly big partners, with great height, a generous bulk, and titanic tits all being attractive features. In opposition to this attraction up the Ordning ranks, hill giants also like having a partner who is beneath them, whom they can thus command and control as they like. As a result, most hill giant couples consist of a bigger and stronger hill giant mating with a smaller, weaker hill giant, whom they bully into obedience. Particularly huge hill giants may have several such subordinate mates who are tasked with not only pleasuring her but also bringing her food and fighting to defend her corpulent form. Often, this harem is built by poaching the mates of rivals during a hill giant’s rise to obese predominance.

The attraction hill giants feel also generally keeps them within the rules the Ordning sets out regarding sex too. Female hill giants don’t try to force anything too much bigger than them, such as other breeds of giants, to fuck them, meaning that a firm rejection is all other giants need to keep hill giants from trying to fuck beneath their station. Meanwhile, most things smaller than a hill giant are too pathetic and sexually unattractive in her eyes to lead her to sinfully fuck them.

When hill giants have sexual partners, they tend to fuck almost all the time, whenever they have leisure moments. Most hill giants don’t understand the link between sex and children, so they do not take measures against pregnancy while they fuck. Thanks to the low fertility of female giants, pregnancy still isn’t all that common among hill giants.

When a hill giant does get pregnant, she rarely realises what is going on until she gives birth just under a year later. From the mother-to-be’s perspective, her stomach randomly expands while her tits swell with milk, and her already voracious appetite intensifies. Most hill giants are delighted by these developments, as her growing size and ability to consume even more than usual temporarily boost her position in her kind’s Ordning, gaining her authority over others and inadvertently tricking her tribe into aiding and defending her at her most vulnerable. Even after birth, most hill giants retain a little of their pregnancy weight, making the experience an overall positive one.

Though a hill giant doesn’t make an exceptional mother, usually preferring to feed herself than her child when pushed, she does have maternal instincts enough to feed and defend her child when doing so isn’t massively injurious to her from the baby’s birth all the way to its adolescence at around thirty years old, at which point most young hill giants are fully capable of feeding themselves, though it will still be a couple decades more until they are big enough to start drawing influence among other adult hill giants.

Men to Hill Giants

When a hill giant spots a male creature, she normally initially focuses on only one thing: the fact that he has no tits. Since the bust size of a creature is one of the major features a hill giant bases her judgement of size and worthiness upon, a hill giant automatically assumes that a man, being breastless, is the most utterly pathetic instance of his kind she has ever seen. How a hill giant responds to this belief varies; some may feel a horror that verges almost on pity; some may be filled with a sick curiosity; some will be so disgusted that they feel compelled to destroy the man; but most simply laugh, ceaselessly mocking the man for his perceived worthlessness.

For humanoid men, proving one’s worth or might to a hill giant without overwhelming violence or seducing her without rape is a losing battle. Being both small and without tits, the men of small folk are doubly unattractive to hill giants, who will likely respond to traditional flirtation with confusion, disgust, or rage. Posturing and intimidation from a breastless man is also about as effective on a busty female hill giant as threats from a toothless mouse would be, with her seeing even reasonable threats as comically unlikely when coming from someone without the breasts to back them up. In order to be taken seriously by a hill giant, a man will normally have to physically overwhelm her and then fuck some respect into her.

After being raped like this, most hill giants realise that fucking a man, no matter how big he is, feels incredible. Not inherently knowing that such a thing is forbidden, a hill giant who has made the discovery of sex with men will normally want to do it again and again. Still, it is unlikely that a hill giant will submit to a significantly smaller man, like most humanoids, instead seeing him as a precious commodity to keep to herself. If a man is not careful, he may well be at risk of being abducted by his rape victim almost the moment she recovers.

Male giants, despite the Ordning actively encouraging them to fuck him, suffer a similar problem as other men when it comes to female hill giants. Though they will recognise him as a giant, a giant without breasts seems much smaller than he really is by a hill giant’s flawed judgement, and thus they feel at liberty to mock, insult, and sexually deny him with no expected consequence. This often leads the male giant to rape the disrespectful morons out of shear annoyance, teaching each in turn to appreciate his cock. Hill giants rarely learn by observing the fate of others, so a male giant must usually perform the arduous task of overpowering each member of the tribe in turn to bring the mockery to an end.

Male hill giants are born directly into this disparagement. Being far too small to overpower his mother and her tribemates in his first few decades, male hill giant children start small, sating their lust on animals before graduating to people and common monsters as he grows. Eventually he will be strong enough to force himself on the women of his tribe, at which point he will normally be able to take over from the sheer lust he provokes in them, rapidly increasing his mass as the tribe starts bringing him offerings of food to be given more of his dick.

If he comes into contact with other kinds of giants at this point, he may try to rape them too, only to learn (usually through a sound thrashing) that, while they may be willing to ride his cock, other kinds of true giants are his superiors, and he must treat them at least with respect. This lesson in basic courtesy rarely finds its way into the rest of a male hill giant’s life, as he remains free to rape anyone and anything else he desires. The children of a male hill giant’s non-giant victims are generally bigger and stronger than average, with a formidable constitution and a voracious appetite.

Chapter 126: Stone Giant

Often hidden deep in the caves, one is unlikely to come across one of the retiring stone giants unless they are the savage dregs of their society or one has intruded on the sanctity of their home. As such, few small folks are likely to see the calm and frankly beautiful culture that the stone giants keep to themselves. As their name suggests, a stone giant resembles a living statue, roughly eighteen feet tall, carved from stone. Despite this, stone giants rarely seem all that craggy or bulky for their size. The lithe, athletic form of a stone giant’s body speaks to a level of masterful sculpting that her hands seek to emulate every single day.

Ordning of Artistry

From the outside, stone giants can seem like primitive and savage people. For clothes, stone giants tend to stitch together treated hides into simple tunics; for weapons, they often carry little more than a wooden log or a broken-off stalagmite and a handful of rocks to throw. However, these traits are only how the stone giants present themselves to outsiders. A stone giant’s true self comes out in the darkness of their subterranean homes. With only their highly acute vision and the barest flames to see it by, stone giants produce works of incredible beauty and detail.

To advance in the Ordning of the stone giants, one must express themselves through an artistic medium. Though any form of artistic expression is acceptable to the Ordning, most stone giants learn to work with the medium closest to hand: stone. Within the caves of stone giants, frescos stretch from wall to wall, statues occupy every corner, and rune-covered tablets and reading cylinders are propped up on prominent display.

As well as things of beauty, the art of stone giants often acts as a record of giant history, not only for themselves but also for other kinds of giants. Some stone giants are even known to leave the comfort of their caves to become chroniclers for other kinds of giants. The records made by stone giants, carved into their tablets and on their walls, are not only artful and detailed but also virtually always true, to the best of the carver’s knowledge. A stone giant may lie in speech or action in the right situation, but to put a falsehood into artwork, be it writing or image, is to ruin it completely. This can be aggravating for giants who like their secrecy or have come to experience a humiliation that a stone giant got wind of, but little can assuage a stone giant from committing to stone anything less than the absolute truth, albeit sometimes couched in metaphor and implications that any raised outside of giant culture would struggle to understand.

Of course, not all stone giants can be masterful stonemasons. Such a failing does not preclude a giant from all advancement, however. Though not as prized as traditional artistic talent, stone giants believe there is some artistry to be found in the poise of athletic excellence, namely, rock throwing. All true giants, to an extent, are practiced rock throwers, possessing skill beyond the simple heft their great muscles enable. Stone giants take this skill and develop it further until it is a work of art. Not only can a stone giant throw a boulder with pinpoint accuracy and devastating power, but they can catch those same projectiles with consummate ease. Therefore, what can seem to passing small folk as a titanic war between bitter rivals in the mountains can in fact simply be a bit of sport between friends.

Those who lack the creativity of an artist and the grace of an athlete are reduced to the dregs of stone giant society. These uncultured dullards are banished to the cave entrance and beyond to guard against attack and find food for the tribe’s more valuable members. Simple-minded and dull, these stone giants are normally unusually foul-tempered compared to the rest of their kind, earning the stone giants an unduly savage reputation among the small folk.

Dreams of the Surface

Among the mortal giants living today, stone giants are, by a rather wide margin, the most long-lived. The average modern stone giant can expect to enjoy a lifespan upwards of seven hundred years. This monumental lifetime affects the perspective of stone giants in several fundamental ways. To a stone giant’s eyes, an underground river gradually undulates and shifts; meanwhile, the stalagmites and stalactites grow like an orchard of stone, while waves of fungi ebb and flow like the tides.

If a stone giant looks outside her underground home, out at the surface world, the effect is even more dramatic. Whole forests can crop up from seed to maturity like fields of wheat; the seasons shift in the blink of an eye; and smaller creatures are born and die in the span of heartbeats. Faced with such unstable impermanence, most stone giants come to a singular conclusion. The world above the stability of their caves is an illusion, nothing more than a fitful dream.

This is not to say that the stone giants think the surface to be totally unreal; they understand that they can be affected by it, aggressors can injure them, and animals they hunt up there can feed their families, but in a world where everything can change tomorrow, a stone giant simply can’t conceive that anything up there could matter. A stone giant on the surface is a dangerous being, not because she is particularly aggressive, but because she acts as most people would act in a dream. A stone giant above ground will flit from one interest to another, make promises she has no intention of keeping, and act on her merest whims. A stone giant feels no guilt for her actions once she returns underground; after all, whoever they wronged will more than likely be dead soon enough.

Many people who have suffered under the whims of a stone giant abroad, and even a few giants of other lineages, like to accuse the otherwise wise stone giants of being wilfully ignorant of the world above and how they should behave up there. There may, however, be an intrinsic factor in the nature of stone giants beyond their control that causes their eccentricities. While stone giants will venture above ground from time to time to hunt, gather resources, or patrol their territories, they avoid staying up for long, at least seeking to return home or find a cave to take shelter in by sunrise. Stone giants who fail to avoid extended exposure to the surface begin to behave oddly, for all intents and purposes going insane. Some theorise that it is a burgeoning form of this madness that keeps the stone giants from behaving sensibly on their shorter excursions.

Sex and Sexuality Among Stone Giants

For stone giants, sex is as much a part of life as anything else, and as such, it has a place in their artwork. A stone giant who sculpted nothing but sex would likely be viewed with some concern, but so would a stone giant who had no records of sexual activity, especially if that giant had a mate.

As with all things, female stone giants take their time when selecting a mate. Most stone giants don’t settle down properly until they are at least a few centuries old, and few stone giants would dream of fucking someone they haven’t known for at least a hundred years. Generally, stone giants are most attracted to those with a similar talent to their own. Carvers end up courting carvers, athletes woo athletes, and those that are left usually either remain single by choice or settle for each other. Once stone giants find mates, however, they remain together solidly for life. The libido of female stone giants isn’t all that high, and, like most true giants, their fertility isn’t very good either, thus keeping their birthrate low enough to suit their long lives. Thanks to their small number, stone giants are highly protective of their children, particularly in the fifty or so years it takes for them to physically mature.

Though it has a place in their society and art, stone giants are still rather private about their sex lives. Having a sense of shame and a strong tendency towards introversion, stone giants tend to shy away from carving themselves in sexual positions in public galleries and caverns, instead using clearly fictionalised accounts. Still, the stone giant's desire for the truth demands that they record these embarrassing exploits somewhere. To solve this issue, most stone giants find a cave a little way off from the main quarters of their tribe and carve their personal lives there, in a manner akin to a diary. Just like most people, stone giants are passionate about protecting the contents of their wall-bound journals and may even install traps and false detours to keep unwelcome individuals from reading their inner thoughts.

As well as all the noteworthy sexual occasions and taboo desires that haunt a stone giant’s mind, her private cave also tends to portray humiliations and defeats that are important to the history of stone giants as a whole. As such, when a stone giant passes away, it is normally customary for their tribe to open up their private cave, undertaking the awkward task of sifting through the embarrassing and personal matters to find and preserve those few nuggets of vital history.

Men to Stone Giants

Even when it comes to other female creatures, stone giants are rarely fond of visitors or wider social interaction. Most beings are completely forbidden from entering the caves of a stone giant tribe, with intruders being forced out with violence if need be. Even giants that demand the stone giant’s respect, thanks to their higher Ordning rank, are usually only allowed into their homes begrudgingly. On the rare occasion a stone giant is out and about, she usually prefers to keep her distance from strangers, staying off major trails, and being surprisingly stealthy for her size, especially underground or in the mountains, as they prefer.

When it comes to non-giant men, a stone giant experiences all her kind’s normal introverted tendencies, compounded by the threat of falling out of the Ordning’s favour should she succumb to lust or force and fuck him. As a result, most stone giants are unnaturally vigilant at the very sight of men. Though unlikely to actively try and kill a passing man unless he tries to rape her, a stone giant will normally shut down any attempt at conversation a man performs and may rather violently try to remove him from her presence, possibly even throwing or punting him into underground lakes and fungus patches should he startle her.

Alarming or not, an encounter with a man of any kind is usually a noteworthy experience for a stone giant, worthy of being written in stone somewhere. Usually a stone giant artistically records her encounter within her private cave, for most such recordings make note of her feelings as well as the objective facts of the encounter. As well as their unease and concern at meeting a man, many stone giants, in the name of honesty, also record how meeting a man also made them slightly interested in him and lustful.

For the most part, the modicum of lust stone giants feel when exposed to a man is trumped by their caution and loyalty to the Ordning. However, on a few occasions, stone giants can be found in a much more liberated mental state. This state almost always occurs above ground, in the impermanent world of the surface. Even when they feel in a dream, however, most stone giants do not feel at liberty to fuck small folk; after all, pregnancy, the natural consequence of fucking a man, persists when a giant returns to the reality of underground. As such, it is normally only younger or lower-ranking stone giants, those with less experience on the surface, who fail to control their desires.

When it comes to male giants, stone giants usually remain reserved but are much more welcoming than usual should they come to visit. Well versed in the history of giants and the tenets of the Ordning, female stone giants are thus honoured to fuck a giant man and carry his baby. Like most giants, however, stone giants prefer men of their own lineage. Male stone giants are usually surprisingly reserved for men, often shying away from overt displays of sexual power and instead taking interested women aside to fuck in private caverns.

As well as the boost to their ranking a male stone giant gets for impregnating his female fellows, stone giants also consider a male stone giant’s sexual proficiency to be an athletic artform, albeit an unusual one. As such, most male stone giants advance to become thanes of their kind, even before considering any rock-throwing or stone-sculpting skills they are likely to have. Compared to other male giants, male stone giants are some of the most singularly dedicated to fucking other giants, as opposed to entertaining themselves with other female creatures. On the rare occasion a non-giant is impregnated by a male stone giant, the offspring are usually tall, lean, and strong, with somewhat stony skin tones, reduced hair, and a delicate precision with their hands that lends itself well to craftsmanship and ranged combat.

Chapter 127: Storm Giant

Mysterious and remote, storm giants are the highest of the mortal giants, not only by their position in the Ordning but also by their size, standing over twenty-five feet tall on average, their natural affinity for primordial power, and some of the many domains that they can comfortably call home. With skin tones and hair colours ranging from fog white to sea green to violet, storm giants are diverse in form but can be handily identified not only by their staggering size but also by the fierce magic that roils away in their pensive eyes, rolling silver as a blizzard, blue-green as the waves, or as deeply indigo-black as the night’s sky.

This wise and temperate demeanour is, however, only one side of them, for a storm giant appreciates no mortal authority beyond their own consciences, and the castigating fury of a storm giant can be as swift and devastating as a lightning bolt, lightning bolts being as wieldy as javelins in a storm giant’s hands. Most storm giants are, thankfully, moral creatures with a respect for intelligent life of all kinds. Understanding the collateral devastation their fury can unleash, storm giants normally keep to the sidelines, guiding the forces of good and only acting themselves when circumstances are dire.

Ordning of Prophecy

If there is one trait that unites all storm giants, it is their supreme awareness of details that other mortal beings simply fail to comprehend the significance of. For many, a flock of birds or shoal of fish is just that—a flock or shoal of small, insignificant animals moving together in a meaningless dance. The spiral of the winds and waves, too, are mere natural phenomena, and a horseshoe nail falling out of a squire’s bag is a trivial occurrence. Yet, in the eyes of a storm giant, these minor points can weave together into the tapestry of reality. By looking down these tenuous strands, a storm giant may foresee great battles, auspicious births, disasters, and bounties months or even years in advance of their occurrence. As a result of this natural gift of prediction, storm giants are, in essence, oracles.

The gift of foresight also plays a role in how storm giants rank in the Ordning, compared to each other. When storm giants come into contact with one another, their approaches are preceded by omens. By reading these omens, it becomes clear which storm giant is superior to which. Most of the time, however, the precise dictates of who is superior to who matter little for most interactions between storm giants since they rarely pull rank on each other.

Unlike all other forms of giants, a storm giant’s position in the Ordning is largely unbound by her personal actions. A storm giant can cause her ranking to rise or drop a little by performing what are generally considered sinful and holy acts against the Ordning as a whole, but she mostly has her position thanks to the whims of fate, the giant goddesses, and possibly Annam All-Patter herself. As a result, unlike most giants, the lives of storm giants are not dedicated to advancing in Ordning rank. Instead, most storm giants spend their lives with the wider goal of restoring the honour of giant kind.

Ironically, the storm giants’ community-minded goals seem to drive them away from the giants they supposedly rule over. Most of the time, storm giants leave other giants to their own devices. A storm giant does generally find the more evil actions of her lesser kin to be distasteful and may step in if she is a direct witness of uncalled for cruelty, but storm giants also believe that all giants are as Annam made them, wickedness included, so there must ultimately be a greater good born of them.

Instead of directing their power downward, through the ranks, the storm giants generally look outward, spending their lives in search of signs in the omens. With all the prophecies that storm giants see in their lives, it rarely takes long for one to become detached. Good and evil wrestle in an eternal equilibrium; empires rise and fall. In the face of all this unchanging change, a storm giant finds it hard to be inspired to act one way or the other. However, most storm giants do have a subtle fondness for the side of good and the sanctity of life, even if it is behind a leaden sense of motivation and an ego that subtly threatens to outstrip their impressive height. If adventurers and fellow giants of moral intentions make the trek to a storm giant’s remote steading and are respectful once they get there, she may grant them advice and prophecies to help them on their quest.

Thanks to their wise advice over the centuries, along with other miraculous deeds such as alteration of the weather and elimination of wicked beasts, storm giants sometimes gain the worship of local people, who consider her their immortal queen or lesser goddess. Most storm giants are benevolent enough to be bemused but not enamoured by the power this worship gives them over people. They rule fairly, wisely, and from a distance, accepting the occasional offering of food and tithes as a matter of practical survival but otherwise taking little from their worshipers. On the rare occasion that power does go to a storm giant’s head, she can become a dreadful tyrant.

Rulers from Above and Below

Unlike many giants, storm giants have a diverse array of habitats that they will happily settle into. Moreso than the present conditions, however, storm giants usually seek for their homes to be isolated and remote, difficult for all but the most determined, and thus important, visitors to gain access to. Some storm giants reside in a few of the remaining cloud castles, floating so high in the sky that even passing dragons are mere specks. Others go the other way, building their homes deep in caverns within the Underdark, where they are lit by trellises of bioluminescent fungi, glowing crystals, and lanterns lit by the giant’s natural magic.

Naturally resistant to the cold, most storm giants can just as easily make a home for themselves on mountaintops and deep in the tundra, where even frost giants hesitate before venturing. Not even air is a requirement for storm giants. Thanks to their innate magic, a storm giant can breathe water just as easily and swim as swiftly as they can stride. Many of the most fantabulous abodes of storm giants are found under the sea. Some occupy bright, corral-encrusted castles that are almost one with the reef; others construct foreboding fortresses deep in an ocean trench.

Regardless of their home, storm giants are more often than not alone. Preferring to spend their lives in contemplation of the omens that visit them. Around the fortified abode of a storm giant, storms often rage thanks to the giant’s magic. This not only threatens all but the most driven would-be intruders but also pleases the giant, who finds comfort in the rain, the howling wind, and the lightning flashes.

When storm giants do interact with each other, it is to share and interpret signs or maintain social bonds. These meetings are brief and often rather cautiously handled, not so much out of shyness as an appreciation for solitude and understanding of the delicate hold storm giants have on their emotions. Though usually calm and wise, it does not take much for wisdom to be put aside for passion in a storm giant. Minor disagreements, if not swiftly put aside, can swiftly explode into thunderous arguments or brawls, while hurt feelings can cause an otherwise stoic storm giant to spiral into days of inconsolable depression. Even when experiencing positive emotions, such as the throes of excitement, storm giants can quite forget their own power, knocking over houses in a merry dance, tearing up mountain tops in what is to them simple play, and briefly deafening nearby small folk with unrestrained shouts of jubilation.

The consequences of high emotions play a major role in why storm giants prefer to live so remotely from others. When interacting with those seeking their knowledge, particularly those of smaller races, a storm giant must restrain herself and attempt to stay calm, lest she give unwise, emotionally driven responses or even hurt her would-be students. For a being as passionate as a storm giant, such restraint is exhausting, so she prefers to spend much of her time alone, away from anyone she could harm, and with few influences to make her fly off the handle.

Sex and Sexuality Among Storm Giants

As mentioned, storm giants are the most solitary of giants. Yet, storm giants will head out to interact with all their distant neighbours every now and then. These meetings usually take place in the remote wilderness, away from prying eyes, partially for privacy and partially to let the giants act as they truly are without fear of causing significant collateral damage. Most of these meetings are merely to catch up, maintain distant friendships, and discuss both prophecy and the state of giantkind, but storm giants will sometimes develop a romantic attraction to one another.

Romance between storm giants is not by any means a subtle affair, generally going unnoticed only because it tends to happen far away from any little people who could disturb it. Unable to stifle feelings like lust, desire, and affection, storm giants express their feelings for another of their kind almost as soon as the feelings emerge. If these emotions are not well received, there can be a devastating amount of upset and anger born of it from both sides. A mutual interest is rarely any more peaceful, though misery is replaced by joy and excitement. Despite their wise and regal bearing as well as their resilience, sex between storm giants is often such a vigorous affair that it is not uncommon for lovers to unintentionally injure each other with bruises and the like.

Though storm giants can enjoy fucking one another immensely, the true purpose of sex between them is, of course, to have storm giant children. During the pregnancy and raising of the children to adulthood, storm giants overcome their isolationism to stick together and cooperate, forming a tightly bonded family unit. Pregnancy is generally about two years long for storm giants, and adulthood can take about a century to reach, during which time the parents will help their children interpret the omens around them and learn the history of giantkind and the world. Still, parenthood is only a comparatively short part of a storm giant’s long life. After raising anywhere from one to three children with her wife, the pair of storm giants will amicably part ways, returning to the solitude they have so missed.

Men to Storm Giants

As a race of giants unbound by their own Ordning ranking system, one of the few ways for a storm giant to realistically tarnish their standing is to lay with a non-giant man. Strictly dedicated to the eventual return of Annam, pretty much all storm giants are loathe to defy the rulings she left behind. As a result, most storm giants avoid and intentionally repel men in any way they can. A storm giant generally respects a man’s right to live, so she is unlikely to try and strike him down unprovoked, but a storm giant's already barely restrained emotions are tensed further by a man’s very presence, making her all the more likely to lash out.

Despite the misgivings of non-giant men, storm giants know that men are often intimately involved in some of the most major events. In addition, many men end up taking on a heroic role, seeking to better the world. Though it makes her uncomfortable, a storm giant will normally conclude that a male hero is just as deserving of guidance as a female one. Still, a storm giant makes no move to welcome a man to her domain. Conversation is generally kept professional, and attempts to flirt by the man are met with scorn. Tales of storm giants willingly or being coerced into fucking a humanoid are few, far between, and largely apocryphal.

Where Annam commanded the giants to shun cocks of smaller races, however, males of the giant brood are praised by her teachings. So strong is Annam’s predilection towards giant males that, despite her otherwise near complete absence, she ensures that at least one storm giant receives an omen when a male true giant of any kind is born, often one that resides close to the site of his birth. When such an insight is granted to a storm giant, it becomes her responsibility to check on the lad, ensuring that he is safe from attack and well raised, and that his physical, societal, and sexual needs are cared for. Normally, the storm giants prefer to leave the giant among his own kind so that he can learn the ways of his kind from his fellows, but the storm giants will take him elsewhere if his birth family either rejects his glory or is unable to protect him from some monumental threat.

Though they are responsible for his proper care, a storm giant isn’t necessarily required to fuck her male ward. Whether she does normally depends on how directly she has to involve herself in his care and how he grows up to be, with particularly arrogant or cruel male giants rarely getting to fuck their storm giant guardians. Likely due to this extreme pickiness, male storm giants are normally defined by their wisdom, forethought, and silver tongue when flirting and otherwise. Female storm giants, not to mention most other female giants, can become swiftly enamoured by a male storm giant’s powerful yet respectful countenance.

In this way, a storm giant male may sometimes even be crowned the storm king, ruling not only all storm giants but technically all giants on the Material Plane. While a storm king lives, he ushers in an era of great unity and advancement for all giant kind. Though no king has yet recovered their empire of Titan Dass, some have arguably come close. When not breeding and leading the giants, storm kings often practice by extending their charms to various smaller races, fucking and impregnating them too. The non-giant children of male storm giants are normally tall and strong, with grey or emerald eyes and sometimes an affinity for elemental or divinatory magics.

Chapter 128: Gibbering Mouther

Notes:

WARNING: This is a particularly fucked up monster, if you aren't comfortable reading about flesh, gore, and cannibalism, give this chapter a miss. Nobody will judge you.

Coming into existence by what one can only hope was an act of the most depraved spellcasters, the gibbering mouther is a mass of liquified flesh. Across its body, mouths tear open with an uncountable array of sounds, eyes roll to the surface before sinking again, and breasts swell and deflate like boils.  So foul is the gibbering mouther that its very presence corrupts the ground around it, turning earth and stone into a fleshy mire for prey transfixed by the horrible chorus of its myriad maws.

With Many Voices

The main features of a gibbering mouther are, as the name suggests, her many, many mouths. The mouths come in all shapes and sizes, from humanoid to bestial, lipless, jawed, and even radial, like a lamprey’s. Each of a gibbering mouther’s mouths drools a luminescent spittle that can flash blindingly when gobbed at a target and has both an insatiable hunger for flesh and a voice.

Gibbering mouthers are, thankfully, not sentient, having an intellect akin to that of most beasts and having no social instincts, with mouthers just as willing to eat each other as other creatures. As such, the voices of a gibbering mouther are for purely predatory purposes. In response to the sight of prey, a gibbering mouther's mouths all begin to babble independently of each other. One mouth may scream in agony while its neighbour moans in sensual pleasure. A mouth may bark, howl, or rasp, even as others utter horrifyingly coherent words, either in a nonsense word salad or in almost understandable phrases.

Altogether, the cacophony of voices overwhelms the senses of a creature that hears it, risking the erosion of their sanity like chalk on a rasp. If a creature manages to resist the assault on their senses, most have the sense to plug their ears and flee. The slithering of a gibbering mouther is not all that fast, so even as the ground warps around them, most creatures can escape with only the hunting memory of what they have seen, so long as they keep their wits.

If a creature is unable to tolerate the madness of a gibbering mouther’s chorus, they may completely lose their mind. Often struck dumb by the mouther’s call, most victims can only stare in horror as the aberration approaches. Some run in random directions or lash out at friends and foe alike, but the result is often the same. Those few who are rescued or manage to overcome the noise at the last second may escape and regain their faculties in due time. Some such survivors may end up dwelling on the gibbering mouther’s call, however. Unfortunately, that way lies only true, lifelong insanity. More often, the transfixed and irrational victim makes easy prey for the mouther, who slithers over for flesh to silence her mouths upon.

Flesh Assimilation

A gibbering mouther’s body is made entirely out of flesh and undefined bodily tissue, with the exception of her eyes and teeth, which float around inside her when not on the surface. Thanks to this, a mouther can slip through gaps only a few inches wide and slide through water, mud, and the like just as easily as she can over supernaturally softened ground. A gibbering mouther can also reshape herself to make her entire body into a muscle, allowing her to exert a surprising amount of pulling force for her squishy appearance.

Sinking some of her teeth into the dough-like floor, the gibbering mouther can then bite down with several others on her prey. With one fearsome contraction, the gibbering mouther can rip off pieces of flesh or even drag her victim to the ground, where they are yet more vulnerable to further bites.

With prey at her mercy, a gibbering mouther is like a pack of feral beasts all in one, her mouths fighting among each other to eat the creature alive. When a gibbering mouther consumes a creature, she eats every scrap of it, leaving not a hair, tooth, or bone behind. A gibbering mouther may only sometimes spit out inorganic items like rocks and metal, but is just as likely to retain them in a gullet-like repository for a while. As such, when a gibbering mouther is slain, there may be coins, gems, or other treasures left in her melting carcass, among an array of other inedible garbage her prior victims possessed.

Somewhat more disturbing, even as a gibbering mouther consumes her prey, its eyes and teeth relocate, bobbing to the surface to look around and form yet another babbling mouth while a new set of tits also grow. This hints at what a gibbering mouther truly is: a mad amalgam of living flesh that mindlessly seeks out more. It is hoped that the minds of a gibbering mouther’s victims are not in any way retained within the monster; gibbering mouthers, after all, have no brains. Yet there is often something sickeningly familiar about the voices of a gibbering mouther who has eaten one known to their next victim.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gibbering Mouthers

Along with eyes and teeth, a gibbering mouther also takes the tits and pussies of her victims. Unlike other parts, the tits of a gibbering mouther match her prey’s only in approximate size, otherwise being little more than randomly arranged balloons of raw flesh with nipples, along with eyes and mouths upon them. The pussy of a gibbering mouther is harder to find, though she will always have at least one somewhere on her body. It may be on a breast, in the cleavage, at the end of a tendril, or even protected inside a mouth. In any case, the gibbering mouther has little use for her pussy, since it plays no role in her natural reproduction.

When a gibbering mouther has eaten enough to reach a certain size, normally around four hundred pounds, her body automatically begins to split apart, with flesh, eyes, and mouths sloughing off until one oversized gibbering mouther becomes anywhere from two to eight smaller ones. Thankfully, but also disturbingly, this is not where reproduction ends for the gibbering mouther, for the instinct to consume any living being also extends to eating one another.

Tearing into each other in a morass of gore, the gibbering mouthers eat each other. If one mouther eats enough of its siblings, it will reach critical mass and split again, starting the dreadful cycle anew. Eventually, one or two mouthers will have their will to live overcome their endless hunger, and try to escape the orgy of birth and cannibalism, preventing critical mass from being reached and bringing the horror to an end.

Men to Gibbering Mouthers

As far as one is able to tell, gibbering mouthers have no sexual instincts, only a desire to feed. When a gibbering mouther encounters a man, therefore, she experiences hunger, not desire. Likewise, the shear quantity of teeth as well as the difficulty in locating her pussy discourage most men from trying to fuck a gibbering mouther in return. As such, sex between men and gibbering mouthers is an ill-researched area since most men and gibbering mouthers more often seek to kill each other to end the horror and for food, respectively.

Still, if a man can find it, normally with the aid of paralytic magic to avoid bites, he can find and insert his cock into a gibbering mouther’s pussy. Though less fertile than most beasts and monstrosities, perhaps due to her unstable biology, there is at least one record of a man’s sperm impregnating a gibbering mouther. The pregnancy of the aberration, kept imprisoned in the male mage’s laboratory, lasted a similar time to the pregnancy of a human woman’s. Little is written of the offspring, save that it was distinctly not a gibbering mouther and that it was consumed by its mother before Radovid the Mad, as he was from then on called, could intervene.

Gibbering mouthers also appear to be an all-female species, in so far as they all have breasts and at least one vagina. All these traits, however, are inherited from their female prey. Some theorise that if a gibbering mouther were to consume a male creature, it would grow a penis. Others baulk at this suggestion, claiming that a creature suddenly becoming male or somehow having both male and female anatomy simultaneously would break the rules set by Nymphona herself as to how reality works. How such a cock having gibbering mouther would behave, whether normally or with an extra sexual hunger to add to its hunger for flesh, is unknown. So far, however, there is no record of a gibbering mouther who has successfully slain and consumed a male creature, making the results of such a grizzly event still up for debate.

Chapter 129: Gith

The gith are a race of people united by a shared suffering under the yoke of the terrible mind flayers and the war they fought to be free of them, but then divided by all that transpired after. In appearance, gith are mostly yellow-skinned, darkly freckled, brown-haired humanoids with pointed ears and lanky limbs. The name gith, is derived from Gith, the member of their kind who rose to prominence and led the gith in rebellion against their illithid masters.

The divide between the gith centres primarily on opinions towards their first leader. The githyanki remain loyal to Gith’s memory through their continued obedience to her second in command, the lich Vlaakith. The githzerai, though grateful for their freedom, agree with their prophet, Zerthimon, that Gith’s militaristic ideals gave cause for concern, inspiring them to abandon her and her followers. The githyanki and githzerai will have their own chapters dedicated to them. This chapter covers the gith as a whole.

A History Forgotten

Who or what the gith were before the mind-flayers found them is lost to the mists of time after centuries of slavery and suffering. Some theorise that the gith are descended from another race of humanoids, such as humans or elves, before being selectively bred for traits the ilithids found desirable. Others imagine that the gith are a hybrid of various races and creatures, with the ilithids taking the parts they desired from each and breeding them together into a singular, ideal slave race. A few, however, hold out hope that the gith always were a race all their own, and out there, somewhere, are survivors who escaped mind flayer persecution and retain the memories of who they once were.

All gith mourn the past that the mind flayers took from them. Hints of lost gith culture, however tenuous, are bound to attract both githyanki and githzerai eventually, and where the two halves of the race meet, chaos and violence will surely follow, often to the detriment of bystanders. To the githyanki, the githzerai are ungrateful traitors who betrayed their liberator the moment they no longer needed her. To the githzerai, the githyanki are blind fools whose gratitude for being freed from one form of slavery made them gladly walk straight into another. Though open warfare has died down between the two races, any meeting between githzerai and gityanki will end in bloodshed unless they are distracted by a mind flayer.

Gith, regardless of type, all know that the root of all their kind's suffering, their lost past, and their division ultimately stems from their kind’s abduction and enslavement by the mind flayers. Knowing this, both githyanki and githzerai have an endless vendetta against the mind flayers strong enough to make the two factions put their differences aside for a while and work together in the name of illithid death. The original rebellion, led by Gith herself, shattered the illithid empire, sending its remnants into hiding, pathetic shadows of what they once were. This is not enough for the gith, however; when even a hint of mind flayer activity is detected, the gith assemble hunting parties and head out to slay the aberrations.

Psychic Gifts

Perhaps due to the long centuries they have lived in close contact with the cruel but psionically adept mind flayers, all gith have a natural aptitude for the invisible art, if practiced in slightly different manners. The githyanki, with their cultural propensity for analysis and awareness, operate their psionic powers through exercises etched into their minds through pure wrote memorization. The githzerai, more outwardly contemplative, learn to extend their psychic awareness, feeling the world around them with their minds and thus acting upon it.

Despite the differences between the two cultures in how they control their abilities, both manifest similar powers. All gith can, from early childhood, pick up and manipulate objects with their minds alone. A gith’s psionic can also augment their movement, letting them bound astounding distances, protect themselves from physical and mental assaults, and see more than immediately meets the eye.

If a gith continues to train her psychic abilities beyond those of her average peers, she may gain more formidable capabilities. These more talented gith, with their minds alone, can wreak destruction, wrack minds, and, crucially, wrench themselves and others out of one reality and into another. This latter power, the ability to psychically shift between planes, is the key to the gith’s expansion, with both races using it to settle and travel from great extraplanar holdfasts—the githyanki on the endless astral sea, the githzerai in the roiling chaos of Limbo.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gith

With how much their cultures have diverged over the centuries, it should be no surprise that the githyanki and the githzerai have very different outlooks when it comes to finding a mate, reproducing, and raising the resultant children. Despite their cultural differences, however, both kinds of gith are practically identical in terms of their anatomy and physical nature, to the point where one could swap a githyanki and a githzerai at birth and there would be no way to tell. Therefore, all gith share the same physical process of pregnancy.

Like most living creatures, a female gith can get pregnant after having sex with another gith. Physically, there is nothing stopping a githyanki and githzerai breeding, but the deep cultural hatred they hold for each other normally makes them both disgusted at the very idea. Unlike some races, like humans and elves, gith don’t seem to be physically capable of having offspring with other female humanoids, though it may simply be that neither githyanki nor githzerai commonly go out looking to fuck women of other races.

Only one or two months after initial impregnation, given normal Material Plane conditions, a pregnant gith lays a single leathery egg. These eggs require warmth and protection, so they are normally put somewhere safe, a heavily defended crèche where the eggs can be looked after while their mother can return to her duties. How much a gith will interact with her egg from this point on varies depending on what kind of gith she is, her current societal position, and her busyness.

A gith egg, in ideal conditions, takes eight months to develop. At the end of that time, the baby gith cuts their way out of their egg with sharp nails that gradually dull over the next few weeks. Gith are born with a unique combination of helplessness and independence. A gith can breastfeed her baby, but said babies are also born with teeth and can thus also eat solid food from the start, so long as it is brought to them. For baby gith, it takes about as long as human infants take to learn how to walk and, for that matter, talk. As the young gith grow, they are introduced to their society’s culture, cared for, and given the rudimentary psychic training needed to make use of their natural capabilities. At around eighteen, the young gith are considered adults and are allowed to find their own place among their people.

Men to Gith

In a rare show of cultural unity, neither githyanki nor githzerai have particularly strong feelings for or against men as a whole. Some gith may be strongly attracted to men, seeking to find one to fuck or even breed them. Others are more distrustful, sometimes even violently so. Most, however, are ambivalent, judging and determining attraction to a man by qualities other than his sex.

Likewise, neither gith society does much to judge or praise a gith for fucking a man. As far as most gith are concerned, one’s actions regarding a man are one’s own business. One is only likely to be reprimanded for fucking or scorning a man if doing so interferes with her current duties. A gith who’s lust lets a male prisoner escape will likely face punishment from her superiors, but if her role was instead to host him for diplomatic reasons, rudeness born of a distrust of men would also be frowned upon. Most of the time, however, gith are pragmatic and well organised enough to send gith with the right opinion towards men to deal with men. If a man is to be hunted down for crimes against them, they send a misandrist; if the man needs to be seduced to their way of thinking, they send a slut.

Thanks to their shared history of rising above the shackles of slavery and the supreme mental resilience it takes to handle psychic forces, gith are very difficult to pressure or threaten into sexual submission. They are also more than astute enough to notice when it’s happening and take a dim view of outsiders trying to impinge on their freedom. Virtually all gith are at least somewhat competent warriors, and this, combined with their pride, means that it takes very little in the way of sexual harassment to encourage a gith to employ violence against a man in whom she is not interested.

Male gith do exist, albeit they are born less frequently than among other civilised races. The lifestyles common to both kinds of gith can be a challenge for males thanks to their restrictive and regimented arrangements. Some gith men find themselves unable to take the pressure and end up fleeing. Some gith circumvent the difficulties of a man trying and failing to adapt to their way of life by simply dumping the baby on the Material Plane. Others male gith adapt better, normally with the help of a cadre of infatuated gith women who support them and help them become the best they can be, giving access to the upper ranks of gith society. Even still, these male gith often itch for adventure and are thus normally at the forefront of any expedition, fucking not only their travelling companions but also anything that gets their attention on the way.

Chapter 130: Githyanki

Translating from the Gith language to “Followers of Gith,"  the githyanki are the decedents of those gith rebels that remained loyal to their leader, the brave but militant commander, Gith. Though Gith has been missing since the end of her kind’s rebellion against the mind flayers, she was succeeded by her second in command, Vlaakith, who gave her name to the rulers that came after her, all the way until the current Vlaakith, who secures her seemingly eternal rein by lichdom.

As Gith apparently wanted, the githyanki have risen out of their servitude into a regimented system of military order. Every githyanki has a rank dependent on their martial prowess, psychic power, and the treasures that they bring back to their homes from interplanar raids.

Astral Raiders

For the most part, the githyanki live on the Astral Plane, a vast, unending sea of silver mist where thought and creation meet. Considering themselves the masters of the Astral Plane, githyanki can be found almost anywhere within it on flying skiffs and in outposts that hover in the void. The most dense population of githyanki can, however, be found in Tu’narath, their great city, built on the corpse of a dead, nameless goddess.

Among the many unique properties of the Astral Plane, there is the near-complete absence of time’s ravages. Though time technically passes on the Astral Plane, its effects are limited. Mortal creatures in the Astral Plane do not age, seeds do not sprout, people do not grow hungry, and wounds do not heal unaided. Thanks to this complete stagnation, the githyanki truly need virtually nothing to survive.

Unfortunately, the githyanki are ultimately mortal creatures with minds not built for centuries of waiting around for something they do. A githyanki therefore must stave off boredom somehow. Githyanki generally do this by picking up hobbies. However, few of these distractions last long. The streets of Tu’narath are littered with half-finished artworks, abandoned instruments, and stories that will never have an ending. Thanks to their cultural upbringing, most githyanki end up lacking the patience to maintain any skill apart from warfare. Regardless of age, most githyanki continuously train in swordplay and other forms of combat, relishing the chance to spar or defend their home from the rare assault upon it.

Of course, having an army of bored, immortal warriors just laying around is a risky venture, just asking for an eventual outburst. To avoid this eventuality, Vlaakith directs the fury of her people elsewhere from time to time. Sometimes, when a mind flayer colony is located, an illithid hunt is called for. More often, unfortunately, Vlaakith calls for a raid.

Aboard astral skiffs, hordes of githyanki raiders venture out into other planes in order to fight, kill, rob, and pillage. As far as the githyanki are concerned, all races would be extinct or enslaved by the mind flayers if not for their kind’s deeds, and as such, other people owe the githyanki all they have, justifying their assault. However, since the githyanki raid as a form of entertainment, what they acquire is of less interest to them. Priceless treasures may grant a githyanki some fleeting interest as she toys with their capabilities and decides where to put them, but she will likely toss them aside after a little while, discarding them like trash. The same is true for any living loot they attain; after a while, the githyanki tire of treating their captives like slaves and toss them out, technically freeing them but also consigning them to a life as a second-class citizen stranded in a githyanki city or outpost in the Astral Plane.

Gifts of Vlaakith

Almost as a requirement of the race, virtually all githyanki are loyal to the lich queen of their kind, Vlaakith. To refuse fealty to Vlaakith is seen by the githyanki as treason to Gith and everything she stood for, meaning that any such rebel githyanki that fails to flee will likely be slain by their kind, their soul likely fed to the lich queen’s phylactery. Most githyanki accept Vlaakith’s rule both out of fear of reprimand and loyalty to their liberator’s will, the first in the line of Vlaakith having been chosen by Gith herself. However, Vlaakith has rewarded her subjects’ loyalty in a handful of ways.

From the very beginning, the first Vlaakith’s assistance was vital in the winning of Gith’s war against the mind flayers. In the conflict’s later stages, when victory was still far from certain, Gith and Vlaakith descended into the Nine Hells to beseech Tiamat, goddess of evil dragons, for aid. Gith never returned from the excursion, but her second-in-command did, accompanied by a flight of red dragons. To this day, a selection of red dragons spend their youth as the mounts of githyanki, growing slowly and accumulating treasure from raids in exchange for helping the most elite knights under the current Vlaakith’s rule.

As well as the chance of establishing a bond with a fearsome red dragon steed, a knighthood from Vlaakith, an honour given only to the most powerful, successful, and loyal githyanki raiders, also grants another capability. Once knighted by Vlaakith, a githyanki warrior becomes capable of unlocking a unique part of their psychic makeup. With a few decades of mental training, the warrior becomes capable of psychically manifesting a unique weapon, a silver sword.

Each one a unique blade that reflects the mental landscape of its creator, the silver swords serve as both a githyanki knight’s primary weapon and badge of office, distinguishing her as a direct enforcer of Vlaakith’s will to be respected and obeyed by the common raider. In combat, a silver sword in the hands of its creator is a powerful arcane weapon, not only cutting with supernatural power but also exerting its wielder’s will as a psychic impression, making the sword devastating against body, mind, and soul alike. A githyanki silver blade is also one of the few things capable of severing the silver cord of an astrally projected foe, breaking the link to their mortal body, effectively killing them instantly.

Thanks to the great cultural and societal impact of a githyanki’s silver sword, the race does not tolerate their misuse by those of other races or who recind their loyalty to the queen that granted the weapon to them, with githyanki hit squads being sent out to slay the unworthy sap and bring the weapon back, either to its rightful owner or to Vlaakith.

There is one final reward that Vlaakith offers to her greatest warriors, to those who have served her the longest and know her the most intimately. The exact nature of this final reward is unknown, for Vlaakith has censored the matter with a powerful arcane taboo. Anyone who learns the secret of Vlaakith’s reward, whom she doesn’t see as worthy, is utterly destroyed by the forbidden knowledge.

Sex and Sexuality Among Githyanki

Though functionally immortal on the Astral Plane, a githyanki will age normally on every excursion and raid she performs on another plane, and no matter where she is, she will remain just as vulnerable to death by violence or mishap as any other mortal. As such, to avoid being utterly destroyed by the attrition of constant raids, the Githyanki must breed. However, if the githyanki bred at their natural rate, their population would grow explosively, swiftly getting out of their queen’s control. To prevent this from happening, Vlaakith employs rigid order and the nature of the Astral Plane itself.

Sex is common among githyanki. Being one of the few activities aside from violence that they do not get bored of over the centuries, the githyanki fuck in all manner of places and ways with all manner of individuals. Githyanki will fuck githyanki friends and strangers as part of ordinary social interactions. They will hunt and rape stranded slaves for sport, and then fight to rape each other in a show of power. Fetishes of all kinds will be explored, and the concept of shame relating to them will vanish. Even Vlaakith seems to do nothing to prevent or restrain the debauchery of her people, though she rarely participates herself, perhaps thanks to her undead nature.

With sex being so widespread, pregnancy is common. However, while impregnation can take place in the Astral Plane, pregnancy will pause while there. As a result, the pregnant githyanki will show virtually no sign of her pregnancy for months, years, or even centuries, depending on how often she finds herself on a plane besides the Astral. Even after spending a month or two outside the Astral Plane, the githyanki can simply birth her egg and thus be rid of the burden. The egg can then be transferred to a storehouse on the Astral Plane, where it neither develops nor deteriorates.

Eventually, Vlaakith will decide that the githyanki population needs bolstering, and so a number of eggs she deems appropriate will be taken out of the Astral Plane to an extraplanar crèche. These crèches are normally situated on the Material Plane, far off the beaten track, to avoid the notice of natives. They are normally staffed by a rotating array of githyanki who are close to birth or have recently laid so that their breast milk can be fed to the babies. These guardians defend the crèche fiercely, and when the eggs hatch, they take it upon themselves to train the offspring as warriors and indoctrinate them into the worship of Vlaakith. Once the githyanki children have become young adults at around the age of eighteen, they are allowed into the Astral Plane, where they will be brought to Vlaakith in order to swear fealty to her.

Since a githyanki may hatch years, decades, or even centuries after their mother birthed their egg, most githyanki have no knowledge of who their parents are, with only particularly high-ranking githyanki bothering to keep track of their eggs once laid for nepotistic reasons, guiding their own offspring to greatness. As a result, githyanki have little concept of family and mostly owe their loyalty to their superiors and their brood-mates, the githyanki they hatched alongside, who will normally go on to form their fighting unit in adulthood.

Men to Githyanki

As a sexually liberated race, it is not unusual for Githyanki women to become interested in male creatures. Every now and then, a githyanki raid will bring back among its treasures a male animal, such as a farm’s stallion or bull, for the express purpose of getting to fuck its bestial cock. When it comes to fucking humanoid men, many githyanki would be similarly interested in fucking if it were not for their sense of superiority and concern for a man’s intentions.

Githyanki know that other races don’t take kindly to their raiding lifestyle and that many who call themselves heroes, including many men of moral nature, will take steps to stop them or try to turn them away from the path Vlaakith set for them. Men who are similarly wicked to them often have their own schemes, typically also including the subversion of a githyanki woman’s loyalties, though he aims to shift them towards himself rather than the greater good. Thanks to the greatness that githyanki paint themselves in and the deep-rooted loyalty they have instilled in them for their lich queen, being lectured or dominated by a non-githyanki man is something that a githyanki warrior cannot take lying down.

Some githyanki see the difficulties in making a man compliant to her dark mentality and are insulted, leading to an often-murderous hatred of men for being so difficult to fuck compared to male beasts. Other githyanki see the dominating nature of most men as a challenge, urging her to try and twist them to her way of thinking, or at least dominate him enough that she can fuck him without having to be exposed to his attempts to change her.

Men can also be born among the githyanki, though not often, even when compared to the githzerai. Some say that Vlaakith uses magic to determine which eggs will hatch into males and holds most of them back, either because she wants only a specific number of living males at a time or because she is saving those rare male eggs for a time in the future when she wishes to hatch an army of githyanki men for one reason or another.

Regardless of the truth, a few male eggs do find their way out of the Astral Plane from time to time, letting the male hatch. For the githyanki, males of their kind are somewhat of a mixed bag. On the one hand, a male githyanki is a man whom they can respect as a member of their kind, usually letting female githyanki fuck him with little moral conflict. On the other hand, githyanki males, like most humanoid men, go through a rather long period of restlessness, which makes it hard for them to accept their place in the strict society of the githyanki and increases their desire to wander. In some male githyanki, the urge to leave is so great that they entirely flee githyanki society, living as an astral hermit or finding their way to another plane to live a fugitive’s life.

If a man manages to stay loyal to the core beliefs of the githyanki life, learning to fight, rape, and pillage with such eagerness that he gets Vlaakith’s attention and flies up the ranks. Some say that Vlaakith is particularly slutty for male githyanki, since males under her command receive her final reward much faster than female knights. Some theorise that this makes Vlaakith one of the few women in existence fortunate enough to have a harem of male lovers.

Chapter 131: Githzerai

When her race successfully freed themselves from the tyranny of the mind flayers, Gith and her underlings saw it as fitting for the gith to expand, that it was their rightful place as reality’s saviours to conquer and rule over all. Some gith, however, saw the irony in this scheme: that by becoming planar conquerors, the gith would be walking the same twisted path as their old illithid masters. These gith wanted no part in their liberator’s descent into evil, and, under the leadership of a wise prophet by the name of Zerthimon, this faction fought for their freedom.

The resulting civil war split the gith in two. Though Zerthimon vanished in the conflict, her followers earned their freedom from the githyanki, winning the right to plot their own destiny as the githzerai. Today, the githzerai use their freedom to hone themselves to perfection, explore a diverse range of philosophies, and prepare for the fated day that their prophet will return.

Order in Chaos

In the grand separation of the githzerai from the githyanki, the former knew that they would need a home of significant distance from their rivals, somewhere where they could start anew. With the githyanki taking the Astral Sea, the githzerai went further, looking at the great abundance of the Outer Planes. However, by their very nature, the Outer Planes each have their own underling philosophy, a philosophy that strongly attracts its residents to follow, thus threatening to corrupt the githzerai’s quest to form their own moral stances. All the planes, that is, except for one.

A plane of complete and utter chaos, not swayed by concepts like good or evil, Limbo is a howling maelstrom of anarchy that takes ordered beliefs and destroys them, ripping them up into completely unrecognisable fragmentary nonsense. Seeing the complete lack of moral guidance on the plane, it was in Limbo that the first githzerai chose to settle, deciding that a constant fight to retain a philosophical structure was preferable to having to constantly resist the subtle temptation of alien moralities.

At first glance, the utter lawlessness of Limbo seems to make it utterly intolerable to any ordered mind. On a personal level, however, the Ever-Changing Chaos is survivable thanks to a quirk of the plane. When a focused mind concentrates on the raw chaos-stuff of Limbo, they can, through will alone, influence the shape and nature of the matter into any form they desire. With generations of practice in this art, the githzerai collectively will monasteries, barracks, and even whole cities into existence through pure thought, creating islands of stability in Limbo’s chaotic sea.

Of course, the maintenance of these mental structures depends on great and constant cognitive effort. As a result, the githzerai have trained their mental faculties to an ordered pinnacle and are able to keep their homes stable by meditating on their philosophies for days at a time, even while performing other actions.

Despite how it may look to an outsider, githzerai society is one of multiple differing and sometimes conflicting ideas on how one should live and perceive the world, though it often has themes of self-discipline and awareness. Still, githzerai of differing opinions tend to remain rather harmonious; after all, the whole point of their kind’s separation from the githyanki was to gain the freedom to explore new ways to be. Githzerai of the same or similar philosophies tend to form monasteries together in order to further pursue their truth, while those of differing opinions test their beliefs not through conflict but through measured debate.

Psionic Warriors

Though rarely violent among each other, the githzerai are not foolish enough to leave themselves completely undefended. Limbo is a hostile environment, home to dangerous monsters like the aberrant salad. The githzerai must also be ready to repulse attacks from their old rivals, the githyanki, and their hated foes, the mind flayers. In response to these many dangers, the githzerai have maintained and cultivated their warrior roots, creating a culture of esteemed combatants.

Combining their cultural need for mental discipline, their natural psychic capabilities, and the need for personal defence, the githzerai reject the traditional arts of war in favour of martial arts, becoming what most people know as monks. Usually eschewing weapons, the githzerai train their bare hands to be potentially deadly, transmitting not only disproportionate force but also outbursts of psychic ferocity. Though without restrictive armour, the precision and awareness of a githzerai monk let them dodge and deflect even the swiftest blows, a defence supplemented by psychically generated barriers.

With most all githzerai trained in martial arts to some degree, there is a bevy of varied combat styles that have been perfected over generations among them. So well-known and impressive is the array of githzerai martial arts that many monks of other races actively seek out the githzerai for tutorship, making great efforts to cross the planes to find them.

While the githzerai will accept and even aid visitors on their path to enlightenment, the race is generally isolationist. Only sometimes do githzerai reach out to spread their philosophy to other races, building monasteries and outposts on other planes, mostly the Material Plane. Another draw for the githzerai is their lasting enmity for the mind flayers who enslaved their ancestors. Sometimes, the growing resentment in the hearts of the githzerai prompts them to form a rrakkma, a specially ordained illithid hunting party, honour bound not to return to its monastery until they have killed a number of mind flayers equal to the party’s number.

Sex and Sexuality Among Githzerai

Diverse and varied, most githzerai philosophies have something unique to say about sex, relationships, and childrearing. Still, there are several commonalities that most githzerai share. Generally, githzerai are rather restrained with their emotions, even romantic bonds. When githzerai form pairs, the union is typically one of deep respect for one another, with love and attraction being a secondary necessity.

Most githzerai treat sex with a rather sombre seriousness. Some consider sex a vital aspect of mental fulfilment that should be experienced for the sake of completeness, sometimes to the point of sex being a common activity between members of the order. Others think of sex as a materialistic distraction from psychic perfection, thus praising periods of celibacy or a complete refrainment from sex with the exception of what’s necessary for the purposes of reproduction.

Like any gith, pregnancy is only a minimal hassle for a githzerai, with the egg being born after only a month or two. Once the egg is laid, it is kept in a warm, secure chamber in the parent’s home, often in a communal hatchery, so multiple githzerai parents can cooperate to look after their eggs.

Most githzerai go on to raise their children communally, either entirely with the children raised by the monastery as a whole or partially with parents taking direct care of their own offspring and with collective formal teaching under professional teachers, historians, and instructors. Most of the time, thanks to its pervasiveness, most young githzerai adopt their order’s philosophy, but most githzerai support curiosity and mental exploration. Many young githzerai have come up with revolutionary ideas that help guide their order. In cases where the beliefs of a young githzerai and her order are irreconcilable, she normally heads off to find or found another order more in line with her philosophy upon adulthood.

Men to Githzerai

Like their approaches to sex itself, the githzerai are also varied in their opinions of men and their sexual proficiencies. Though few githzerai are truly aggressive towards men for their masculinity alone, many consider the sexual proclivities of men to be a sign of excessive attachment to their baser, animalistic state, making males inferior in the pursuit of psychic and philosophical perfection. These githzerai often look down on men with a sense of superiority and occasional pity. Others consider the man’s lust a possible contagion that may inhibit their own ability to focus on non-carnal activities, thus driving them to try and repel or avoid them.

Other githzerai have a more favourable view of sex as a whole, seeing it not as a regressive necessity of mortal life but as an ultimate expression of one’s emotions and spirits that should be welcomed and experienced to the fullest. These sexual sects tend to be far more accepting of men, appreciating them for their ability to fuck with such raw natural talent and seeking to probe them for insights gained through a life of frequent and varied sexual encounters. However, most githzerai follow a philosophy that is more moderate on the scale between chastity and sexual liberation, making a man’s acceptance far more dependent on how he conforms to a sect’s other beliefs than his masculinity alone. Regardless of sexual desire, however, most githzerai have a level of self-respect that means that they will not tolerate disparagement or disrespect from a man, and they will fight before allowing themselves to be subjugated by him.

The githzerai’s reaction to a man being born among their own kind also varies by belief. In sex-neutral or positive denominations, the birth of a male githzerai often prompts a philosophical shift in support of greater sexual activity and fertility as more and more meditations and practices come to involve fucking their male member. Still, a githzerai man isn’t left to simply languish at the core of a harem. Despite his sex, a githzerai man is still subjected to the same rigorous training in martial arts and psychic discipline. When a male githzerai reaches adulthood, his male wandering instinct often spurs him to leave his home for a time, either on a rrakkma with some companions or simply to proselytise, spreading his beliefs on sexuality to other githzerai and possibly to other races too if he finds his way out of Limbo.

When a man is born into an anti-sexual order of githzerai, his hatching is often an occasion of great concern. Believing that he is naturally stunted in his psychic growth by his sex and risking spreading his incapability by his presence, these men are normally expelled from their birth order upon hatching. Some are given over to orders more accepting of men, allowing them to live a fairly normal life for a githzerai man. Sometimes, however, the order of his birth is so convinced of his incapability of attaining discipline that they refuse to burden others of their kind with him even if they would accept, instead depositing him among other races, such as humans, on the Material Plane. Separated from their race and culture, such men often grow up confused about what they are and desperate to find out where they came from. Ironically, this often eventually leads a man back to Limbo, sometimes even to the very sect that abandoned him.

Chapter 132: Gnoll

Looking for all the world to be a race of bipedal hyenas, gnolls are in fact far worse than what their savage appearance suggests. With the blood of demons within them, gnolls arm themselves with weapons picked off of slain foes and careen across the land in search of victims to kill. While hobgoblins go marching out to expand their territory and orcs may raid for loot, gnolls attack for the sake of violence and violence alone, killing for the sheer pleasure of it and to honour their demonic roots.

Scourge of Yeenoghu

Some time long in the distant past, a series of cursed events, now forgotten to time, led to Yeenoghu the demonic Lady of Savagery, setting foot upon the Material Plane. A huge, hyena-headed demon lord, armed with a vicious triple flail, a rending set of teeth, and a mind filled with naught but bloodlust, Yeenoghu’s immediate response to being wrought from the Abyss and landed in the mortal realm was to go on a murderous rampage.

Ripping and tearing her way through any living thing she came across, the pathway that was left in the demon lord’s wake was defiled, bloody, and littered with corpses that even most animals refused to touch. There was, however, one species that didn’t hesitate to gorge themselves on the remains Yeenoghu left behind, packs of roaming hyenas that scavenged on the demon-tainted meat. Eventually, heroic forces banded together to drive Yeenoghu back into the Abyss. The damage, however, was done.

Every hyena that had feasted on the Lady of Savagery’s kills became bloated and lethargic. Suddenly, one by one, the beast burst, with their new, humanoid, demon-addled forms crawling out of their remains. Thus were the first gnolls born, forever to scourge the Material Plane.

Compared to other humanoid races, even typically evil and savage ones like orcs, gnolls are completely unilateral in their wickedness. While an orc, for example, is shaped by her culture and the dictates of the orc deities to perform evil acts, she is ultimately her own person with free will, possibly able to reject the evil of her upbringing if given the right circumstances. A gnoll on the other hand, doesn’t just live in a “culture” (for lack of a better word) shaped by and worshipful of Yeenoghu’s evil, she is instilled with it to her very core. For the most part, gnolls are less so people, and more mortal mouthpieces for Yeenoghu’s savagery, with very little truly free will.

Where the typical orc suppresses emotions like compassion and mercy, gnolls simply lack the concepts and cannot be compelled in any way to feel them. Like a demon in furry mortal skin, gnolls refuse to ally with most other mortals, feel naught but ecstasy when they kill, and when they run out of foes to fight, they remorselessly turn on their sisters in arms.

Thrill of Slaughter

When gnoll packs attack, they seek not tactical advantages or greater resources but to kill as many victims as they physically can, ideally with as little risk of being killed themselves in return. As such, gnolls tend to pick easy targets. Knights and nobles holed in a fortified keep generally suffer little from the ravages of a passing gnoll band, but the villages, homesteads, and travellers on the road will be massacred. If a band of gnolls do find a dangerous foe among their helpless victims, they attempt to cut the combatant off from any allies and then overwhelm them with numbers and ferocity.

Aside from a predilection towards targeting the weak, gnolls are generally limited in their tactical knowledge. What passes for order in a gnoll pack generally constitutes one gnoll of notable strength and cunning who maintains authority over the pack and directs her allies’ bloodlust in the most potent direction through a combination of brutality and contagious battle madness. These leaders, typically referred to by other races as pack lords or, in the case of particularly powerful demonically infused gnolls, flinds, also use their power to get the best food, equipment, and captives, whom they sacrifice to Yeenoghu in hopes of further demonic boons.

Most gnolls carry with them bows or other ranged weapons that they cobbled together or scavenged from slaughtered foes. Most gnolls use these weapons to shoot fleeing prey in the back rather than to soften up foes that stand their ground. As competent at archery as gnolls can be, most prefer to get in close to their enemies, tearing them apart with stolen or repurposed weaponry, along with their teet. So powerful is the joy gnolls feel at taking innocent lives that they can go into a state of completely mindless rampaging, biting, and tearing at their foes, even to the point where they simply cannot stop.

Some ruthless and ultimately foolish individuals have thought in the past to utilise the ravenous hunger for violence in the pit of every gnoll’s gut, recruiting or directing a pack to slay enemies as part of a more stable villain’s grand plan. Unfortunately for these warmongers, gnolls are not ones to be easily controlled by anyone not under the direct authority of their lady, Yeenoghu. While a significant loss in numbers or great personal injury can prompt a gnoll pack to flee a battle, controlling them to go any further against the will of Yeenoghu is nigh impossible. A band of gnolls faced with the choice to follow the orders of one unaffiliated with Yeenoghu or die will typically endeavour to cause as much bloodshed as possible as they’re brought down. If one does seem to gain a gnoll’s obedience, that gnoll is likely one of greater cunning than normal who has some plot in her vile mind that will end with it tearing out her so-called master’s throat.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gnolls

Despite their otherwise bestial nature, female gnolls do not mate with each other all that often. Gnolls will sometimes rape victims that they’re keeping alive for later sacrifice and are also seen to occasionally force themselves on normal hyenas, who seem to instinctually submit to this sexual aggression; however, other gnolls are normally too violent to try and fuck, with individual pack members wisely not trusting their fellow gnolls to comply with sex at all unless their difference in strength is such that she can completely physically dominate her.

Even when gnolls do mate, they cannot produce more of their kind, not directly at least. Despite the differences in mind and body, the womb of a gnoll is practically identical to that of an ordinary hyena. This not only means that female gnolls and hyenas are sexually compatible, with most cross-breeding between the two involving the former impregnating the latter, but if a gnoll does get pregnant, she will give birth to a litter of two or so ordinary hyena cubs, completely indistinguishable from ordinary hyenas when they grow up, lacking any sign of demonic taint. Being so utterly focused on violence, gnolls make poor mothers to their offspring, so they usually abandon any cubs to the care of any hyenas that follow the pack around.

To turn the ordinary animals that follow them around into reinforcements for their band, gnolls need a pack member with one particular form of blessing. When a pack of gnolls succeeds in a major massacre, they pause their trail of destruction for a while to celebrate their victory with an array of dark rituals, offerings of flesh, and the sacrifice of any initial survivors to Yeenoghu. If the Demon Princess of Gnolls is pleased by her spawn’s butchery, she may bind one of their number to a vicious demonic spirit.

Rendered more demon than gnoll, these so-called fangs of Yeenoghu swell in strength and resilience, while their minds revert to an even more primal state, causing them to eschew weapons in favour of their teeth and claws. More than simply increasing in power, the demonic influence of a fang of Yeenoghu taints the meat of whatever creature they kill. Much like Yeenoghu at the genesis of the gnolls, any hyena that consumes fang-tainted flesh undergoes a rapid transformation. In mere hours, the hyena’s body will bloat before a fully grown adult gnoll burst out in a shower of viscera.

Men to Gnolls

Having no concept of trust or affection, the ability of men to fuck women of so many levels of power so frequently registers to the gnoll mind as a sign of incredible strength and dominance. As such, gnolls are usually nervous around men. This discomfort does not mean that a man can scare gnolls off with his cock alone, however. Like with other enemies they consider dangerous, gnolls attempt to separate a man from his allies, picking off weaker-looking companions before overwhelming him with numbers.

Though gnolls are known to sometimes rape captives, it is unknown if this behaviour would extend to men. A man stupid enough to try to become a gnoll’s captive is probably more likely to be tortured, dismembered, and sacrificed to Yeenoghu for his trouble. Gnolls also don’t understand the concept of kindness or consent enough to be seduced by traditional means, even in the rare circumstance that the gnoll speaks a language a man is likely to know.

As such, the only real way for a man to fuck a gnoll is to beat her down and rape her. One should be careful when fucking a gnoll in this way, however, for even at the edge between life and death, a gnoll tends to viciously bite and claw at men trying to fuck her unless she is fully restrained. Like when she’s impregnated normally, a gnoll successfully knocked up by a man will give birth to a hyena. If this hyena is taken away from its mother’s influence and isn’t fed any demon-tainted flesh, it will grow up to be a completely normal instance of its kind.

Just like any other hyena, a male hyena who happens to eat the flesh of something killed by a fang of Yeenoghu will undergo a gory transformation into a gnoll. In this way, male gnolls can be "born." However, female gnolls are often threatened by the dominance a male gnoll shows when he attempts to rape everything he can. Therefore, unless a male gnoll is able to gain power over most of his pack with speed after his transformation, he will likely be killed by his fellow gnolls. If a male gnoll does get the power to dominate his pack as a pack lord or a flind, he can usher in a new reign of terror where he rampages across the land, his sexually dominated females in tow, looking for new cunts to destroy before killing.

Non-gnoll, non-hyena creatures that are impregnated by such dominant gnoll males and survive tend to give birth to offspring with a clear streak of Yeenoghu’s demonic influence. Animals tend to be born unusually aggressive and carnivorous for their kind; humanoids, meanwhile, often have short tempers and violent impulses. While some learn to control these emotions, others fall in with cults to Yeenoghu.

Chapter 133: Gnome, Deep (Svirfneblin)

Many gnomes find comfort underground. In general, most gnomes prefer to live in dug-out burrows and can traipse around in caves quite happily thanks to their small stature and low-light vision. Still, most gnomes are happy to and, in fact, enjoy spending time up on the surface, whether that is out in nature or in the city. There is, however, one subrace of gnomes that long ago found their way deep underground. Known to most races as deep gnomes, svirfneblin are tough, hardy gnomes, identified by their stone-coloured skin and short, greyish hair. Making their home deep in the Underdark, an alien and perilous environment, the deep gnomes survive not by power but by stealth, cunning, and cooperation in their hidden enclaves, large gatherings that can number hundreds of individuals, hidden right under the noses of the Underdark’s monsters and crueller peoples such as the duergar and drow.

Kind but Cautious

For many racial offshoots native to the Underdark, such as the aforementioned duergar and drow, their decent underground came at the tail end of a major rift within their race or a forcible division. As far as scholars can tell, however, the svirfneblin suffered no such exile. Despite their differences, deep gnomes have and generally always have had a rather cordial relationship with the rest of gnomekind, if a little distant, thanks to the miles of earth and stone that separate them.

Exactly how the svirfneblin found their way into the Underdark is not known for certain. However, one widely held belief points to one thing that, compared to the surface, the Underdark boasts in great profusion: gems. Most gnomes have a fondness for gemstones, happily gathering private collections, incorporating them into subtle but elegant jewellery, and bejewelling their personal possessions. Many communities of surface gnomes, particularly rock gnomes, crop up around gem mines, but these scratches in the earth are essentially stale in comparison to the sheer productivity the average svirfneblin mining operation generates.

As the theory goes, therefore, the ancestral svirfneblin were not abducted by underground slavers or exiled by their kin, but instead trekked down the Underdark willingly, knowingly facing the dangers of the darkness for the promise of treasures and wonders galore. Some say that this journey was guided by Callarduran Smoothhands, the gnomish goddess of mining and stonework, often seen by deep gnomes as their patron deity.

It is perhaps due to the wilful and amicable decent of the deep gnomes that they are also one of the few races to have resisted the temptations of evil. Though the high-pressure nature of life in the Underdark requires a level of strictness in the daily life of svirfneblin, most deep gnome settlements work towards the betterment of all their members. Individual deep gnomes share their prosperity and aid each other in times of strife, with the svifneblin living to prove that even in the darkness of the Underdark, being clever and kind can match or even overwhelm those that would choose to be selfish and cruel.

Deep gnomes also know the immense value of cooperation. Few svirfneblin are truly out for themselves, and fewer still would refuse aid from a trusted ally. As well as one another, deep gnomes also enjoy a particularly powerful alliance. Perhaps due to the earthy nature of their primary deity, most enclaves of deep gnomes have friendly relations with earth elementals, including more derived types such as galeb duhr and xorns. These elemental companions help the small svirfneblin in combat and with heavy lifting, often in exchange for little save their continued cordiality and an occasional gift of gems.

Still, the deep gnomes are no fools. Wisdom and painful experience have taught the race that in the Underdark, blind trust is harshly punished. As such, the average svirfneblin seems to lack the curiosity of other gnomes, approaching the strange and unfamiliar with suspicion and disfavour, particularly if it seems related to things that have historically caused the deep gnomes harm, namely the cruel and abusive drow. This can lead to travellers hoping for respite from the Underdark’s horrors receiving a rather cold shoulder from the svirfneblin, if the deep gnomes even let themselves be noticed at all. However, if one manages to gain the trust of the deep gnomes, one will find all the warmth, kindness, and curiosity that gnomes are known for.

Standardised Breast Roles

Thanks to the ever-present danger of the Underdark and the utmost importance of cooperation to their survival, the svirfneblin have a firm format of operations that they live by. From the point where a deep gnome is old enough to reasonably do so, they are expected, almost to the point of total obligation, to contribute to the survival of their clan in a way specifically dictated by the expectations of their kind’s culture. Technically, a deep gnome is at liberty to reject the set expectations put upon her by society in favour of a different set. In practice, however, such defiance is not performed lightly, and most such misfits choose to strike out alone as adventurers rather than upset the status quo back home.

One of the most immediately obvious separations of social responsibilities is dictated by one particular physical division. In a hauntingly similar manner to their hatted enemies, the drow, female svirfneblin have a pretty even split between two distinct breast shapes, half having spherical full breasts and the other half possessing conical half breasts. Unlike the drow, however, one breast shape among the deep gnomes does not signify superiority over gnomes with the other, instead suggesting where any given svirfneblin’s duties lie.

In general, full-breasted deep gnomes are expected to take up duties whose main focus remains within the bounds of their clan’s enclave, such as managing logistics and supplies, enforcing the clan’s laws, crafting tools and weapons, and both constructing and maintaining their hidden homes. The role of half-breasted deep gnomes, meanwhile, extends outside the borders of their home. Typically, it is the half-breasted gnomes who mine gems, hunt and forage for food, and deal with outsiders who encroach on their clan’s territory through both diplomacy and guerrilla warfare.

This division of labour extends all the way up to svirfneblin leadership. Though there are sometimes complications such as counsels and the like, most deep gnome enclaves are led by two queens, one with half breasts and the other with full breasts. These queens are rarely married to one another, and neither is superior to the other; instead, their authority lies in areas related to the shape of their tits. The half-breasted queen is in charge of external affairs, while her full-breasted counterpart has the ultimate authority on more local matters.

Generally, deep gnomes respect one another, regardless of their breast shape, but the expectations of their culture can lead to unfortunate misunderstandings, particularly when dealing with other races. A deep gnome adventuring away from home may immediately assume that the individual with pointier tits is the one to talk about concerning a bounty for monsters hunted outside of town. Meanwhile, a particularly round-breasted adventurer who deals with a svirfneblin enclave may receive voices of concern as to what led her so far from her home, where she “should” be.

Sex and Sexuality Among Deep Gnomes

Despite the rigid nature of deep gnome society, the svirfneblin generally refuse to tightly restrict matters of love, attraction, and family. As such, deep gnomes are generally free to pursue romance in any way they see fit. Like most gnomes, love between svirfneblin generally starts out as an extreme curiosity with one another. As the mutually attracted deep gnomes spend more and more time working and quietly socialising with one another, they may eventually choose to solidify their romantic bond by formally marrying.

Most marriages between svirfneblin form couples, but larger polycules are not unheard of and are rarely frowned upon. Deep gnomes also don’t have to worry about the shape of their breasts when picking a wife or wives. While some svirfneblin have a particular attraction to those with the same or the opposite tit shape to theirs, there is no societal pressure to pick a spouse with particular boobs.

When svirfneblin have sufficient trust in one another, normally once they have gotten married, they may begin to have sex. Perhaps due to the omnipresent risks involved with drawing attention in the Underdark, deep gnomes are generally rather quiet lovers who don’t experiment in the bedroom nearly as much as their surface cousins are known to. Still, deep gnomes show themselves to be very capable of pleasing one another through wrote practice and seem to have no more trouble breeding than any other kind of gnome.

Like most gnomes, svirfneblin have fairly low fertility. It is therefore unlikely for a deep gnome couple to have more than six children in their lifetime, even if they lived to the full extent. Thanks to the difficulties involved in travelling long distances during a gnome’s thirteen-month pregnancy, it is generally seen as a full-breasted svirfneblin’s duty to carry the baby if one is involved in the reproductive effort, so that she can continue to perform some of her local roles during. Interestingly, breast shape doesn’t seem to be a wholly heritable trait in deep gnomes; even if both her parents are of the same breast type, a svirfneblin child is still equally likely to be born full or half-breasted.

Thanks to their slow birthrate and the dangers of their environment, svirfneblin parents are incredibly protective of their children, along with the community at large. Despite this, deep gnomes have a particularly loose definition of when adulthood begins, generally being when the individual properly settles into a job that they will likely perform for the rest of their lives. Most of the time, this ends up being around forty, the same age most surface gnomes consider adulthood.

Men to Deep Gnomes

In general, deep gnomes keep themselves hidden from passing men. This is not out of any particular hatred for men; indeed, most svirfneblin are curious and possibly even favourable towards men. Instead, it is a matter of simple self-preservation. Svirfneblin know that men tend to draw attention wherever they go, and, in the Underdark at least, that attention is seldom good. Drow seeking to bring his head to their misandrist goddess, duergar who wish to erase his threat to their pure bloodline, and even more alien beings whose interest in him is inscrutable, most things that follow in a man’s wake underground have the potential to temporarily divert and devastate a deep gnome enclave should they reveal themselves to him. Equally, unfamiliar men can be arrogant and cruel, even evil, and for all the deep gnomes know, he may seek to rape and subjugate them if he catches wind of their presence.

Still, deep gnomes are usually companionate people under their tough exterior. A man who lingers in svirfneblin territory for long enough without causing trouble or who is clearly in need of aid will likely be met by the deep gnomes eventually. Though usually terse and distant to start with, most deep gnomes will eventually open up to a man who continues to prove pleasant, especially if he seeks to help out. When gaining trust in a man, a female deep gnome can swiftly become openly curious about his masculinity, progressing towards becoming surprisingly flirtatious, until finally opening up completely with a level of lewdness the svirfneblin otherwise rarely express, happily fucking the man for the sake of discovery and their own lust.

When a man is born among their own number, svirfneblin can entirely skip the first suspicious stages by virtue of the boy being one of them. In terms of his role in svirfneblin society, a man is usually considered a gift and sign from Callarduran Smoothhands, announcing that it is time for the enclave to expand into new territories, thus leaving the duty of the man clear: breed as many svirfneblin women as he can to create the expanding workforce needed to support the expanded territorial claim. This is a role most male deep gnomes take to excellently, at least in their youth.

Like most male humanoids, deep gnome men eventually start to feel an instinct that draws them away from the routine and safety of their enclave, calling them out into the wider world. Eventually giving in to this natural itch, male svirfneblin often become adventurers of various kinds. Some choose to roam the Underdark, overcoming and fucking all the hostile races and mysterious monsters that lurk in the shadows, besting them with their gnomish cunning. Others find their way up to the surface, where their uniqueness combined with a healthy dah of gnomish wit makes them surprisingly seductive to the strange surface women they encounter.

Chapter 134: Goblin

Seen by many as the prototypical face of the goblinoid peoples, most goblins are poor representatives of the races that fall under that distinction. Where bugbears are brutal and cunning and hobgoblins are ruthlessly tactical, the average goblin is a blackhearted, spineless bully who picks on those she can get away with and slavishly obeys anyone who threatens her. The average goblin is short, four feet tall at the most, with any fat she has being fiercely concentrated in her tits, ass, and thighs, giving the rest of her body a wiry, disproportionate build. Their skin can be one of several shades of yellow or green, while their hair tends to be black or brown, and their eyes are dark like a rat’s.

Cruel Pessimists

Goblins know that they are weak, and as a result, they generally hold a fierce hatred for all beings besides themselves. Typical interactions between goblins will involve shrieking, arguments, insults, and tenacious bullying. When a goblin interacts with people of other races, they almost always take their typical vindictiveness to the extreme, being blunt, mocking, and otherwise rude. Even those few goblins that manage to overcome their culture’s predilections and decide to be good typically do so in an abrasive, largely unpleasant way, often testing the patience of any ally they end up with.

The reason for all this unpleasantness is due to one belief that virtually all goblins share: that life is inherently unfair to their kind. A goblin assumes the worst in all situations, and ideas such as hope and fairness are mocked derisively. Goblins believe that opportunities will be snatched away from them if they hesitate for even a moment, thus leading to a level of impulsivity. If the average goblin thinks they can get away with it, they will steal an item before they’ve even figured out what to do with it. If they see a way to put down somebody who may eventually become a rival, they will do so. If one leader’s power seems to be waning in favour of somebody new, most goblins will jump ship without a second thought.

Goblins are by far at their worst, however, when they succeed. When a goblin wins or else gains even the smallest iota of power over anyone or anything, it usually goes to their head immediately. Most goblins have no empathy for the disadvantaged, simply being overjoyed that it is not them suffering this time and that it is finally time for them to be the ones pushing others around. Many goblin tribes build traps, ostensibly to catch prey to eat, but if they attain humanoid prisoners, they will typically gloat and caper with glee, forcing the prisoners to do all the menial tasks that would normally be foisted on their tribe’s lowest rung, finally giving the lowliest goblins a taste of power.

It is not mere misfortune that the goblins blame for their grim lot in life, however. The suffering of the goblins dates back to a far more concrete calamity. Once, long ago, before the goblins were lumped in with the other goblinoid races, the goblins had their own pantheon of goblin goddesses. What exactly this pantheon was like, however, is lost, for the goblin pantheon was assaulted and destroyed by Maglubiyet, the tyrant goddess of the goblinoid pantheon. Most of the goblin goddesses were slain by Maglubiyet’s axe and the flames from her eyes; those that survived were pressed into Maglubiyet’s new pantheon as her divine servants.

As such, in one single act of divine conquest, the soul of every goblin from then on was enslaved. Without the direct intercedence of another goddess, a mercy few goblins receive, any goblin who dies violently has their soul automatically sent to Archeon, where they are pressed into Maglubiyet’s army to fight her wars forever. This “honour” is one that few goblins wish to receive, and as such, goblins are generally even more afraid to die than other races. In exchange for their own lives, a goblin will usually perform any task demanded of them, serve any master, and betray allies without a second thought.

Though filled with self-loathing for their miserable lives, goblins generally hate other races more, particularly elves and dwarves, whom the goblins envy for their loving pantheons. While direct assaults are rare unless the goblins are driven forward by spears to their backs, goblins will go about causing problems and seeking to bring harm to other races, generally in stealthy or indirect ways. As mentioned, goblins will steal whenever they don’t feel in danger of being caught. They do this not only for their own benefit but also for the knowledge of the dismay their robberies will bring their victims. Other times, goblins will intentionally make paths dangerous for other people, building and then abandoning traps in caves and forests, or provoking monsters into rampaging towards civilisation.

Despicable Hierarchies

Knowing that the threat they can exert on others increases in greater numbers, goblins generally gather in tribes or gangs. However, even when ostensibly cooperating for mutual benefit, most goblins cannot help but for strive for power amongst each other. The general philosophy of goblins is that only those that hold the whip can escape its lash. This therefore perpetuates a rigid power hierarchy of abuse being handed down the ranks. These ranks are generally defined by skills, jealously guarded and kept within familial lines to prevent lesser goblins from entertaining any hope of upward mobility. This arrangement normally creates around four castes in goblin society.

At the very bottom are the goblins simply called bitches by their peers. These goblins consist of the incapable or stupid goblins of the tribe, as well as those who have suffered more abuse than their will can take, making them entirely incapable of standing up for themselves. Generally, thanks to how fiercely knowledge of even basic skills is reserved, just over a third of all goblins become bitches. As the lowest rung on the ladder, bitches are given the most simple, undesirable of tasks, such as cleaning, and both rising and bearing the tribe’s children, as well receiving the majority of abuse from the rest of the tribe. Bitches only ever receive a modicum of power when the tribe attains slaves, at which point the bitches get to oversee and torment the slaves as they do what is normally bitch work.

One step above a bitch is a gatherer. As well as gathering food like mushrooms and wild plants, gatherers are also know how to craft and maintain simple tools and traps. Goblin traps are diverse and often rather effective for their simplicity, from pitfalls to drop nets and snares, goblin traps endeavour to catch potential prey and prisoners alike. Gatherers are also the caste most commonly found stealing from other races. Creeping into town in the dead of night, gatherers are sent by their superiors to “gather” tools and supplies from more prosperous individuals.

Above gatherers are hunters. These goblins essentially serve as their tribe’s soldiery. Though usually rudimentary by the standards of more organised races, hunters earn their place in the tribe by their relatively proficient archery, swordsmanship, and use of any other weapons they or the gatherers manage to scrounge up, in order to kill both potential prey and enemies of the tribe. It is also typically the hunters who know how to tame certain animals, typically various kinds of rats and wolves, the latter of whom may be ridden like a human would a horse.

Hunters also serve to police the lover castes in the name of the lashers, the closest thing goblins have to an aristocracy. Earning their rank by having rare indispensable skills, such as lockpicking and poison brewing, lashers are the unassailable heads of the goblin tribe. Lashers are free to mistreat every goblin below them and answer to nobody but the tribe’s boss, a goblin who has gained complete rulership of the tribe by a combination of strength, skill, guile, and spite.

Sometimes, however, goblins do not rule themselves. Needing only a reasonably regular threat to their lives to keep them in line, many wicked creatures keep goblins around as slaves, lackeys, and grunt soldiers. Common enslavers of goblins include evil humans, ogres, giants, and also the other kinds of goblinoids, bugbears and hobgoblins. There is still generally a boss among the goblins, but in this case the leadership is determined by who can best transmit the real master’s commands, or twist their ear to the goblin’s advantage should the new leader be a dumb brute.

Sex and Sexuality Among Goblins

Having built a society of distrust and inequitable power dynamics, love is a rare, practically non-existent commodity among goblins. Still, goblins feel physical pleasure from sex and must breed frequently to account for the sheer attrition of goblin life. Unfortunately for goblins, pregnancy is particularly unpleasant for them. Averaging three babies at a time, goblins have an incredibly rapid pregnancy lasting only four months. Though this brevity may make a goblin’s pregnancy sound easier, the difficulty is that supporting such a rapid development of three or more babies at once uses massive amounts of a goblin mother’s energy supply, which, combined with the sheer mass of their belly, exhausts her and makes her struggle to perform any significantly demanding tasks.

Like with most things most goblins don’t want to do, goblins tend to pin the rigours of pregnancy on the bitches of their tribe. As well as being mistreated in practically every other way, most goblin bitches are also free to be raped and impregnated by any higher-ranking goblin that so desires to use them. Bitches are then expected to continue performing menial labour and sexually serving her betters throughout her pregnancy and then go on to feed and raise her resultant babies until such a time that a higher-ranked goblin who suspects themselves of being the parent takes the more capable-looking children away to be taught the ways of their class and to forget their mother, seeing her only as the bitch whose cunt they dropped out of. Any goblins not so claimed will generally become bitches by around age eight, assuming they don’t miraculously attain a useful skill.

The exception to this free-for-all breeding system comes in the form of so-called personal bitches. These bitch goblins are selected for their attractiveness, fertility, and obedience by higher-ranking goblins to not only serve them personally but also to fuck them and them alone, guaranteeing that any offspring they birth will be their mistress’. Most lashers have a handful of personal bitches each; particularly prolific hunters may earn one or two; and the boss generally has several personal bitches at her beck and call.

Being a goblin bitch doesn’t just lead to being impregnated, however. It also works the other way around. When a non-bitch goblin gets pregnant, her pregnancy normally severely limits her capabilities. As she becomes more or less useless, a pregnant goblin gets cast all the way down to the bitch caste. Technically, a goblin can return to her former glory after she gives birth and regains her old skills, but most higher-ranking goblins don’t give bitches that chance, fucking them shortly after birth to keep them in a near-constant state of pregnancy. Goblins are often known to go so far as to organise mass rapes of their rivals to get them out of the way in the most humiliating way possible, though a goblin would first have to find cause to justify their rape in order to not appear as a danger to others, often by uncovering some betrayal or another.

Men to Goblins

Short of death, becoming pregnant is one of the most horrifying fates a female goblin can imagine ever having to face. Since men can and do impregnate their enemies with ease, most goblins find the concept of facing a man in battle, or in fact in nearly any situation, terrifying. As a result, most goblins give any man they are unfortunate enough to meet a wide berth, actively fleeing his presence unless violently compelled to face him. However, thanks to the frightening nature of men, the potential bragging rights of killing or enslaving one are huge. A goblin boss, once she’s overcome the shock of a man’s appearance, may start screaming at her subordinates to capture him.

While most goblins will go to great lengths to avoid being fucked by a man, their cowardice usually means that death is a step too far. A goblin who is at a disadvantage against a man and cannot escape will usually do anything to survive, performing sexual services and even carrying his babies. Male adventurers have long noted the tightness and resilience of a goblin's body as well as her swift compliance, though compliance rarely comes with politeness.

While most men’s encounters with goblins are brief, with the man fucking them and then dumping them on the side of the road, men do every now and then take a goblin with them as a local guide combined with a personal fuck toy. Interestingly, a goblin who is fucked frequently by the same man will slowly shift her morality to match or compliment his. This is thought by some male sages to be a result of the goblin’s natural instinct to accept her role as a bitch when fucked by any significantly more powerful mate. The result of this is that, born from these goblins and their children, there are sizable pockets of goblins who are not evil, though this is not to say that being fucked by a man is the only way for a goblin to turn from the path of evil. These goblins tend to move into cities and can have a range of cultures, some remaining worshipful of the man that spawned their lineages, others fiercely trying to distance themselves from being the descendants of a sex toy to forge their own destinies.

Interestingly, it is often, but not always, from these urban goblins that the occasional goblin male is born. The combination of goblin opportunism and the male urge to head out often makes goblin men incredibly unpredictable and wild-natured, often chasing after whatever distraction just showed itself. Meanwhile, the dual fecundity of being both a man and a goblin also allows a male goblin to fuck whole villages of women to pregnant exhaustion, assuming they don’t assume the worst of him and run him out of town.

On the rarer occasion that a male goblin is born among his evil brethren, he may either flee or else use the natural fear men produce among goblins to intimidate his way to the top, quickly claiming the title of boss or goblin king. The tribe of a goblin king is often streamlined by the bitch caste being raised into the castes above it, since all goblins in the tribe swiftly find themselves becoming the personal bitches of the king, with their prior roles becoming secondary. To keep up with his demands, these tribes often become more active in the capture of prisoners, taking greater risks to claim more women and female creatures for their king to breed.

Chapter 135: Golems

Thought by some as the prototypical construct of magical artifice, golems are mighty and unshakably loyal figures constructed of mundane materials, fortified by magics, and animated by the induction of elemental power. Without a will or drive of their own, golems do not plot for their own advancement and will never object to their creator’s commands. They can thus be ordered to perform nearly any physical labour without exhaustion or complaint. Golems can be crafted from all manner of materials; golems of the four most commonly used materials, clay, flesh, iron, and stone, will be discussed in their own chapters, but this chapter will discuss golems as a whole.

Built by the Manual

The construction of a golem, no matter the type, is a complex and expensive process. As well as a sizable base of many costly materials, one looking to create a golem must also be or be in the position to hire a master of the correct crafting profession, be it sculpting, smithing, masonry, or even surgery. With all these pieces in place, one must still attain one final ingredient: a manual of golems, an arcane tome of great rarity made only by the most masterful of spellcasters. Legendary wizards, clerics, and bards are especially well known for penning these tomes.

More than the simple instructional treatise that may be found in the average wizard’s tower or great library, the defining part of a manual of golems is not the directions and diagrams often written within, but the painstaking magical seals encoded into the book’s very pages, making them thrum with barely restrained power, able to injure or even kill those who read it without significant arcane or divine insight.

Trapped within every manual of golems is an elemental, reduced down to a spiritual form. Typically, the elemental chosen for the purpose of making a golem is an earth elemental, its strength and rigidity helping to keep it binding stable when it is inserted into the golem’s body, though of course, some materials bind better to earth elementals than others. Some manuals of golems instead house other types of elementals, though this is usually because the creator had a particular set of unique abilities in mind that they were willing to sacrifice their construct’s stability to introduce.

The rest of a manual of golem’s magic consists of a complicated array of abjurations, enchantments, and transmutations meant to transfer and affix the contained spirit to the medium of a specifically made golem of a particular material. Thanks to this specificity, a given manual of golems, once written, can only be used to create one specific type of golem. Regardless of the overall process, the last step of any golem’s creation is to burn the manual of golems and sprinkle the magically active ashes over the construct’s inert body. As with any constructed being, the golem must be equipped with breasts and a pussy, or this final step will fail to have the desired effect.

As the ashes are applied to an appropriate body, the elemental inhabits the body, acting like a mortal soul. While the elemental grant’s the golem mobility, however, none of the elemental’s mindset, simple as it may be, is inherited. A golem is created as an utterly blank slate, knowing only its creator, the ability to understand that creator’s spoken commands, and its singular directive: follow the commands of its creator.

Built to Last

Despite the great difficulties involved in making a golem, the effort is often rewarded tenfold by what even a single golem can do. Even the weakest of golems can easily drag several tonnes of materials behind them or swiftly overpower even well-trained warriors in combat. When told to kill a target, the golem does so immediately, remorselessly swinging its magically enhanced fists with force enough to cave armour in with the same passiveness it employs when told to carry its creator’s bags or hammer in a nail.

Foes that try to turn the tables on a golem and destroy it are likely hard-pressed to succeed. No mundane force short of an adamantine weapon can so much as scratch a golem’s resilient and mystically abjured body. When it comes to spells, a golem’s abjurations again shield it, granting it an impressive resistance against most spells and a complete immunity to magic that would polymorph or otherwise deform her. Not even guile works on a golem. A golem cannot be tricked, intimidated, or charmed, magically or otherwise, for it simply lacks any mind for these acts to be worked upon. A golem’s cognition, for as far as it exists, is built to comprehend orders and little else. Attempts to reason with or otherwise sway a golem, honestly or not, are futile, for the golem simply doesn’t understand words not phrased as instructions and ignores instructions given by those not listed as permitted commanders.

Golems are also utterly tireless, needing neither sleep, food, nor even air to persist. As a result, a golem can typically be left in a single, rarely visited spot to continue its task perpetually, be it to guard a door, await a certain password, or perpetually operate a mechanism. Once a golem is given an order from its creator, it will follow the order until it is complete or it is told to stop. With its creator or someone given leave to command it around to give instructions, a golem can perform highly intricate tasks, taking corrections from its commander into account as it goes. A golem left to its own devices will perform whatever order it was last given in the most direct manner possible.

Golems are not capable of creativity or flexibility; if there is an obstacle to performing her task or an interloper getting in her way and there is no commander around to help her navigate it, a golem will generally try to smash right through it. Perhaps the only weakness in a golem’s loyalty comes if she is given impossible or conflicting orders, for this puts a strain on the magic that keeps her elemental spirit contained. Normally, a golem is stable enough to simply stand still in the face of such confusion or shift constantly between the incompatible orders, but if battle damage or centuries of time are able to tarnish its resilience, the golem may turn to violence.

Sex and Sexuality Among Golems

As emotionless constructs that don’t act unless commanded to, golems do not feel love, romantic attraction, or sexual desire to any degree. Golems do not seek mates, but with female anatomy to suit the elemental that powers them, they can technically be commanded to have sex. Golems cannot impregnate or get pregnant by any female being, however. Golems also don’t show any signs of feeling physical pleasure, be it from sex or any other activity. As such, most creators only command their golems to fuck for their own pleasure or lewd entertainment.

Generally, sexual use of a golem is performed to take advantage of her presence rather than being the specific reason for their creation. For the great expense that goes into creating a golem, they are usually technically stunning but not particularly sexually attractive. Golems are also usually rather hard and rough for a woman to grind against and make for rather clumsy lovers, performing the wrote instructions they are given but with no understanding of what the desired response should be.

In some social spheres, having a golem to fuck is a sign of one’s wealth and mystical prowess; going to the extreme effort needed to have a golem made and animated only to use it for sex shows the mistress is not wanting for personal resources. This is not the case in most cultures; however, most people see the concept of keeping a golem for sexual relations as a petty abuse of magic, indicative of a spellcaster’s separation from humanity in pursuit of the arcane. Some joke that a wizard resorts to fucking her mindless construct once her years of isolated study cause her to lose all the social graces needed to bed a real woman. These jokes are rarely made around suspected mages, of course.

With the judgement that even a mere suspicion can prompt, most golem owners take steps to emotionally distance themselves from their property. One way is to reduce the beauty of a golem. Technically, most artisans with the skill to craft a golem could model them with lewdly high, lifelike fidelity. Doing this, however, makes most who view the beautiful golem automatically assume it is for the purposes of sex or at least simulated companionship. To prevent these assumptions, most artisans make golems more brutal-looking and less humanoid. Unfortunately, this increases the suspicion that those looking for beautiful golems are for perverse purposes, further incentivizing the dehumanisation of golems to the point where most golems, even those of innocent function, are intentionally uncanny or at least unappealing.

Another common tactic is simply to clothe their golems. While golems themselves of course lack any sense of shame or vulnerability to harsh weather, letting one’s arcane constructs walk around with their tits and pussies out is a sure-fire way of getting rumours of sexual deviancy flying. However, while most golem owners will go to the comparatively trivial expense of dressing their golems in plain garments, few go on to enchant these clothes with the resilience of their wearer. Thanks to this and the fact that golems do not take steps to maintain their modesty unless told to, many older golems, those that continue to patrol and wait in forgotten dungeons, are nude, their clothes having rotted or rusted off of them in the passing centuries. Of course, being naked does nothing to reduce the threat these tireless guardians present to intruders in their lost halls.

Men to Golem

Lacking any opinions of their own, golems do not have any personal draw or repulsion towards men and will neither help nor hinder a man in his attempts to fuck unless ordered to do so by their creator or somebody given authority by them. For golems that lack somebody around to directly order them, they generally treat men the same way they would under their last orders, unless their creator had enough of a predilection around men to give male-specific conditional orders, which may be for better or worse depending on the creator’s opinions.

In general, a man can assume himself to be either attacked by a golem or completely ignored by it. Just as a golem cannot be charmed or frightened, even the most charming man cannot seduce one. With the complete impassivity of a golem, a man may think of just leaping on her and fucking her. Normally, a golem will provide no resistance to such sudden use, completely ignoring the insertion. If the golem is working, it will continue to do so no matter what, only stopping if the man’s sexual behaviour significantly interferes with its task, in which case it will attempt to remove him violently if doing so is expedient, before continuing with its activity. In any case, fucking in this way is unlikely to get a man much cooperation from his constructed lover.

Most of the time, if a man wants to fuck a golem and have it work with him to that goal, his best bet is to find the owner of a golem and convince them to let him have sex with it. The response of most women in possession of a golem, if they do not reject the request outright, is a desire for something in exchange, be it money like an expensive whore or a favour suiting a male adventurer. The main reason for this hesitance is because most spellcasters capable of making a golem have also learned enough to know that breeding a golem does not circumvent the expensive crafting process by making it birth another one.

Despite its animacy, a golem’s body is largely inert matter. As such, none of the golem’s being can interact with a man’s sperm or life force to become pregnant except one part: the elemental spirit that grants the golem its semblance of life. Already being something that doesn’t get pregnant easily, any given fuck between a man and a golem is unlikely to get the latter’s spirit pregnant. However, if the elemental spirit does merge with the life force in the man’s sperm, the golem will become pregnant. During its pregnancy, a golem typically doesn’t respond to its expanding stomach and added weight, even as its belly grows to match the rest of its size. Eventually, normally after around two years, the golem stops what it is doing for a few minutes to birth a full-size elemental of the kind that comprises its spirit, so an earth elemental in most cases. The newborn elemental is typically beholden to no mortal and thus may be troublesome, but in most cases, she simply wanders off in search of access to her elemental plane or a location attuned to it.

As an elemental's imbuement is required to bring a golem to life and all common elementals are female, all golems must be built with female anatomy in order to animate. A golem built to resemble a male, with a cock instead of tits and a pussy, will simply fail to awaken when the ashes of a manual of golems are sprinkled over it. Some mages theorise that if a male elemental could be used, a male golem could be animated. However, the only known elementals capable of being male are genies, and a manual of golems containing such a powerful, intelligent, and wilful being is unlikely to last long before its occupant escapes.

Chapter 136: Clay Golem (Art)

Perhaps the archetypical golem, a clay golem might earn its renown due to its lack of a close resemblance to anything else an adventurer is likely to face on their journey. The uninformed may mistake an iron golem for an oversized suit of animated armour, a stone golem as some sort of animate statue, and flesh golems as near any form of corporeal undead. Yet when a nine-or-so-foot mass of animate clay sculpture stomps its way through, there is little that construct can be besides some form of clay golem.

Earthen Body

Of all the more wholesome materials that golems can be crafted from, clay is perhaps the easiest to work with. The modelling of a clay golem can take place in a great many places, not needing a specialised forge, workshop, or even complicated tools. A clay golem is made with little more than needles, a knife, and a trowel, though the craftsperson wielding these tools must still use them with significant skill and precision.

Clay is also a rather cheap material compared to other raw goods, so a layperson may be forgiven for guessing that a clay golem can be made for basically nothing if one has the ceramic and arcane know-how. In truth, however, clay golems can only be made out of clay fortified with various expensive magical herbs and salts. As well as making the clay magically active, this treatment process also causes the clay to rapidly harden into a nearly indestructible shell. This clay requires a stronger solvent than water to be malleable enough to work with, namely acid. This softening reaction on exposure to acid remains after being made animate. One may consider this a weakness, but no matter how soft it gets, a clay golem remains warded against changes to its form; therefore, a soft clay golem, whose clay is able to squash and shift, can only move back to resemble its pristine shape. A clay golem doused with acid thus effectively repairs herself until the acid neutralises.

Befitting their mutable substance, clay golems can technically be made in a variety of different forms, from the guise of a beautiful maiden all the way to esoteric shapes that defy description, so long as they retain the tits and pussy they need to animate. Most of the time, however, both to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies and to avoid accusations of licentious misuse, most clay golems have only a barely humanoid build, a lumbering figure with bulky, ill-proportioned limbs and features.

For all the fascinating traits it has, clay is not the ideal medium to house an elemental spirit. As such, damage that manages to penetrate a clay golem’s formidable defences can shake the bindings that hold the elemental to the golem’s body. Like any golem, a clay golem’s elemental spirit will escape if it is utterly destroyed, slipping back into the Elemental Planes. However, before total destruction, a notably damaged clay golem can suffer a violent clash between its assigned nature and the will of the struggling elemental within. Most of the time, this results in the golem going completely berserk. Beholden to no master, a berserk clay golem will attack anyone it can get its clumsy hands on. If there is no life to extinguish nearby, the golem will smash random objects in its vicinity. Once a clay golem goes berserk, the only options available are to destroy it entirely or completely repair it, thus returning it to its normal obedient state.

Temple Guards

Perhaps because of its weaker medium, a clay golem’s elemental spirit is somewhat more palpable than that of other golems, being closer to the surface as it were due to the lack of serious restraint. Though hard to quantify, it is hard to deny that a clay golem’s presence is somewhat starker than their figure has any right to be. The effects of this instability are most obvious when a golem is commanded to slay its creator’s foes. When ordered to fight, a clay golem wades in and starts swinging in spasmodic flurries of unexpectedly fast blows.

When a clay golem’s arms connect to a target, the inferior binding of its clay body causes the immutability charms on it, ostensibly cast to keep spellcasters from tampering with the particularities of her form, to rub off a bit on foes. Unless the magic is resisted by the foe, the wounds she causes, be they bruises, contusions, or broken bones, are rendered similarly unchanging. Such enchanted injuries, being unable to change, do not heal naturally. Even healing magics are blunted against such a wound, requiring significant power to let the victim recover.

With all this magic and spirituality around them, as well as the visually rustic material of their construction, many religions find interest in clay golems. A replication of a deity's ability to create life, crafting a golem is seen by some faiths as a way to associate with and better understand their goddesses. Thanks to the great expense of their production, priestesses do not usually have clay golems as personal guards unless they are of greatly esteemed rank or are transporting something precious to the faith. More often, clay golems are posted on sites of religious significance and in temples, tasked with performing simple, strong-backed labour and guarding the hallowed grounds. If these sites are eventually abandoned or brought to ruin, the clay golem may continue to guard the remaining rubble, proving to be a danger to explorers even hundreds of years later.

Though lacking any mental acuity required to practice or even truly comprehend the religion for which they were built, certain temple-made clay golems may be instilled with certain instructions that reflect the religion of their creator. A golem may cease to act on certain days of the year, “resting” in response to a holy day of the faith. An adventurer who comes prepared and dresses in the vestments of the faith may also be spared by the clay golem. It is even possible that certain holy phrases and rites act as codes that drive the golem to perform a certain act.

Sex and Sexuality Among Clay Golems

For the most part, the unnerving, disproportionate nature of a clay golem’s body, not to mention its mechanical soullessness, makes most women uncomfortable with the idea of having sex with one. This is, for the most part, by design. Since most who own golems do not desire the social repercussions of being thought of as using something as complex and powerful as a clay golem as something as base as sating one’s lust, they make their golems as unsexualized as possible while still retaining the necessary features to let a female elemental spirit access its body: appropriately sized tits and a vagina.

Most owners further their golem’s modesty by covering their necessarily lewd parts in clothing, typically little more than a simple tunic or toga. Some temples choose to dress their clay golem in the attire of a novice acolyte, symbolising its association and loyalty to the faith but inability to understand its tenants. However, these clothes, which provide little function save for public decency, are rarely warded in any way. If a golem is lost or abandoned, the years of wear and tear will leave it naked, not that it has the ability to be embarrassed by the event.

So common are ugly clay golems that many people, even learned spellcasters, mistakenly believe that the rough, unattractive features are somehow necessary to their design. This is not the case. In many faiths and cultures that embrace lust, clay golems are sculpted with much greater fidelity, often resembling much more beautiful women. Though this makes others more willing to fuck them, clay golems do not become any more sexually talented or less disinterested in sex for being more attractive, still needing to be directly commanded to fuck.

Men to Clay Golems

Thanks to the broader sexual interests of most men, few of the measures taken by most craftspeople to reduce sex appeal are enough to make clay golems truly unattractive to one. As such, many men are happy to fuck a clay golem as is convenient. Men rarely go out of their way to have a clay golem made for them, seeing it as an endeavour of excessive effort and expense that could instead go towards fucking real women, but if an existing clay golem is sexually available, few men would turn the opportunity down.

Being devoid of their own interests and opinions, clay golems rarely have a specific reaction to men that is different from their reaction to women, unless specifically instructed to by one bearing power over them. Due to the rarity of men, most clay golems do not have specific conditional instructions regarding them.

When a golem is abandoned and alone, or simply not currently attended by anyone it considers permitted to command it, it will more than likely be either hostile or completely uncooperative to a man, making it a challenging effort to manoeuvre to actually fuck it. To actually have a clay golem fuck a man, he must usually either find a way to become her master or, more often, find somebody already in control of the golem to command it for him.

Private clay golem owners vary wildly in how accepting they are of a man requesting help to fuck their property. Some women will refuse outright, perhaps even seeing the request as an insult worthy of hostility. Others will be far more willing, perhaps also wanting to be involved themselves. Most cooperative individuals, however, will demand something more, reflective of the great expense that goes into a clay golem’s creation. In temples, the price and cooperativeness of the clergy usually depend more on the dictates of the faith practiced, and the price will more often be a task for the temple than a monetary payment.

Notes:

Big thanks to Vandi for the art on this chapter, check them out on Instagram @avvandiart

Chapter 137: Flesh Golem

Notes:

WARNING: Not Technically the undead, but probably close enough for most people with reservations about that sort of thing. If you wouldn't be comfortably reading about fucking Frankenstein's monster or the female equivalent, skip this chapter.

Golems themselves are entities of no moral comprehension; just as a hammer does not decide to build a house or bludgeon an innocent person, a golem’s actions are likewise dictated in most cases by the one giving them commands. Despite this, however, some individuals find the existence of golems to be unethical. These proponents argue that golem-making is a reckless abuse by mortals of the creative forces that should remain entrusted to the divine. This party’s strongest argument may be the flesh golem.

Made out of the body parts of various humanoids stitched and grafted together, a flesh golem looks a lot like a zombie in the common eye. Flesh golems are not undead, however; they are merely constructs that happen to be made of corpses, animated by an elemental spirit rather than necrotic power. Despite not being the result of necromancy, however, most flesh golems are created by those of a largely immoral stance, since the acquisition of the required materials requires a flexible ethical code.

Graverobber’s Creation

In order to make a flesh golem, one needs flesh, specifically the fresh corpses of humanoids. It is from this requirement that flesh golems gain much of their sinister reputation. Since few people would willingly surrender their own body or the remains of a loved one in order for a wizard or the like to make it into a monstrous servant, flesh golems are usually made in secret, with the materials being acquired by less than legal means. Hopeful flesh golem owners, or more often their underlings, head out in the dark of night to exhume newly filled graves, bribe doctors into “losing” the remains of their lost patients, and pick battlefields for the fallen. When these sources dry up, many such individuals will stoop to murder, killing the homeless, passing adventurers, and others who won’t be noticed for their flesh.

Normally, a flesh golem is not composed of a single corpse but pieces from multiple. In order to be acceptable for use in a flesh golem, all parts of her construction must be in pristine condition, undamaged, and free of decay. If a part of the initial corpse is unusable, it must be cut out and replaced by a suitable piece from another carcass. Though a flesh golem doesn’t need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe, she does need a few largely intact internal organs in order to function, along with her breasts, limbs, and other external features. These organs are the brain, spinal cord, uterus, heart, and the major arteries that connect to them.

Even if a single corpse is utterly intact, it is rarely sufficient for a flesh golem by itself. In order to attain the great strength and resilience golems are known for, a flesh golem normally has additional muscles inserted from other bodies, additional bones strapped to the skeleton for reinforcement, and additional skin to stretch over the added mass. Along with the organic matter, a flesh golem also requires a series of embalming fluids and copper wires to assist the construct’s nerves. With surgical skill and precision, the preserved corpse pieces can be assembled in the correct arrangement and enchanted with the necessary wards.

Once the ashes from a manual of flesh golems are sprinkled over top, the flesh golem is technically complete. However, since elemental spirits do not bind well to humanoid flesh, the flesh golem needs a significant jolt to let it truly animate. The huge amount of electrical power necessary to initially bring a flesh golem to life can be huge. Most spellcasters capable of making a flesh golem in the first place are able to make such a charge with spells like lightning bolt. If this or a similar spell is not in the spellcaster’s repertoire, they may await a storm, building a lightning rod so that natural lightning may awaken their creation.

Obedient Mind

For most golems, there is no internal mentality, it receives an order from its creator and it does it in the most direct way it is permitted to do so. A flesh golem, however, has a brain, one that is reactivated somewhat when the she is brought to life. Though a flesh golem rarely retains many of the memories or personality traits of her brain’s original owner, the brain does grant her some limited capacity for thought, on a similar level to that of a small child. A flesh golem usually cannot talk, but may express herself through, grunts, babbling, and simple gestures.

Like all golems, a flesh golem is created with complete loyalty to her creator. Unlike other golems however, where this obedience is simply built in, a flesh golem obeys her creator because she sees them as a parent of sorts, the one figure she can trust most out of the entire world. Though a flesh golem is practically the only kind of golem that may be reasoned with thanks to her personal thought process, convincing her to go against her creator’s orders borderline impossible.

Flesh golems are also capable of emotion, to a degree. A flesh golem may display curiosity at something new, become frustrated and bored if left to her own devices for too long, or even howl in agony as the incongruity of her body and elemental spirit clashes from time to time. These emotional responses may grow into a plethora of fears, complexes, and eccentricities. Most flesh golems possess the instinctual fear of burning, causing them to fight less effectively against foes who wield flame. Other fears include fierce animals, deep water, and the dark, despite the fact that as a golem, she is largely immune to most animal fangs cannot penetrate her enchanted skin, she cannot drown, and she can see through darkness.

As well as fearing things, a flesh golem can also become rather attached to things. A flesh golem may clumsily try to imitate her creator’s mannerisms as a show of admiration, or else become fiercely attached to something like a toy or small animal, becoming incredibly distressed should harm befall it. Many owners of flesh golems try to educate their creations out of these quirks, through abuse or gradual education, others permit or even try to exploit these traits for greater control. Some creators, normally of a less than stable mental state, even try to educate their flesh golem further, trying to make them into a ward or adoptive child of sorts. The success of these latter actions is rarely all that great, with whispers of truly intelligent flesh golems being little more than rumours.

All of this emotionality and personal thought process comes to a rather ugly end in the event a flesh golem suffers significant harm. With the pain and confusion of truly life-threatening combat, a flesh golem can completely lose its simple mind and go berserk. Smashing and beating on anyone and anything she comes across; a berserk flesh golem can cause massive disruption if not stopped quickly. In order to bring her rampage to an end, a flesh golem’s creator may be able to use their parental bond to try and talk her down. Should the creator fail to calm her creation or is simply unavailable, the flesh golem must be slain or fully relieved of her pain, normally by the timely introduction of nourishing electricity.

Sex and Sexuality Among Flesh Golems

The sexuality of a flesh golem is interesting, since its nature makes it simultaneously the arguably most and least appropriate golem to fuck. On the one hand, where most golems merely have approximations of feminine body parts, a flesh golem's tits, pussy, and womb are all real, taken from real humanoid bodies. On the other hand, most women are understandably disturbed by the concept of being anywhere near a walking mass of stitched-together corpses with the mind of a four-year-old, let alone fucking it. Even women willing to make a flesh golem rarely make her for sexual reasons and find the concept of using it as such to be unappealing, to the point of making her wear clothes so that they don’t have to look at her naked body.

Though her womb is real, most flesh golems lack the ability to fall pregnant by a woman; their bodies, including the uterus, are dead flesh animated and maintained by elemental magic. There is a small cadre of flesh golems known as incubators, which are different. With incredibly well preserved, somehow living wombs, these incubator golems can get pregnant and give birth to humanoid children as if they were the womb’s original owner. The secret of preserving a uterus in this way was lost centuries ago. The remaining incubator golems are therefore incredibly old; the reason for their reproductive ability is unknown but estimated to be for the preservation of certain women’s bloodlines beyond their deaths.

For most non-incubator flesh golems, their sex drive is fairly low. A flesh golem can feel carnal pleasure and may masturbate when she is permitted to, but usually has interests and duties beyond sex to occupy her. Sometimes, however, a flesh golem is known to feel lonely or even fall in love. Sometimes, two flesh golems under the same master may fuck one another for pleasure and to not feel alone; their master must either command them to stop or then begin to teach their creations when it is and isn’t appropriate to fuck.

Other times, the golem may fall for a humanoid. Though a flesh golem will not defy her creator to pursue her feelings, she may wander off in search of the object of her affections if not monitored closely. Such attempts at an amorous liaison rarely end well for anyone involved. Most people are horrified when a flesh golem starts to pursue them; their terror not put at ease even if they manage to intuit the amorous intentions of her growls. Being fiercely, and often violently, rejected, flesh golems can respond in a variety of different ways; some may hide away in fear and sorrow, others might lash out, forgetting their own strength in their rage and killing the woman, or abduct her to fuck despite her reservations. Despite these ghastly ends, most flesh golems don’t act this way out of cruelty or malice but out of a crippling need for companionship, a desire for pleasure, and a lack of maturity needed to control themselves.

Men to Flesh Golems

Generally, if a flesh golem is given enough time and opportunity to gauge it, she will normally pick up on her creator’s attitude towards men and seek to imitate it as best she can. Without such guidance, however, a flesh golem’s first encounter with a man seems to provoke an instinctual response of lust and a desire to breed from within her brain. In such a case, though normally rather uncertain to start with, the golem may begin acting in a rather childishly flirtatious way, followed by incredibly forward, if non-verbal, sexual propositions. This can even go as far as to have the flesh golem actively try to force herself on a man if sex is not forthcoming.

As well as being sexually cooperative, flesh golems tend to be favourable towards men thanks to their lust. As long as a man’s request isn’t clearly suicidal or counter to the goals and wellbeing of her creator, a flesh golem will normally seek to be helpful to him, assuming his goals are for the best. All of this, however, does not mean that a man can seduce a flesh golem's loyalty away. No matter how fond a flesh golem is of a man, she will imprison, harm, or even kill him without a second thought if her creator tells her to do so, swiftly assuming that the man was no good after all.

Despite her flesh and bone body, most flesh golems, apart from the incubator golems, have the same lack of fertility as golems made from inorganic matter; the only part of them capable of being impregnated is the elemental spirit that powers them. Non-incubator flesh golems that get pregnant therefore give birth to full-sized elementals.

All of this matter of breeding and seduction, however, raises the point as to whether a man should be fucking flesh golems at all. Most men aiming to be benevolent generally refrain from fucking the corporeal undead. Not only is there a general revulsion to the act, but most such undead are merely animate corpses, their deceased, normally innocent, owners no longer being around to consent to their body’s use in such ways, making many men consider it a form of unjustified rape. Though not technically undead, flesh golems are likewise constructed of deceased people not capable of consent. However, flesh golems do have a will of their own and are capable and often eager to consent. The hypothetical answer to the quandary most heroic men thus arrive at is that it is wrong to make a flesh golem or have one made for sexual purposes (or for most any other for that matter), but if a man comes across an existing flesh golem who wants to fuck him, he is at liberty to do so if he wants.

Some more twisted individuals dream of making a male flesh golem, an obedient construct servant with the cock and sexual expertise of a real man. However, there are many obstacles to such a dark ambition. Firstly, finding and accumulating enough fresh, undamaged male corpses to make a body is a challenge in and of itself. Men already take steps to avoid their corpses being found due to their desirability to necromancers, and combined with the sheer rarity of men, this makes the acquisition of their remains a logistical nightmare. Even if one were to find enough male bodies or decide to simply stitch on a cock to a regular golem, like some strange male/female hybrid, the elemental spirits that animate a golem’s body are female and therefore reject male flesh. No matter how it is attached, any tissue from a male would not be part of the flesh golem’s body, likely degrading away in a matter of weeks. If a flesh golem was made entirely out of male body parts, it would simply fail to animate.

Chapter 138: Iron Golem

At first glance, an iron golem most resembles an oversized set of animated armour. However, if one looks closer, one can swiftly tell that an iron golem was never meant to be worn, not even by creatures closer to it in size. The interior of an iron golem is not fully hollow, instead housing numerous support struts holding the varied mechanical systems of gears, axels, pistons, and bellows. An iron golem is no suit of awoken armour but a near-invulnerable metal construct, powered by magic and driven to fight whatever its creator demands.

Forged in Flame

Despite their name, iron golems are rarely constructed purely out of iron. More often, the golem is formed of steel alloyed with trace amounts of more magically active metals, such as mithril and adamantine. However, it isn’t entirely the metal used that enables the creation of an iron golem, but the way it is constructed. In order to make an iron golem, one must take several tonnes of metal and precisely forge them into parts of such mechanical finery that a hair’s breadth of inaccuracy can result in the complete failure of the project. As such, it takes more than a common village smith to forge an iron golem.

Iron golems are usually the product of the most talented smiths, artificers, and engineers one can find, working tirelessly for months at a time to produce even a single golem. This makes iron golems most commonly wielded either by the incredibly wealthy, such as queens, warlords, and dragons, or by races of long-lived, highly dedicated crafters such as the dwarves, fire giants, azers, and occasionally even gnomes. Even in these esteemed circles of craftspeople, an iron golem is a legendary achievement and calls for celebration and resonant praise for the smith responsible.

For even the best smiths, the pieces of an iron golem have the unfortunate quality of becoming harder and harder to hammer into shape as they get closer to completion, the resilient magic gradually taking hold even as the golem is made. As such, no ordinary smithy will do for the creation of an iron golem. In the name of making iron golems, many smiths have claimed dangerous and strange places for their forge, from active volcanoes to portals that lead to the Elemental Plane of Fire itself. Some smiths forge uneasy alliances with fire-breathing dragons or capture hellish flaming beasts to forge with their supernatural flame. Others take the longer process, crafting first powerful and magical tools that can then go on to help smith the golem, hurricane force, self-pumping bellows, and magical adamantine hammers, for example.

When the work is complete and an iron golem steps out of the forge, its shape is permanently set by magic. Never again will a flame bend or warp it. In fact, most iron golems are built to absorb the heat of flames for their own use. So deeply ingrained is an iron golem’s shape in its being that, in the rare event that something overcomes its formidable defences and damages it, it can simply be exposed to fire and passively begin to reforge itself back into its prime.

Golems of War

With great physical strength and no concept of exhaustion, an iron golem can be set to all manner of manual labour. Whether working in a mine, chopping down trees by the score, or hauling goods from place to place, an iron golem can excel in any of these simple tasks. However, an iron golem is rarely built with the intention of having it do busy work. Moreso than almost any other golem, the iron golem is a golem designed for combat. Whether standing guard over a place, person, or treasure or sideling out onto the fields of all-out war, iron golems are made to defend those their creator deems allies and destroy their maker's foes.

Even compared to the stupendous resilience all golems share, iron golems possess a durability all their own, being able to deflect even magical, blessed, or adamantine weapons most of the time with their enchanted metal bodies. This nigh invulnerability, combined with a golem’s total lack of fear, lets an iron golem stride straight into the thick of battle, fighting unendingly against hordes of foes.

An iron golem’s immense strength, combined with its metallic mass, also lets it bring down formidable blows. A stray blow from an iron golem’s bare hands is normally sufficient to crush an enemy soldier or bring down fortifications. Usually, this power is directed even more fiercely through a weapon, typically a sword, axe, hammer, or the like, oversized even by its wielder’s towering physique, but wielded with ease thanks to the absurd strength in an iron golem’s arms.

In combat, an iron golem tends to strike at one enemy at a time, dispatching its foes one by one. However, to let it better handle enemies in groups, most creators of iron golems equip it with yet more deadly magic. Normally, this magic consists of a fairly simple ability to spray virulent poison gas from a grill on its face every so often. A somewhat common alternative when structural damage is not a concern to its maker is to replace the poison with flame, letting it not only burn down structures but also help to repair its allies. This upgrade usually requires the animating elemental within the golem to be of fire rather than earth, thus sacrificing some stability for extra offensive power.

With their function in war, iron golems have unsurprisingly gained a frightful reputation, one that is not entirely undeserved. Still, iron golems are not in and of themselves evil, having no internal process by which to conceive of morality. Like most golems, therefore, the morality of an iron golem's actions depends on the one commanding them. An iron golem under the command of a good commander may perform heroic actions, striding fearlessly out to act in places they would not conceive of risking actual lives. On the other hand, a well-equipped villain can always trust their golem to perform the most abhorrent actions they order without hesitation or remorse.

Sex and Sexuality Among Iron Golems

Like most golems, iron golems are unilaterally mindless, with no mental conception supportive of or against sex. In fact, of all golems, iron golems may be the physically least suited to sexual activity. With a cold metal body, large, imprecise hands, and a tendency towards imposing figures, iron golems are unappealing to virtually all women, perhaps with the exception of those who have heavily fallen for the mystique and alure of a knight in shining armour and are thus willing to fuck a representation of the armour itself. Most of the time, however, those lone artisans who develop the strange desire to make their own armoured paramours can find less expensive, marginally more appropriate paramours in the form of actual armour-based constructs and therefore don’t go to the bother of making an iron golem as a sexual partner.

At the same time, however, like all golems, an iron golem must be built with a distinctly female body in order for its female elemental spirit to be secured and give it animation. As such, all iron golems possess a pair of hulking metal breasts that can compress and bounce despite their material and a vagina between their legs that leads to a simple chamber, an inert facsimile of a womb. Of course, many cultures find discomfort and embarrassment in their animated weapons stomping about with their tits and pussy out and such nudity normally counteracts the imposing, inhuman aspect most iron golem owners wish to display.

As such, it is not uncommon for these private areas, despite not being weaker than the rest of the golem in any appreciable way, to have armour layered atop them, a mundane breastplate over the torso, and either a crotch plate or armoured skirt to hide her vagina. These modesty parts, unlike the golem itself, are generally mundane in nature, simply forged out of metal to cover the iron golem’s shame. As a result, while a golem still in active use tends to have these accessories as well maintained as the rest of it, an iron golem lost or left to its own devices for a few decades will usually have these pieces rust away to nothing while the true body is magically protected, leaving the golem nude. Unfortunately for anyone who falls into such an iron golem’s aggressive sights, an iron golem is as devoid of shame as any other mindless construct and can fight just as well with her boobs bouncing free.

Men to Iron Golems

In the unopinionated eyes of an iron golem, a man is either a target for destruction, a protectorate, or nothing at all. While an iron golem can differentiate between male and female if it is commanded to, it will not discriminate in such a way of its own limited volition. Sometimes discriminatory functions in an iron golem are unintentional; a villain may set their golem on a massacre with a command along the lines of “kill every woman in the castle,” meaning to kill everyone, but accidentally commanding the golem to spare a visiting man by omission. Some particularly misandrist or hopeful owners intentionally preset commands in iron golems to attack or grant privileges to men on sight, but most of the time, a man’s presence is unlikely enough that eventualities that explicitly relate to a person’s sex are left by the wayside.

Just as an iron golem can be ordered to attack a man, they can also be ordered to fuck him if those with authority to give the order do so. Without this order, an iron golem will make no attempt to resist or assist a man in fucking it, generally ignoring any attempts he makes. If the man’s pestering gets to the point where he interferes with an iron golem’s current orders, it may well attack or manhandle him out of the way.

Most people who have iron golems, generally those of a military bent, are usually reticent to allow random men to misuse their highly valuable weapons for their own lust and curiosity. Generally, the price to do so is high, either in the form of a massive financial contribution to the military force or a favour that saves the army from future danger and difficulty.

Like all golems, the metal canister that serves as an approximation of a womb in an iron golem lacks the fertility of a real, living uterus. The only way for an iron golem to get pregnant is for the life energy in a man’s sperm to meet the elemental power of the spirit that animates it, thus resulting in it getting pregnant with an elemental identical to the one that gives it a semblance of life. How an iron golem’s pregnancy progresses generally depends on what elemental resides within.

In most cases, where an earth elemental’s spirit was installed within the golem on its creation, an iron golem’s pregnancy is highly noticeable as her belly swells to almost match the rest of her body, filled with a fully corporeal elemental. Other elementals, such as fire, are far more compressible, barely distorting the golem’s false womb and possibly going completely unnoticed until it slips from its vagina.

Chapter 139: Stone Golem

At first glance, there is very little to differentiate a stone golem from a regular, albeit well preserved, statue. That is, until it starts to move. A great and lumbering mass of rock, artfully carved into a female form, stone golems are emblematic of the extreme timelessness of a golem’s loyalty. While some modern individuals continue to create golems of stone, able to be hidden among true statuary, their roles as servants and defenders have largely been subsumed by easier-to-make clay golems and more powerful iron golems. Most existing stone golems are therefore ancient constructs. Though their creators are centuries dead, the stone golems persist in forgotten tombs and ancient ruins, ready to enact their mistresses’ final commands.

Carved Constructs

The art of making stone golems is a process long forgotten, known today only by a select few, mostly by wizards and clerics turned archaeologists. Like all golems, the creation of a stone golem calls for both artisanal skill (in this case, stonemasonry) and magical capability. In particular, for a stone golem, use of the spell stone shape, a spell that moulds solid rock like clay, is all but necessary for several steps in the process. In particular, the creation of a hollow chamber within the stone, connected to the outside by a passage narrower than most stonemason’s tools, which will end up being the golem’s womb, is virtually impossible to sculpt by hand and must be shaped with magic. Only the dwarves know of techniques to make a stone golem entirely without the stone shape spell.

Even with the expedient of stone shape, magic cannot mould a stone golem entirely. To house an elemental spirit securely, a stone golem’s body requires a level of precision that cannot be achieved through spells alone. Most of a stone golem’s body thus requires the steady hand of a sculptor to carve. Only the greatest sculptors of stone can hope to make a statue perfect enough to come to life, but it is not fidelity or even beauty that they must strive for. Instead, a stone golem’s animation relies on a nearly imperceptible underlying pattern that the artist must incorporate.

Just because a stone golem must be perfect, however, doesn’t mean that they all look the same. Most stone golems are humanoid, typically around eight to ten feet tall. Some are sculpted to resemble specific women, but most are more generic or have faces whose double has been lost to time. Humanoid forms are not the limit, however. Some stone golems resemble animals or are even abstract, just about feminine shapes. The only real limit to a stone golem’s overall appearance is that it has breasts and a vagina scaled correctly to its total size.

Thanks to the material of their construction, stone golems greatly resemble stone statues and thus rarely stand out in the castles, tombs, and ruins they typically inhabit as long as they stand still. As such, stone golems are less often an overt symbol of their owner’s power and more of a hidden security system. The instant an assassin breaks into a noble’s garden, their plot may be turned completely on its head when the decorative statue in her likeness comes to life and barrels towards them, ready to clobber the intruder within an inch of their lives.

A stone golem can stay at its post for a long time, however, sometimes to the point where the decedents of those it is supposed to protect forget that it was ever animate, only for them to receive quite a shock when what they thought was an ordinary statue awakens in their estate’s hour of need or, less helpfully, when they attempt to renovate nearby buildings in a way the golem was taught to view as destructive.

Timeless Guardians

For most, the art of making a stone golem is lost to the ancients, civilisations long since fallen who commanded their creations to watch over their most precious sites and treasures. While some of these locations are still inhabited, knowingly or not, by the civilisation's living decedents, most stand as forgotten ruins, buried under histories and new constructions, ignorant of what lies beneath. In these forgotten places, stone golems sit in motionless silence, just waiting for somebody to intrude on the sanctity of their chambers.

When a hapless spelunker or adventurer stumbles across a stone golem in the dark of an abandoned ruin, the golem instantly moves into action. Not caring that the one who gave it its orders is likely long gone, the stone golem attacks anything it was informed to classify as unwelcome. This category can include people of certain races or ethnicities, those not dressed in an appropriate manner for the location, or simply people who are not part of the roster of likely long-dead permitted visitors.

Like all golems, stone golems are practically invulnerable to most mundane assaults and can retaliate with devastating force with a mere swing of their limbs. As such, a stone golem can handily defeat most enemies that choose to stand and fight it. Yet running from a stone golem is rarely any more likely to save oneself.

Built to apprehend or eliminate trespassers, most stone golems are inbuilt with a unique ability to stop runaways, one that almost seems bound to their ancient nature. With a wave of invisible magical power, a stone golem can warp the perception of time for any victim unfortunate enough to be within her vicinity. From the afflicter’s point of view, everything around them, including the previously lumbering golem, starts to move in double time, with the construct getting two punches in on them every time they manage to swing their sword. In reality, it is the victims who are slowed, their minds magically limited to acting at only half their usual speed. This normally gives the stone golem plenty of time to beat down all of her foes.

Sex and Sexuality Among Stone Golems

Though it is hard to know for certain how long extinct civilisations used and viewed their golems, one notable fact is that few stone golems are crafted to have imposing, sexually discouraging appearances. Excluding those golems made specifically to look monstrous, bestial, or abstract, most stone golems are built to resemble fairly attractive, or at least not unattractive, humanoids. Whether that meant attraction to and sex with stone golems in those ages past wasn’t frowned upon in the same way most it is for modern women is hard to tell; there are other reasons stone golems may have been crafted in an attractive manner.

The simplest reason is that many stone golems were created to resemble somebody, be that their creator, the patron of the work, or some celebrated public figure. A stone golem could thus act as a monument to that individual that would stand the test of time when not enacting its creator’s will. Even when trying to look imposing or serious, few individuals would want their rendering in enchanted stone to be ugly. Thus, far from making it less attractive, craftswomen were encouraged to make their stone golems as complimentary to the model as possible, glossing over imperfections and enhancing desirable traits. Even if a stone golem is not meant to look like anyone in particular, most stone golems were made with a secondary function as statuary. As with any decoration, most individuals prefer to have statues that are pleasant to look at.

One issue that comes from using stone golems as statues is the necessity of their animation. An ordinary statue only needs to look right on its outer layer. If one were to take a statue of a woman in a dress, for example, and chisel away at its attire, there would not be a faithful recreation of a nude woman underneath. A stone golem needs those parts, however, the breasts and vagina, in order to become animate. As such, stone golems are created nude, perhaps ornamented with accessories, headwear, and the like as appropriate.

If one were to go on and use the golem as a statue, one would likely encounter several problems related to providing it with modesty in the same way other golems are provided for. If one were to try to put normal clothing on a stone golem, as some do with clay and flesh golems, its disguise as a statue would be all but ruined, with the placement of textiles on a naked statue making it stick out like a sore thumb. Trying to dress it in carved clothing, as one may put metal plates over an iron golem’s privates, is even harder. Stone is not the easiest material to make clothing out of, and slipping it over a stone golem’s form in a way that makes it seem like a part of the whole statue is even harder.

Though the stone shape spell has given some particularly prude owners of stone golems limited success in dressing them, clothing is usually unnecessary. For almost as long as dressing for decency has existed, there has also been the artistic merit of nudity. As such, naked statues rarely look out of place, and it is thus not hard to slip a nude stone golem among them.

Men to Stone Golems

Most stone golems currently exist in a state of perpetual guardianship. When such a golem notices an intruder, it attacks, even if the intruder happens to be a man. In a few rare cases, where the stone golem belonged to a particularly cock-worshipping civilisation, it may be left with excusatory commands to spare, sexually service, or even cede mastery of itself to any man it encounters. However, with how rare men are and thus how improbable the edge case of encountering one would have likely seemed to its creator, a man should not count on such good fortune in their encounters.

Unable to be seduced, intimidated into submission, or even forced to surrender through combat, most stone golems are impossible to fuck unless they are physically restrained by some absurdly strong magic or materials. If a man wants to fuck a more cooperative stone golem, he will have to find one with a living mistress and convince her to let him fuck it. Nowadays, especially, that is easier said than done.

With the general preference held for clay and iron golems by modern artificers, stone golems owned by the living are few and far between; generally, they come in the form of inheritance from ancient ancestors or recreations made by wizards and priestesses with an interest in antique knowledge. Knowing their golem to be rare, most stone golem owners are all too happy to make full use of their scarcity when dealing with horny or sexually curious men. Unless he is able to fully seduce or befriend such a rare individual, a man can expect the price of a night with a stone golem to be high indeed.

Chapter 140: Gorgon

Found thundering across plains, through mountains, and even within dark caverns, gorgons strongly resemble cattle, particularly the kind used for draft, covered entirely in plates of metal, ranging anywhere from silver-white to a dull blackish blue, looking as though they were forged by expert dwarfish smiths or gnomish engineers. A gorgon is no construct, however; beneath her armoured hide, she is a creature of flesh, blood, and ravenous fury.

Belied by her bovine appearance, a gorgon is not a simple grazer. Instead, she has a palate much broader than that of an everyday cow. Though capable of supplementing their diet with grasses, fungi, and even rocks, gorgons are predators first and foremost. With horn and hoof, a gorgon tears her prey apart, be they beast or person. Only when a gorgon realises that she has bitten off more than she can chew does she unleash the weapon for which she is most direly feared.

Stone Vapours

Were the average person or other potential prey to encounter a gorgon of her kind’s usual, violent temperament, it is highly unlikely that they would suffer the fate for which her kind is most famously known for delivering. In a way, the restraint of a gorgon deprives her prey of mercy, for it attacks with all the lethal savagery of a predator but all the torturous inefficiency of a prey animal provoked, lacking claws or sharp teeth to finish her victims quickly.

Like an angered ox, the gorgon’s favourite tactic is to simply charge her foe. With long, pointed horns, her target is not only impaled but also shoved by her titanic strength, knocked to the ground where she may trample their already wounded bodies with heavy metal hooves. However, where this would be the end of the assault for an ordinary bovine, the beast simply running over its victim and back to its herd, the gorgon takes this time to turn around and come back again, goring and stamping on her victim until they are dead, at which point they can begin to eat the carcass, a rather messy affair thanks to their blunt teeth.

In terms of target, it is easier to list what a gorgon will not attempt to prey on. A gorgon will try to kill most anything in its domain that seems like it will make a worthwhile meal, from beasts to monsters and even young dragons, though their ability to fly often frustrates her. Most certainly, few mortal humanoids are off a gorgon’s menu, even if they happen to be well-equipped adventurers. Once a gorgon commits to an attack, she is usually completely intractable, with virtually nothing convincing her to retreat unless she is at death’s very door. Even then, it is far from uncommon for a gorgon to needlessly fight to the death.

This hard-headedness does not mean that a gorgon is blind to being outclassed. Instead of retreating, however, a gorgon on the back foot falls back on a far more sudden path to victory. In a pinch, a gorgon can, from her flared nostrils, expel a deadly green gas. The exact nature of this substance is unclear, for a sample has never been isolated long enough to determine anything about it beyond its magical, transfigurative nature.

Not a poison in the truest sense, it matters not if a victim seeks to avoid inhaling it. Should any amount of this gas come into contact with flesh, a vile transformation begins. As the victim’s body begins to seize up, their flesh gradually becomes stone. Unless the poor soul has the bodily fortitude to fight off the gas’ power, it normally takes less than half a minute for full petrification to occur. Once fully a statue, the transformation is permanent and irreversible without powerful restorative magic.

Gorgons generally do not use their gas on easy prey for the simple reason that needlessly turning flesh to stone denies them a decent meal, since flesh is far more nourishing and the gorgon lacks any ability to reverse its gas’ effect. A gorgon’s petrifying breath is thus a defensive measure, made to snatch victory when her blind violence would have otherwise spelled her demise.

This is not to say the gorgon finds no use in her petrified victims. With a series of kicks and stomps, a gorgon reduces the statues she makes down to rubble, bringing her foes’ true deaths about in the process. Once the pieces are small enough to fit easily in her mouth, the gorgon’s iron teeth grind the rubble to dust before swallowing it, her powerful stomach being able to draw some small amount of mineral nutrition from it. A messy eater, a gorgon’s territory is strewn not only with bones and gore but also the fragmented pieces of many petrified foes.

Brutal Ranchers

Unlike true cattle, gorgons are not herd animals. At the most, gorgons may roam around in mated pairs or in a gang of three or four closely related individuals. Otherwise, gorgons are solitary monsters who are only slightly less violent when encountering each other compared to other creatures, the loosing gorgon being sent packing with vicious stab wounds rather than being outright killed.

This asociality, unsurprisingly, makes gorgons incredibly difficult to domesticate. As far as most humanoids are concerned, truly taming a gorgon is pretty much impossible. The closest mortals get to controlling the monstrosity is simply to imprison it, unleashing the gorgon into an area in need of defence, such as sewers or catacombs, or else waiting to release it into an arena of sorts as a form of cruel execution or grim entertainment. Some enterprising evildoers have even learned how to provoke trapped gorgons into exhaling their petrifying breath through grates, letting them petrify intruders without their pets smashing the statues, giving the villain something to gloat over for years to come.

While mortals can generally do little more than trap a gorgon in their dungeon to unleash on their foes, some more supernatural beings can exert a finer control over a gorgon. Firstly, gorgons seem unusually cautious around creatures with a natural immunity to petrification, seeming to instinctively know that if their physical might doesn’t suffice, their breath will not save them. Thanks to this, such immune creatures can more easily browbeat gorgons into service. The most famous of these owners are probably the dao genies, who have gorgons stabled and kept by similarly petrification-immune elemental servants like gargoyles so as to draw their carriages, execute their prisoners, and even produce milk so as to show off the massive resources. Gorgons also have a unique affinity with medusa, perhaps due to their mutual petrifying ability. Though this connection does not guarantee peace between the two, medusa occasionally manage to gain a gorgon as a pet, granting them a powerful ally in battle and a companion they can look upon without turning it to stone.

Other creatures that lack any natural affinity or respect form gorgons must subdue their rage through magical placation, as some hags do to gather milk for their strange potions and confections, or through utterly inhuman cruelty, the choice of many fiends who desire gorgons as war beasts and iron-hard beasts of burden.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gorgons

Generally, when two unrelated gorgons meet, the immediate response is to lock horns and fight until one of the pair is deemed the weaker and is chased off, typically with a few nasty scars to show for it. However, should two gorgons duel for a while with no clear victor determined, they may cease their combat and begin to analyse each other as potential mates. Should the pair accept one another, they will remain a pair for a period of time, typically anywhere from around four years to a decade. Mated gorgons roam, hunt in, and defend each other’s territories, alternating between working together and wandering separately.

Even when paired up, actual mating generally only occurs about once every two or so years. There is no set mating season among gorgons, with mating instead happening whenever a pair of gorgons feel like it. When gorgon’s breed, it is normally a loud, clattering affair thanks to the metal plates that cover their bodies scrapping and slamming against each other as the monsters violently fuck. Details on how gorgon’s naturally mate is hard to determine since the pair usually obscure themselves by backing into a corner or a dead-end cave and billowing out clouds of petrifying gas as they breed. Immune to each other’s expulsions, the gas keeps onlookers away while the gorgons are so vulnerably positioned, lest they risk being turned to stone.

Usually, both gorgons will get each other impregnated by the end of their mating session. Unlike normal cattle, gorgons average around two or three calves per pregnancy, the gestation of which can last around six to eight months. Despite the strain of carrying multiple calves, a gorgon’s incredible strength and fortitude make her perfectly capable of continuing to hunt and fend for herself through her entire pregnancy. Like a cow, gorgons give live birth to their young, and the calves are born able to stand and walk within hours.

Gorgon calves are fully covered by metal plates, though they lack their mother’s horns and tend to be a little slow and unsteady on their feet for the first month of their lives. In this most vulnerable period, a gorgon normally leaves her offspring somewhere sheltered, like a cave or thicket, coming back to them periodically to nurse them. At a month old, a young gorgon’s horns begin to come in, and she becomes swift enough to follow her mother. Still, she will continue to rely at least partially on her mother's milk for another five months. This nursing period is much shorter than that of true cattle, and as such, gorgon milk is far richer while also fortifying them with minerals to help develop their plates, horns, and bones.

At six months old, a young gorgon is over half her mother’s size and is ready to leave her parents territory, usually by force as the adult gorgons chase their calves away. Gorgon siblings usually stick together for the first portion of their lives, forming packs of four or so in order to stand up to adult gorgons and other monsters. Once true adulthood is attained, the juvenile pack splits up, with the territory they claimed together generally going to the strongest.

Perhaps because they are forced to restrain their violent tendencies somewhat in a domestic setting thus reducing the violent interactions that are part of a gorgon’s mating strategies, tame gorgons are incredibly difficult to breed in captivity, even for those supernatural races able to otherwise control them. As a result, gorgons must usually be seized from the wild for use by interested parties, typically as yearlings, and often at great risk and expense.

Men to Gorgons

By casual observation, it is hard to tell whether gorgons recognise the potential for humanoid men to be mates for them, since the aggression gorgons show their potential mates is more than enough to be lethal to a man that doesn’t take precautions. A man can thus expect no favourable treatment from a wild gorgon, who will attack him just as she would any other adventurer. The main sign that gorgons do comprehend humanoid masculinity comes from gorgons in mated pairs who target men with particular ferocity, seemingly out of a concern that he may somehow seduce their mate away.

In most cases, however, the gorgon’s fear of cuckoldry seems to be unfounded. Most gorgons, even single ones, are far from eager to let a humanoid man fuck them, much preferring to take him down as prey. Even if a man manages to hold his own in combat against her, a monumental feat in its own right, this would normally encourage the gorgon to bring out her petrification breath rather than accept him sexually, as she would for another of her kind. Indeed, a gorgon is often utterly impossible for a man to safely fuck unless she is strongly restrained or beaten almost to unconsciousness. Still, a gorgon who has been completely defeated seems to not only take a man’s cock but actively tolerate and accept his attempts to breed her, suggesting that gorgons simply demand more from non-gorgon mates.

Thanks to the challenges of getting two gorgons to breed in captivity, getting a man to impregnate one instead can sometimes be the marginally easier solution for owners wishing to expand their herd or get a reliable supply of gorgon milk. Of course, thanks to the rarity of men, an owner must be either influential or lucky to gain such a resource. A man should be careful when offered such a chance. Though not always the case, most people in the business of breeding gorgons are of a cruel and violent disposition who may well enslave or imprison a man if they have the power to.

Males crop up among gorgons about as frequently as they do among humans, and as such, they are relatively well researched. For the most part, gorgon bulls act much like gorgon cows, hunting and killing near constantly, petrifying anything that seems too close to a match for them. Male gorgons even show what almost counts as monogamy, at least to the extent that female gorgons do, though a male will generally only stick with his cow for a couple of years before moving on to another, impregnating his mate at least once per year of partnership. However, if a male gorgon charges and manages to knock something down when he isn’t particularly hungry, he may decide to simply rape it with his huge iron cock instead of finishing it off. The offspring of other creatures fathered by gorgon bulls tend to be identifiable by a larger than average frame, thick (sometimes metal-plated) skin, resilience against petrification, and occasionally even iron horns. In terms of temperament, the sire of gorgons tends to be hot-headed, blunt, and direct, though not necessarily evil.

Chapter 141: Grell

A strange, aberrant creature, the exact origins of the grell are lost, save that they came from the Far Realm, likely slipping into reality in a manner akin to ticks on a creature far more terrible. Matching their foul origin, the grell have an alien appearance. The most straightforward description of a grell is akin to a human-sized, airborne, levitating jellyfish. In place of a bell, the grell possesses a body eerily similar to an engorged humanoid brain from which an avian beak emerges, and the tits that entry into Nymphona’s world burdened them with hang.

Completely eyeless, grell stalk the dark corners of ruins and caves in search of prey, be it vermin, beast, or unsuspecting adventurer. Grell are particularly at home in the Underdark, where their territories can expand nearly indefinitely, overlapping and merging with one another until they become shadowed fiefdoms wholly dedicated to expansion, consumption, and survival.

Blind Hunters

With no eyes to speak of, grell are completely sightless. They are, however, equipped with a range of other senses that allow them to navigate their environment and locate prey, particularly those who hope to hide in darkness. With no dependence on vision, darkness is no barrier to a grell tracking her prey.

Firstly, grell have particularly keen hearing; the entire surface of their brain-like body acts like a single eardrum. A careless utterance or rumble of disturbed rocks can echo through the tunnels and draw a grell from miles away. A grell, on the other hand, is an utterly silent creature, levitating without a sound; she disturbs nothing until the very moment she strikes. Though quiet, a grell’s flight is not blindingly fast. As such, as opposed to chasing down her prey, a grell prefers to listen out for activity and then creep forward, finding a hidden crevice from which to ambush prey as it approaches.

As prey approaches, a grell switches from primarily listening for it to using a far stranger sense. Covering a grell’s body, a series of nerve-like receptors pick up signals transmitted by the brains of all living things. Not quite mind-reading, a grell within around sixty feet of a creature can identify its shape, species, general mood, and the direction it currently perceives. In this way, by knowing exactly where the creatures she stalks are looking, a grell can slip around outside the range of its sight. As a coincidental benefit of this unique sensory structure, lightning spells and other forms of electrical power conduct straight through a grell’s body, doing her no harm at all.

When prey is detected, a grell usually prefers to pick on solitary or straggling individuals. At just the right moment, when unsuspecting, unwatched prey comes into reach, the grell lashes out with her tentecles. At the end of each of a grell’s ten elastic tentacles, she wields a cluster of sharp, retractable barbs, each loaded with paralytic venom. Assuming the prey is not immediately torn apart by the barbs, the venom usually makes them mute, immobile, and utterly helpless, letting the grell drag them away to safety before the victim’s allies even realise they are gone, finishing them off with her beak at her leisure.

Alien Colonists

Though adventurers are unlikely to see it in their interactions with them, grell are more than just mindless creatures. Grell are in fact fully sapient, intelligent beings, though of a kind quite different to most humanoids. Most of a grell’s intellect is dedicated to hunting tactics, forming ambushes and lures that can outsmart most people. Some grell will even use adventurers to their advantage, waiting for them to slay her rivals in an area before striking when they have been weakened from combat. When it comes to general knowledge, grell are usually able to pick up on local knowledge and arcane lore as it is useful to them. A grell with access to a magical item will likely use it with confidence, for example, but they can rarely be bothered to study things not pertinent to their immediate survival.

Though as intelligent as most humanoids, if not slightly more so in places, grell do not share human sociality. Most grell are fairly happy to live alone as nomadic hunters. Still, when in pursuit of challenging prey or in need of mutual protection, most grell are pragmatic enough to team up with others of their kind. In small numbers, anywhere from three to ten individuals, these groups are known as covens, where the grell work together on hunts and share knowledge with each other in their own squawking language.

As grell numbers grow, however, what starts as a handful of covens can grow into a small empire, ruled by a secretive council or a particularly powerful queen. Even as manpower grows, however, grell society, as far as it exists, does not expand beyond the simple dictates of hunt, feed, and colonise, simply expanding in scale. Where one grell may lie in ambush within a crevice and a coven may dismantle a trade caravan, empires organise silent invasions of Underdark settlements, using dozens of grell infiltrators to pick off inhabitants and feed the masses.

Though intelligent, grell are severely lacking in any complex philosophy or personal ethics. From a grell’s point of view, everything besides herself can be sorted into three categories: edible, inedible, and Great Eaters (those few creatures that can reliably make a meal of an incautious grell). The former two categories are completely literal by their definition; the thin bracket of inedible is largely reserved for inorganic, rotten, or outright toxic things; anything that can be eaten by a grell without health complications, a grell will all too happily eat.

In this way, grell hold intelligent creatures with the same estimation they do bats, rodents, and other edible vermin. Grell are smart enough to recognise that people are capable of being clever and dangerous and thus use due caution, but if she thinks she can get the drop on them, a grell has no concerns about causing the death and suffering of intelligent life other than herself. Even other grell are technically edible, by a grell’s estimation. Grell have no compunctions about cannibalism beyond the practical manner that a fight between two grell is a worryingly close thing to a fair fight. As long as there is easier prey around, grell will usually prefer to benefit from cooperation rather than eat each other immediately.

Sex and Sexuality Among Grell

When it comes to reproduction, grell are caught in two minds. On the one hand, in order to colonise new territory, there must be more grell to seize it. On the other hand, additional grell act as competition for prey, so having children may eventually make hunting harder. This balance tends to keep populations fairly stable, since grell breed more in areas where their numbers are low and less where their population reaches its capacity. While this does fortunately mean it is rare for grell to truly overrun an area, it also means that attempts to drive out or exterminate the aberrations can cause the numbers to rather violently bounce back as the survivors aggressively begin to repopulate.

Befitting their callous nature, grell have no real notions of love, romantic attraction, or lust. Grell are instead compelled by their desire to colonise, with breeding being a convenient method of doing so. When two grell who feel their population needs bolstering meet, they generally communicate this agreement and then have sex, fucking one another with their tentacles. Grell do seem capable of feeling sexual pleasure, but they don’t seem particularly interested in pursuing it for its own sake and don’t provide any more to their partners than is strictly necessary while mating.

When mating is complete, the two grell involved release one another, one or both being pregnant, with no obligation from either party to further assist or otherwise stay together. A few days after successful impregnation, a grell gives birth to one or two leathery sacs of eggs. The mother grell hides her eggs in a crevice or buried in rubble somewhere, and then proceeds to abandon them.

Depending on ambient conditions, the grell eggs can take anywhere from one to three months to develop, eventually hatching and biting their way out of their sacs in swarms of anywhere from ten to eighty larval grell. Grell are born looking almost identical to their adult forms, but in miniature, a newborn grell is generally around four inches long. Grell grow quickly, however, gaining bodies the size of human fists in only a week of emergence. Still, life is not easy for a young grell, for it is prey for many beasts, monsters, and even grell adults. Only a tiny fraction of grell survive their first year, in which they attain adult size.

Men to Grell

Being an aberrant, originally sexless being from the Far Realm who had tits and a pussy forced upon them on entry into Nymphona’s reality, grell are an all-female race. This fact has, however, seemed to have only a minimal influence on the grell’s perception of men. In general, most men share the same distinction in a grell’s mind as females of their kind. This makes grell classify most humanoid men as “edible,” though with the caveat that most men being consummate adventurers makes them more experienced with dungeon perils and thus should be hunted with slightly more caution.

Grell are not ignorant of the fact that men can impregnate them if allowed to have sex, but most grell see no reason to make use of this capability. From a grell’s perspective, inviting a male of another race to breed her invites too much risk. Such an invitation would necessitate coming out of cover and revealing herself, a highly perilous procedure against a creature who likely knows her as a predator of his kind. Even if a man does not immediately attack such a forward grell, he could use the relative vulnerability of mating to slay or capture her or make off with her egg sacs, thus completely wasting her endeavour.

As such, most grell find a man far more useful when he's allowed to slay or drive out rivals before trying to prey on him when he is tired, wounded, and inattentive. Impregnation is better left to other grell, who are unlikely to try and kill her as long as conditions are decent. Still, a grell who is hopelessly outmatched or defeated by a man is rarely all that resistant to being fucked by him. After all, grell generally know that most men have various hangups about killing things they’ve just fucked. Being nothing if not pragmatic, a grell usually decides it is better to be a man’s sex toy than dead. When pushed, a grell can even feign affection for a man to maintain his favour and mercy until the moment she can escape or kill him.

Chapter 142: Grick

A thick, wormlike being with clawed tentacles around a powerful beak, gricks are tenacious, indiscriminate predators who wiggle their way up and along stony cliffs and tunnels in search of fruitful spots to lay in wait for their prey, a bracket that generally includes anything except other gricks.

Despite their monstrous appearance and nature, gricks generally behave similarly to natural predators. Some sages and druids of the deep even go so far as to call gricks integral parts of the environment of the Underdark, alien as they may seem, serving a role similar to wolves and panthers on the surface. Though most prevalent underground, the threat a grick poses can never be fully discounted since they will occasionally show up and hunt on cliff sides, among the masonry of ruins, and practically anywhere there is stone to hide amongst.

Underdark Ambushers

Despite being a human-sized, alien-looking worm, a grick is a surprisingly stealthy monster when she wants to be. Though lacking claws or limbs besides their frontward tentacles, a grick’s flesh can bend and contort to act like a series of suction cups, thus letting the monstrosity squirm along walls and hang from ceilings out of the notice of more floor-bound prey.

Even if potential prey does think to look up, the grick’s body again hides her. Despite a rubbery texture, a grick’s hide is almost visually indistinguishable from stone, to the point where many drow and deep gnomes use grick hide drapes to camouflage secret entrances. On living gricks, this specially toned hide makes it hard for victims to distinguish the predator from the rock of the surrounding tunnel.

When prey gets close enough, the grick strikes. Attacking with its four tentacles, each tipped with a single bony claw, the grick not only rakes four gouges into her prey but also gains a brief but secure grip on a vulnerable area such as a flank, breast, or head. With its grip secured, the grick makes a surgical bite with its beak before the prey can shake it off. Most prey is immediately slain by the first bite, if not the tentacle claws, but if not, the grick will strike again and again, shrugging off counter strikes with its thick hide, able to severely diminish the effectiveness of most mundane weapons. Once the prey is slain, a grick drags it back to its nest, typically a small cave, to eat in safety from attack.

Though brutally efficient, gricks are not malicious or any more cognizant than a wolf or the like. Gricks hunt to eat and will just as readily target an animal or fellow monster as a person. When a grick does slay a sapient being, its interest is only in its flesh. Therefore, any inedible goods on the victim’s person, such as weapons, coins, and other treasures, tend to simply be left lying around the grick’s nest. Thanks to this, a well-used grick nest can sometimes contain a small fortune of valuables from the residents’ past victims. Of course, the gricks themselves present a reasonable barrier to anyone looking to attain that loot, so one must see to it that the gricks move on or die before gaining their treasure.

Nomadic Packs

While gricks can hunt alone, they often prefer and have more success hunting in packs. A grick pack typically consists of anywhere from four to ten gricks led by a single grick alpha, a grick whose might, hunting capabilities, or aggression nets her the lion’s share of kills and allows her to grow over double the average grick’s size. Grick alphas aren’t particularly capable of true leadership, but her might lets her lead the charge against bigger or more heavily armed prey and determine where the pack may hunt, lair, and set up ambush.

When a grick pack works together, they tend to employ simple but devastating tactics. Typically, gricks position themselves in ambush so that prey fleeing from one runs straight into the tentacles of another. eventually surrounding the target in all directions, including from above, the latter spot normally taken by the alpha, since her impressive length helps her reach down for prey from the ceilings of all but the widest tunnels. Gricks may also attack in waves, with significantly wounded individuals retreating and being replaced by uninjured ones.

With their voracious appetites, gricks can quickly drain prey from a cluster of tunnels, with local people and other creatures growing wise to their presence and changing their travel routes to avoid ambush sites. Though gricks will conserve energy by staying in the same area for a while, mixing up ambush areas to catch prey by surprise, the grick alpha will eventually decide that food is no longer plentiful enough for its tastes and lead the pack off to new, unsuspecting territory.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gricks

Living in the consistent climate of the Underdark, gricks can mate at pretty much any time. Mating is most common, however, when food is plentiful or the pack is small. In such situations, mating is usually initiated by the pack’s alpha. Being the biggest and most successful grick in the pack, the grick alpha represents an ideal parent for an ordinary grick’s eggs. As such, the alpha has the right to fuck and impregnate every other grick in the pack. If a pack has no alpha, the lack of pressure causes the strongest, most dominant grick to grow into a new alpha over the course of a few weeks, months, or a couple of years, depending on food availability.

A few weeks after being impregnated by the alpha, a grick lays one to six oblong eggs with blue-green shells, roughly the size of a human fist. These eggs are laid in the corners of a grick’s shared nest. Aside from the fearsome protection gricks afford their resting place, a mother grick offers little care to her eggs once they are laid, allowing them to sit virtually ignored until they hatch about two months later.

Young gricks, known as wormlings, tend to hover around the periphery of the adult grick pack. Starting out less than a foot long, grick wormlings start out hunting rats, bats, and various arthropods. Wormlings grow quickly, but they also make easy prey for grell and other Underdark hunters. Adult gricks will defend their juveniles if they happen to see an attack on them, but wormlings are for the most part alone, causing only a few to survive to adult size in their first year, starting to hunt with any grick pack they can join. Whether an adult grick continues to grow into an alpha depends on its aggression and hunting abilities, but also on if there is a vacancy. If an alpha is present in a grick pack, its extreme appetite will normally keep the other gricks too underfed to become alphas themselves.

Men to Gricks

Whether gricks can identify humanoid men as males is a topic of some debate. The general consensus among most Underdark scholars is that gricks can identify men but don’t care all that much. Most regular gricks are attracted to mates that are significantly larger and stronger than them without the risk of such an individual preying on them; specifically, they are attracted to grick alphas. Thus, while a grick may be able to tell that a man could impregnate her, she will see his body size as a signal that he is an inferior mate to a grick alpha of either sex, and she is better off rejecting any sexual advances from him and considering him as prey.

For the alphas, a humanoid male is not only too small to be worth getting pregnant with but also poses a serious threat to her own sexual dominance over her pack, with a man having the potential to mate with her gricks if he isn’t dealt with. For this reason, grick alphas are thought by some to be especially aggressive towards men, though it is hard to tell if an alpha truly sees the man she attacks as a sexual rival or merely as ordinary prey.

Persuading a grick of any kind to mate is normally an exercise in futility. With gricks inflexibly seeing people as prey, a man who wants to try his hand at fucking one will usually have to knock her out or restrain her first. Thankfully, most of the dangerous parts of a grick are on her front end, away from her pussy. Though one must be careful not to let her boneless body wriggle free, a grick whose head is secured is generally safe to fuck. A grick alpha’s raw strength makes even strikes from her unarmed tail dangerous, so she should be held much more securely.

Though rare, male gricks are born from time to time. Thanks to the dominance their lust inspires in them, most male gricks that make it to adulthood quickly grow to become alphas as soon as the space becomes available. From that point, with a whole pack of gricks to fuck, the male grick alpha has no reason to go looking for more mates and is free to treat most other creatures as prey. Still, male gricks are known to force themselves on other kinds of creatures, including humanoid women, on occasion. The result of these unions is usually a member of the mother’s kind with earthy or even stony skin tones.

Chapter 143: Griffon

Whether a form of naturally arisen monstrosity or the result of some forgotten spellcaster’s wild experiments into arcane crossbreeding, the origins of the griffon are a mystery lost to the grand expanses of time. Artificial or not, griffons have settled almost naturally into their environments. A griffon can happily reign over most unconfined environments, so long as they can fly through the open sky, but they most prefer areas with high cliffs, where they can nest, and open plains, where they can spot roaming prey from above.

In form, the griffon is famously the elegant melding of two natural beasts. The griffon’s head, wings, and taloned forelegs are those of a giant eagle. The rest of the griffon’s body, its breasts and hindquarters, along with the monster’s general shape and size, are much more akin to a lioness’. From both its constituent animals, the griffon receives its fearsome hunting instinct.

Horse Hunters

Highly territorial creatures, willing to tear unfamiliar griffons apart should they cross the barrier into their home range, griffons tend to hunt either alone or in a small group, known as a pride. This group generally consists of only a single mated pair and a few of their more mature fledgelings, old enough to fly and fight but still not prepared to strike out alone.

Purely carnivorous, griffons hunt for their food. Though they are able to fly with great skill and speed, griffons generally don’t hunt for airborne creatures, excluding a few exceptions. Instead, griffons scan the land beneath them with their keen eyes, alerting each other with piercing screeches should they spot suitable prey.

Griffons will target most reasonably sized herbivorous creatures; deer, antelope, sheep, and wild cattle are usually all on the menu. However, griffons seem to have a powerful and inexplicable preference for the flesh of horses. This preference extends to all manner of other equines, including ponies, asses, and even various horse-like monsters such as the presumably related hippogriff. Griffons tend to strike from above, using their aerial agility to keep pace with their prey and strike them down with their mighty beaks and claws.

Most griffons have little interest in preying on humanoids unless they are truly desperate. Many griffons are even known to turn their beaks up at humanoid flesh presented directly to them. This does not make griffons entirely safe to be around, of course. Most any flying thing larger than a common eagle can trigger a griffon’s territorial instincts; thus, adventurers that find means to fly through her territory can expect to be treated as rivals.

A more common danger comes to travellers and ranchers when the griffons attack their steeds, pack animals, and livestock. If allowed to take a horse or pack mule, griffons tend to leave any people present alone. If one chooses to defend their animals, however, they will soon find themselves facing the full predatory wrath of a griffon or, possibly, her pride.

Noble Steeds

Wild griffons are uncontrollable, fearsome creatures, and while they are unlikely to attack a person unprovoked, they take little provocation to lash out at anyone foolish enough to harass them. However, if raised from hatching by people, they can be tamed, in a manner of speaking. Attaining a griffon egg is easier said than done. Griffons build their nests out of sticks, rocks, and bones in great aeries atop high cliffs. Anything that flies this deep into griffon territory will be perceived as a rival and attacked as such, while climbers who alarm the parents by getting too close can expect to be thrown off the mountain at their climb’s most treacherous point.

Once a griffon egg is attained and hatched, taming the monstrosity is not a sure thing. Griffons are temperamental and fearsome creatures to train; it normally takes a lifelong professional griffon trainer to reign in a young griffon’s aggression and bond her to her intended mistress, the only one whom she will follow the orders of and allow to ride on her back. A tame griffon is fiercely loyal to her rider and nobody else, to the point that she will refuse to take another griffon as her mate.

Thanks to the combined influences of the impossibility of breeding griffons in captivity, the danger involved in gathering wild griffon eggs, and the expense of both training and sufficient horse meat to feed them, rearing griffons is not a cheap endeavour. Griffon riders are thus most often wealthy individuals, born of noble stock, making the noble linage of griffon knights a grand symbol of noble bravery or decadence, depending on who you ask.

The advantages afforded to a griffon rider in battle cannot be overstated, however. Using both the griffon’s aerial mobility and natural weapons, a griffon knight can easily outmanoeuvre and overpower most foes. Normally raised from a young age to fight astride a griffon, most griffon knights are astute masters of mounted combat, able to make full use of their exotic steed’s aggressive combat style. Griffons also have a marked advantage against regular cavalry. As well as being able to simply fly over a normal cavalry charge, the sight or even scent of a griffon causes panic in even the most hardened warhorses. In the face of a mounted griffon, it is not uncommon for regular steeds to bolt, swerve, or even buck their rider.

Sex and Sexuality Among Griffons

In the wild, griffons generally start looking for a mate at around three years of age, at which time they fly from their parent’s territory and start looking for their own place to live. This period is a highly dangerous time for a young griffon; not only is she inexperienced and alone, but she will constantly have to dodge between the territories of established griffons and other flying predators like perytons, manticores, and dragons. When lone griffons run into each other, they tend to treat each other with similar aggression to start with. A female griffon cannot be too selective with her mate, for once they are chosen, the partnership is for life.

Settling down in a territory together, a pair of griffons tend to mate only once every two or so years, with only the larger of the two usually getting pregnant. After only fifteen or so days of gestation, the griffon gives birth in her clifftop nest, laying a clutch of one to three speckled avian eggs, each around ten inches long and seven inches wide at its thickest part. Taking turns to incubate and guard these eggs, the two griffon parents look after their eggs for about one hundred days. Unlike many egg-laying monsters, newly hatched griffons depend on their mother’s breast milk for the first month or so of their lives.

Taking over half a year to get big and strong enough to fly, griffon cubs are essentially stranded on their elevated aeries, relying on their parents to bring food to them. Though fledged at around six months old, it generally takes a griffon another year before it can truly be of any assistance hunting. Since griffons don’t leave the nest until they are about three, long-established griffons tend to have a handful of subadult offspring hanging around who help bring down prey, fight off rivals, and care for their parent’s eggs.

It is thought that the reason griffons cannot usually breed in captivity is because the loyalty a tame griffon shows to its mistress is the bond that would naturally be given to their one and only mate. Despite what one may expect from this relationship, it is very rare for a griffon to attempt to sexually present herself to her female rider. Most cultures also frown upon women trying to fuck their griffons as well.

Though seemingly content to not have sex with their rider, griffons do show a small amount of jealousy and protectiveness. Many griffon knights find that their steeds dislike their spouses, reacting with hostility to their scent or their presence. While most tame griffons are well trained enough to not assault their mistress’ loved ones, most griffon riding traditions stress the importance of keeping the activity separate from one’s personal and romantic life, just in case.

Men to Griffons

Like many creatures, griffons seem well able to differentiate males and females by sight. In general, griffons do not treat men all that differently from women. However, they may treat a man slightly differently if directly presented with him; the exact nature of this response depends on their partnership status.

The bond a female griffon has with her mate is so powerful that she will never commit infidelity against them, not even with a man. Mated griffons also watch each other for signs of disloyalty, so a man capable of impregnating her has less to fear from the griffon closest to him and more from her mate.

Since the relationship tame griffons have with their riders is based on the kind wild griffons have with their mates, they tend to have a similar reaction when men get involved with their mistresses. A man interacting with a griffon rider can expect great distrust from her steed, whether he intends to be sexual or not. Thanks to this disfavour, many orders of griffon knights have entrenched traditions of at least mild misandry.

On the other hand, while single griffons do not go out looking for men to fuck them, they do seem to recognise a man’s capacity to breed them. There are stories of men having defeated young griffons in combat, only for them to return, presenting themselves as a mate for him. Once this recognition has been achieved, a man’s griffon will never leave his side and will be ready to fuck him and bare his cubs at near enough any time.

Since men can impregnate griffons, a man pairing with a griffon is one of the few ways to breed griffons in captivity. Some orders of griffon riders seek to take advantage of this partnership, sometimes offering men they see as trustworthy a griffon companion so long as he gives the eggs to them. Other orders, in line with their distrust of men, call the practice of breeding griffons with men cheating in the most perverse way, asserting that griffons born from such unions must be somehow inferior to those whose eggs were taken from the wild.

Male griffons, when they occur, do not have quite the same monogamous goals as females. Instead, a male griffon tends to sexually dominate the pride it is born into, becoming the mate of his parents and sisters, along with any single griffon females that show up in his territory. As this results in a massive spike in breeding, griffon prides led by a male grow large and cover territories to match.

Not content with his own kind, a male griffon normally goes on to fuck and breed anything he and his pride can overpower, which he doesn’t consider food. Likely candidates can include manticores, chimaeras, and perytons. A male griffon will also land atop terrestrial creatures like lions, wolves, bears, and even people in order to fiercely breed them before taking off and leaving as suddenly as he arrived.

Attempts to tame male griffons rarely go well. In the wild, fully grown griffon males fight against domestication just as fiercely as females do. While the rare occasion that a stolen egg has hatched a male often seems to go well at first, it does not take long for the griffon to grow up and claim his trainer, intended rider, fellow mounts, and every other noblewoman and servant girl in his vicinity as his personal breeding sluts.

When other creatures are impregnated by a male griffon, their offspring usually possess only subtle clues as to their father’s identity. Physically, many have piercing avian eyes and golden hair or fur. Emotionally, many children of male griffons are bold and decisive, with loyalty that is hard to win but unlosable once given. Some orders of griffon riders take signs of griffon blood in their family heritage with pride, considering themselves to be an extension of their regal mount’s kind. Others view the marks as ones of shame, testaments to times when their ancestors lost control over a griffon and became beholden to the creature’s lust.

Chapter 144: Grimlock

In hidden corners of the Underdark and, on rare occasions, on the surface in the dead of the darkest nights, humanoid figures skulk through the shadows. With skin that blends perfectly into the rock of their subterranean home, grimlocks strike from seemingly nowhere. Despite their total blindness, grimlocks can track and sense their prey with expert precision, finding enemies that even the light-sensitive eyes of drow would overlook.

On most occasions, grimlocks act in the name of simple, primitive survival. A person found and assaulted by grimlocks is likely to simply be slain for their flesh. However, thanks to their easily impressionable minds, forged by the grim matter of their creation, grimlocks can often be found serving more advanced evils, be they mortal, monstrous, or completely otherworldly. A poor soul captured by such indentured grimlocks can likely expect to find themselves confined to a fate serving the machinations of these enigmatic mistresses.

Primal Cave Dwellers

Despite appearances, grimlocks were once humans, driven underground by persecution, enslavement, and a variety of other unfortunate events. Though their origins are varied, all grimlocks are united by the path of degeneration they suffered over their multiple lifespans of cave living. With skin turned palid and grey from a life without sunlight, grimlocks can blend seamlessly into a stone wall when creeping along it. A grimlock’s grey or black hair is usually long and sparce, while her teeth are usually long and sharklike, helping to tear into any meal they can get their hands on.

The most notable physical trait of the grimlocks is, however, their eyes, or, more accurately, their lack thereof. Over generations of darkness, the eyes of the original humans atrophied to the point of uselessness, finally disappearing entirely; the part of their face originally meant for eyesight is now a blank patch of slate-coloured skin. Completely eyeless, grimlocks make up for their lack of sight with their other, vastly improved senses, particularly their sense of hearing and smell.

With scent and sound combined, grimlocks can sense their immediate surroundings just as accurately as a sighted being, without the inconvenience of having one’s vision obscured in darkness and obstacles or betrayed by illusions. Grimlocks also use their senses to maintain secrecy, murmuring so softly that only other grimlocks can hear their words and leaving odour-based signals that only their noses can detect and decipher. Even beyond this range of pinpoint accuracy, grimlocks can still detect and track creatures with alarming ease.

With the scarcity of food and other resources in the Underdark, grimlocks have a culturally enforced selfishness that drives them to claim and devour anything they can eat. Much of a grimlock’s diet will consist of edible mushrooms, grown in foetid fungus patches. However, if there is a chance of having meat, grimlocks will eagerly hunt for it, beating creatures to death with spiked clubs made from crudely fashioned bone. Despite retaining some intelligence and often being able to speak Undercommon, few grimlocks are above the consumption of other humanoids or even each other if they think they can get away with it.

Beyond basic agriculture and tool-making for subsistence, grimlocks are limited in their technological and cultural development. Despite the prevalence of ore in their underground homes, grimlocks are ignorant of the art of metalworking and fearful of fire. They eat their meat raw and craft the weapons and tools they require out of rocks, along with the hide and bones of their prey.

Grimlocks tend to have crude, practical, and cruel customs. Clothes, when worn, tend to be little more than belts and harnesses to hang tools off of. Art tends to be mounds of reeking offal and grunting murmurs in place of songs. The weak and old are slain ritualistically, and captives are likewise sacrificed in dark rituals, often beyond their blind practitioner’s ken.

Thralls in the Dark

While grimlocks can be traced back to a number of distinct origins, the most common history is that the human ancestors of a grimlock tribe were the captives of a mind flayer colony. Keeping them as both servants and a ready supply of food, many sages suspect the mind flayers intentionally accelerated their prisoners’ degeneration into grimlocks, both out of convenience in cave navigation and to discourage them from ever fleeing to the surface, erasing in a few short generations any memory of light.

Even as they escaped or were abandoned, the grimlocks retained memories of their illithid mistresses, of their cruelty, their terror, and their power most of all. Equating personal power with survival, grimlocks willfully try to attain connection with their old abusers in order to extract even a little power from association. Grimlocks living out on their own tend to enact poorly understood mimicries of the mind flayer’s lifestyle, collecting magic items they have no idea how to use, gathering cracked skulls and the like in an imitation of medical samples for research, and speaking quietly enough to imitate telepathy. The champions of grimlock tribes, in charge of the others, are even known to eat brains in preference to other meals. When actual mind flayers happen across grimlocks, it does not take long for the latter to return to their old ways, not only serving the illithids as thralls but also becoming raiders, striking out at Underdark caravans and even surface settlements in search of captives for their mistresses.

Without mind flayers to rule over them, the naturally subservient state of grimlocks makes them both fearful and compliant to a wide array of more powerful forces of evil than themselves. On the more mundane side of things, drow and duergar will occasionally enslave grimlocks as manual labourers and moderately loyal brutes. Most of the time, however, these races find the grimlocks’ poor average intelligence and unpleasant countenance to be more trouble than their worth and simply treat them as dangerous vermin.

The grimlock desire to attain power through service to a greater evil also makes them an attractive prospect to fiends of all stripes. Demons and devils alike will sometimes send emissaries to frighten grimlocks into compliance and then offer them generally trivial prizes in exchange for their eternal loyalty. So bound up, these cults perform dreadful sacraments to their new masters, aping instructions handed down from the fiends, gathering artefacts, striking against the forces that oppose them, and sacrificing victims to ruinous ends of which the grimlocks likely cannot even conceive.

Sex and Sexuality Among Grimlocks

Grimlocks are, when it comes to sex, simultaneously passionate but also cold and unfeeling. For grimlocks, fucking is an activity that can be used to not only receive physical pleasure but also exert power. Far from a romantic overture, a grimlock looking to mate usually does so aggressively, chasing down her desired partner and violently forcing her into submission, whether for a one-off, spur-of-the moment instance of rape or to fully break down her resistance and force her into a form of sexual slavery.

Since it often requires a great deal of violence, intimidation, and savagery to gain power over another grimlock, the number of so-called “wives” a grimlock can maintain often feeds into the estimation of that grimlock’s strength and thus her social standing in the tribe’s primitive hierarchy. Being a high-ranking grimlock’s bride does not afford much benefit to a lesser grimlock. A dominant grimlock will fight off those that try to steal her "wives,” but she otherwise cares little for them, regularly abusing them to keep them in line and not caring when they get pregnant.

Pregnancy for a grimlock is somewhat rapid, lasting only six months and often resulting in twins. A grimlock must continue to hunt and look out for herself while pregnant or nursing, lest she be slain for her weakness. Thankfully, Grimlock children also age rapidly, becoming independent at only three years old. This rapid life cycle was likely introduced by the mind flayers, not only to help the grimlocks breed faster than the harsh environment can kill them but also to maintain a swiftly regenerating livestock herd.

Despite all their differences, the familial separation between humans and grimlocks is only very slight in the grand scheme of things. Thanks to this, female humans and grimlocks can technically interbreed, as can grimlocks and other races that humans can cross-breed with, such as orcs and elves. The offspring of grimlocks and other humanoids tend to retain some of their degenerate traits, having poor eyesight but improved smell and hearing, though rarely to the degree of full-blooded grimlocks. However, most female grimlocks seem disinterested in breeding outside of their own kind, except on a few notable occasions.

Outside of mating with other humanoids, fiends are sometimes known to call upon grimlock cultists to serve them sexually. From such a union, the devil or demon hopes to impregnate the creature with a fast-growing, cave-adapted half-fiend, such as a tiefling or cambion, born to symbolise the fiend’s power over the grimlock tribe and enact her wicked will.

Men to Grimlocks

Though unable to see, grimlocks can generally differentiate males from females of any kind of creature or being they are familiar with from around ten paces away, apparently able to smell a subtle difference in the natural odour they produce. Most grimlocks find men somewhat startling, but the exact nature of their feelings is usually shaped by the history of what their tribe has been subjected to.

A tribe that is currently or has recently been under the thrall of duergar and drow, for instance, will likely have learned that men are troublesome or heretical, and the only correct response is to immediately slay them. Even beyond such influences, grimlocks usually figure that a man will likely be experienced in defending himself, defiant of attempts to dominate him, and possibly interested in raping them. As such, grimlocks, particularly those in charge with many “wives” to be poached, conclude that men are dangerous and should be either avoided or eliminated with swiftness.

That being said, grimlocks naturally capitulate to shows of might and, as such, can be bullied into submission with sufficient ferocity and power in combat. A clearly bested grimlock will usually try to flee, with no thoughts for her loyalties or allies. However, if captured by a dominant male, even the most previously high-ranking grimlock will swiftly give herself up to his cock. If this relationship is maintained, a grimlock can adapt more fully to her role as a man’s personal slut, taking her position of being “chosen” by such a powerful individual as grounds for greater superiority among her own kind.

Being descended from humans, grimlocks share their ancestors’ slightly higher male birthrate. When enslaved, the natural drive of these men to wander and escape, along with the various man-hating cultures that tend to enslave grimlocks, many of these men must either flee their kind or be slain before they can have any real impact. When a male grimlock is allowed to grow with relatively little persecution, he tends to show a domineering nature as he grows. Using this drive, he tends to sexually dominate all the grimlock in his tribe, causing their numbers to explode as he breeds them, gradually turning them into a roaming subterranean army, constantly on the hunt for food but also captives to make into their male champion’s breeding slaves.

Chapter 145: Hags

 

Ancient and cruel, hags bear a passing resemblance to elderly humanoid women. These crones, however, are by no means feeble and are internally nothing like any mere mortal. Under their gnarled and wrinkled skin, hags are in fact strange and mystical fey, primal incarnations of all that is malicious and foul. Regardless of their stated intentions, the ultimate goal of any hag is to revel in the misery and distress of other beings.

Hags can be found dwelling in a great number of places, their very presence twisting them into dark, foreboding locales. Suiting their widespread presence, hags come in a wide variety of ghastly forms. Some say that each type of hag forms its own distinct linage, a dark matriline that traces its roots deep into the Feywild’s ancient past. Others say that hags can wilfully change from one type to another, gradually adapting to the given environment or engaging in some forbidden ritual to warp their flesh. The most influential kinds of hags, the green, night, and sea hags, will each have a chapter dedicated to themselves specifically, but this chapter discusses hags overall.

Ugly and Cruel

With rough skin, crooked teeth, clawed hands, and an overall crooked appearance, hags are not the most attractive of creatures. This is a fact that hags take great pride in, for it is in the hideous and unappealing that hags find the most joy. In service to this perception, hags not only avoid personal beautification whenever they can, but indeed take steps to increase their foulness, leaving their long hair filthy and unkempt, dressing in the most tattered and disgusting of garment, and taking pains to enhance their already hideous features.

Beyond their appearance, hags extend their unpleasantries to every facet of their lives. Hags make their homes in dilapidated huts, run down mausoleums, and other morbid locales, decorated with varnished eyes, hanging bones, and other such distasteful décor, all guarded by a menagerie of monstrous pets.  

Conversely, what most people would call beautiful evokes the deepest disgust in a hag, and possessing beauty in a hag’s sight may sometimes be crime enough to draw her ire. A hag may simply set upon the beauty with her razor-sharp claws, removing eyes, tongues, and other features until the victim is “cured” of their natural charm. Otherwise, a hag may conjure fourth great magical power onto the object of their revulsion, laying upon them a curse or transforming them into a toad, rat, or other creature more in line with her tastes.

It is not only the attractive that have to fear hags, however. Hags are as vile within as they are without. Unless they have made somebody feel despair, terror or at least mild revulsion, a hag simply cannot be happy. Wise from a potentially endless life and unabashedly arrogant about the fact, hags believe themselves to be the single most capable beings in existence, even compared to goddesses, against whom they delight in blaspheming. Even when a hag must admit that her foe is stronger, she will remain utterly convinced of her ability to outwit and circumvent their will at every turn. Compared to the high and mighty, goddesses, great fiends, and archfey, hags consider the manipulation of mortals to be mere child’s play.

For want of entertainment, hags often present themselves to mortals as bargain makers, spreading through rumours that they can offer valuable knowledge and arcane gifts to those that seek them out, requesting strange yet ultimately paltry things in return. Slowly but surely, these whispers bring the desperate and foolish to the hag’s door, ready to plead with her for some manner of assistance.

However, while devils may barter for a mortal’s soul, and genies may offer their services for favours returned, a hag’s only goal when she bargains is to ensure that ultimately, the mortal she bargains with comes out more miserable than they were before. A love potion may slowly turn one’s lover into a shell of the person one fell for, a revived family member may come at the cost of the complete erasure of their memory of you, and a secret so desperately sought may, when delivered with a hag’s precisely measured lack of tact, bring naught but loss and despair. All of these endings bring the hag that set them up no end of sick amusement.

Hag Covens

While a hag sees mortals as mere dupes to toy with and more powerful beings as obstacles to outwit and overcome, other hags serve as her only true rivals. Never fully trusting one another, hags tend to live a ways apart from each other, no less than a days walk if they can help it and preferably more. Despite this separation, hags are always ravenous for news concerning their neighbours, often sending out lesser fey and other small creatures to act as spies and couriers. News of a fellow hag’s failures tickles a hag’s own sense of greatness, news of success, on the other hand, drives her to outdo her neighbour’s evil. Technically, hags follow a system where younger hags are meant to respect the wisdom of their elders, but this is generally only followed on a very superficial level or when the younger wants to suck up for some ancient wisdom. Short of killing one another, most hags are all too happy to plot towards the downfall of others of their kind.

Despite their extreme self-centredness, hags do recognise the power of cooperation. To that end, hags employ or, more accurately, bully into service various brutes and lackeys, such as ogres, trolls, and goblinoids to fight her battles and carry out her whims, along with a variety of monstrous pets and magically afflicted vermin swarms to assault intruders and keep her company. When it comes to matters of magic and wisdom, however, hags rarely trust the wisdom of any creature appart from their own kind. Therefore, to cast the most powerful of spells and enact the darkest of rituals, hags must turn to each other, forming alliance known as a coven.

A hag coven is composed always of three members, no more, no less, a requirement stemming from many places. In the odd lore of the hags, three is a number of deep significance, auspicious things come in threes, and trios, be they of heroes, villains, or even inanimate artifacts, tend to hve the greatest influence on the course of history. More practically, hag covens consist of three members because that is the smallest number where disagreements can always, at least theoretically, be solved. When two hags in a coven argue, the third member can cast the deciding vote and thus settle the matter. When more than three coven’s gather, the resulting arguments and competitions in villainy tend to throw the surrounding area into chaos.

Beyond its number, each coven is set up rather uniquely. A hag coven can be composed of any three hags, of any combination of types, a long as they all agree to its founding. In extreme cases, such as in the event of a member’s death and replacement, a coven may even include a non hag member, so long as they show a decent magical aptitude and lack of morals, as an oni or evil mortal spellcaster may. Regardless of strength and origin, hags in a coven depend on each other to attain the height of their magical power and therefore, all members are equal in the coven. To support this, hag covens run on a system of esoteric laws. A coven may meet on every third new moon or similar, favours are repaid with favours, and any oath made to a coven sister is binding, so long as the hag that made it didn’t do so with fingers crossed.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hags

Though immortal and vile, hags are filled with the passion and virile spirit that most all fey share. However, like all things in a hag’s being, sexuality is usually expressed by her in a way that is hurtful and upsetting to those who become aware of it. For most female creatures, the appearance of a hag is unpleasant enough to make the very concept of having sex with her unappealing at best and traumatising at worst. This fact delights hags, who, lacking any form of shame around their own hideousness or sexuality, will use both with the surgical precision that will most upset whoever is unfortunate enough to talk to her.

Hags frequently make blunt sexual remarks, dress in incomplete rags, and participate in unabashed shows of lust in front of seemingly anyone. In truth, however, she saves the brunt of her lechery for those who are chaste, innocent, or prudish, just as she would save her cruellest insults for the insecure and her most terrifying scares for the fearful. When a hag feels that lust is the best way to emotionally harm a victim, she will force as much on them as the power she has over them can allow. An acquaintance or simple visitor may simply receive the displeasure of her crude inuendo and unflattering states of undress. A prisoner or desperate supplicant, on the other hand, may be given a night of sexually pleasuring her as the price for their freedom or reward, sending them on their way with a degree of shame and trauma that arguably outweighs the boon she gave in exchange.

Even when it doesn’t grant them much in exchange, hags do enjoy having sex greatly, being greedy and unfettered sexual partners. When fucking for their own benefit, however, hags prefer to fuck creatures as ugly as they are. Not trusting their fellow hags not to betray them in such a sensitive position, hags generally prefer dumber creatures such as giant kin, monsters, and less charming humanoids as their lovers, normally being bullied or beguiled into such a roll by her with and menace.

Interestingly, hags can be impregnated by nearly any of these creatures, giving birth after just under a year of pregnancy. However, hags can only naturally impregnate a handful of humanoid races in return. In either case, the resultant offspring is not a hag but a fey-blooded mortal known as a hexblood, identifiable by forked ears, vibrant skin tones, and a natural crown of plant matter. If allowed to grow up, a hexblood has all the moral freedom granted to most mortals and can thus potentially reject its mother’s wicked ways. Unfortunately, thanks to the nature of true hag reproduction, few hexbloods born in this way get the chance to forge their own path.

When a hag wants to make more hags, she first must attain a mortal infant, sometimes her own but more often the baby of an unfortunate mortal mother, snatched away from its cradle in the dead of night. With nothing in the way of remorse, the hag devours the babe. Over the course of several days after this dreadful act, the hag’s womb swells, rapidly going through the stages of pregnancy before suddenly going into labour and birthing what looks for all the world to be the exact child she consumed, seemingly no worse for its apparent demise. Sometimes, the hag raises the child as her own; other times, the hag returns the infant to their grieving parents and watches from the shadows. While the child looks normal at first, she will, as she ages, start to develop cruel and manipulative tendencies. All of this will come to a head on the night of her thirteenth birthday, where, at the stroke of midnight, the child will transform into the spitting image of her hag mother.

Men to Hags

Being so brimming with improper lust, hags do understand and appreciate the great amounts of pleasure that riding a cock can bring. However, hags generally also dislike how rare it is for her appearance to be sufficient for a man to find laying with her unpleasant and the arrogance of men who feel that they have “conquered” her. As such, a hag’s preferred male is one that she can more easily control. Namely, most hags prefer men who are too unintelligent or bestial to stand up to their own dominance.

While some hags will draw away a beloved stallion or prized breeding bull for their own use, most would rather fuck more distasteful males, such as snarling wolves, squawking vultures, and even little creatures like male rats, toads, and insects, the hag greatly enjoying the dismay of guests and foes alike as she births swarms of writhing vermin before them, all mysteriously under her mystical control. Even some male monsters and giant kin are known to bow to a hag’s lust on occasion.

When it comes to more intelligent men, hags tend to divide them into two groups: men who already fill women with dread from their rapacious and abusive nature, whose exploits are fun to watch and facilitate, and those men who inspire delight and affection in women, whom a hag will take great pleasure in humiliating, manipulating to her own ends, destroying, or gradually transforming into the former type of man.

When the hag herself does deign to fuck such a man, she normally does her utmost to make him feel like he is not in control of the situation, that he has not succeeded at changing the hag one jot, nor has he earned her admiration. Sex with a hag for a man virtually always feels like the culmination of her machinations, not his. Laying with her feels seems like a feat that would be impossible if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to happen—a sarcastically demoralising reward for doing exactly what she wanted them to do, whether they intended to or not. The only times a hag will appear submissive or affectionate to a man is if she feels her life is in genuine danger otherwise or if she has some great plan to manipulate him. In either case, such behaviour from a hag should put a man on high alert.

Given the already extreme perversion of female hags, it stands to reason that a male hag may be the very champion of sex in its darkest light—an entity of rape, humiliation, and complete depersonalisation of those he claims. Thankfully, however, hags are one of the select few kinds of fey who are all female. Hags only ever take female babies to eat for the purposes of birthing more of their kind, and the babies are always reborn as the same sex. Whether hags do this because they know the transformation would fail with a baby boy or because even they fear being caught up in the rapacious dominion of a male of their kind is unknown.

Chapter 146: Green Hag (Art)

Found dwelling in putrid swamps and the dark corners of twisted forests, whenever the average mortal is asked to envision a hag, it is normally some storybook depiction of a green hag that comes to mind. Named for their sickly green hide, green hags have fearsome teeth, ground into points on millstones, and razor-sharp claws, able to split flesh at a touch. Most dangerous of all, however, are a green hag’s cunning and sense of dark whimsy.

Known for their subtlety, the presence of a green hag is normally a rumour rather than a fact. Staying out of sight until the very moment she wants to be seen, the green hag still pulls the strings in her domain, acting and acquiring information through underlings such as manipulated debtors, duped thugs like ogres and goblinoids, and magically controlled vermin, ravens, rats, and toads, especially.

Untraceable Fey

Though wickedly fond of manipulating and tormenting others, green hags like to have guests only on their own terms. The squalid lair of a green hag may be a cave accessed by a barely visible hole among the roots of a gnarled tree. Another hag's abode may be at the end of a flooded tunnel, since green hags breathe brackish water just as well as they can air. Some green hags have more traditional homes, shacks, hovels, and cottages, but these are usually masked by illusion, protected by impassable foliage, or have the means to move under their own power, actively dodging unwelcome guests.

Green hags can also discourage explorers more actively. Thanks to her inherent fey magic, a green hag can weave simple illusions on the fly, creating perturbing images that resemble fearsome beasts and other frightening things. To add life to these images, a green hag can use her remarkable voice, able to imitate any person or natural sound she is familiar with, making the noises of various bloodthirsty monsters and other distasteful echoes. Conversely, when a green hag does want a person to approach, she can imitate calls for help or summon forth illusory treasures or treats that may lead her mark along. The latter trick works especially well on children, whom she may kidnap as servants or simply devour for the sake of the misery her actions may bring to the youths and their families.

Sometimes, a green hag wishes to venture out of her demesne to enact her own plans or see notable events for herself. To avoid interference on these excursions or escape hairy situations, green hags can simply turn invisible using a deceptive magic so complete that it not only obscures the hag but also all traces of her passage, making her utterly unfindable by mundane means.

Often, however, a green hag isn’t looking to passively observe or make a clean getaway, but to actively interfere with the lives of others while staying incognito. In these cases, a green hag can use her illusory magic to make herself appear to be someone entirely different. While the illusions of a green hag can conceivably make her look like any humanoid she desires, she usually takes on forms that go against typical standards of beauty, such as a weathered crone, a homely strumpet, or a disfigured beggar. Not only does this let the disguised hag maintain the ugliness on which all hags pride themselves, but such forms also keep the hag below the estimation of most people.

As people have gotten wiser to the preferences of disguised green hags, they have caused in some folks an inherent distrust in the aged, unattractive, and deformed—groups of generally harmless and vulnerable individuals. In extreme cases, this distrust has boiled over into paranoia that leads to self-proclaimed “witch hunters” punishing or even executing completely innocent individuals due to their classically unappealing form. Such tragic shows of hate and ignorance can eventually tear a community apart at the seams, much to the real hag’s delight.

Makers of Tragedies

While any misery among other people makes a hag happy, green hags are specifically entertained by the subversion of fate and the loss of hope and innocence. The two star-crossed lovers who never met, the messenger who became lost on the way to deliver a message of peace, and noble heroes turned towards evil and selfishness are some of a green hag’s favourite stories, and they are seldom content to simply sit around and wait for them to happen.

Often plotting the downfall of others years or even decades in advance, a green hag normally worms herself or her agents into positions where they can influence the coming events. A missed communication here and a piece of dubious advice there can often be sufficient, with a hag’s great wisdom, to bring a kingdom to ruin. Just as often, a hag lets her mark come to her—desperate souls who are willing to risk bargaining with a hag. At best, that poor dupe may have their problem solved in exchange for another, worse one that doesn’t become apparent until much later. In the worst case, a green hag may turn an innocent, if foolish, person into a pawn for yet more evil as the hag sculpts them into a miserable wretch who is hopelessly dependent on her “guidance” and is thus deep in her debt.

Often, a green hag specifically sculpts the misery her targets suffer to be ironic, or darkly poetic at the very least. A woman desperately trying for a baby may receive a potion from a green hag that does the trick but ultimately causes the child to grow up uncontrollably wicked, bringing its mother nothing but misery. A fearful soldier who requests protection in battle may receive a curse that has all of her loved ones die in her place. A ruler who wishes never to be forgotten may be duped into a ritual that unleashes a great evil, making her name forever known as the one that doomed her kingdom.

As a slight silver lining, a green hag’s obsession with following the tropes of various tales often means that they often have hangups around various tropes, even when conforming to them disadvantages her. A curse laid by a green hag may be undone by true love’s kiss; a fey artefact in a green hag's possession may be activated by an obvious thematic phrase; and even though a green hag will gladly cheat at any game or wager she is challenged to, it is rare for her to turn such a challenge down, and if she is squarely beaten in such a contest despite her duplicity, she is likely to back off to sulk and plot later revenge rather than renege on whatever deal was originally struck.

Sex and Sexuality Among Green Hags

Fitting for the archetypical hag, most green hags are completely unbound from any hangups around sex and lewdness. Possessing both fey fertility and a complete lack of concern for the judgement and comfort of others, green hags dedicate most any moment not dedicated to evil or their own immediate survival to satisfying their own lust. Ideally, a green hag will do the former in such a way that also satisfies her desires to do one of the latter two activities.

Green hags intentionally dress in clothes that have mouldered to the point of providing essentially no modesty. Though their breasts hang out of their rags, they pay it no mind, so they can coyly ask parties made uncomfortable by her bodily exposure what ails them, forcing them to feel at fault. Green hags also masturbate chronically, able to deftly keep their claws from damaging their tits and drooling cunts excessively. The only reason green hags don’t constantly pleasure themselves is so they can focus on important tasks and so that she can give guests an appalling shock by beginning to touch herself in front of them.

When it comes to sex, green hags largely prefer partners who would ultimately prefer not to sleep with her, specifically those for whom getting raped or cajoled into sex by a hag would be a life-altering trauma or ruin their self-esteem. Since hags are so evil and unattractive by the standards of many women, a green hag is usually spoilt for choice. Sometimes, the hag chooses to act through violence, picking victims that she can easily overpower, such as children and emotionally fragile women, luring them away from their guardians and allies to be forced upon in a horrifying manner. Just as often, a green hag will choose someone seemingly more capable of defending themselves and lay with them just as easily.

When faced with tougher targets, such as most adults, a green hag rarely goes for direct assault, even though she could likely overpower most humanoids if she wanted to. Instead, the hag tricks the individual into thinking that they have chosen to fuck her. A hag may request a period of sexual service as recompense for a particular favour, knowing full well that the experience will leave the mortal too deeply shaken to properly enjoy the merits of their end of the bargain. Alternatively, a green hag may use her powers of illusion to appear as an individual’s spouse or a great beauty (one of the few times she will do such a thing) and convince her victim to make love to her. only as they are deep in it and the dupe is starting to realise that the skin is rougher to the touch than it looks and feels the claws at the end of her fingers does the hag drop her disguise, taking in both the sexual pleasure and the horror their partner feels at the deception.

Men to Green Hags

On the whole, green hags are generally in two minds about masculinity. On the one hand, thanks to the way men perceive female life, even those as ugly as a hag, there isn’t really a way for a green hag to spin fucking her as a tragedy for a man. Even if he was forced into it or engaged in sex under false pretences, the upshot of getting to fuck a fertile pussy of any sort largely prevents the incident itself from becoming traumatic. At most, a man deceived into fucking a hag will likely be aggravated and possibly concerned she may attack him, suffering no fear based on the sex itself.

Thanks to the male mental state, green hags know that they can’t use sex to harm a man directly. Instead, hags attempt to use sex as a lure. By posing as a harmless woman, downtrodden by society and in need of some loving, a hag can tempt a man into a position where he is more vulnerable. Alternatively, a hag can hang sex over a man’s head to impair his judgement somewhat, making him more compliant to manipulation and, in the long run, may make him into a truly unique corrupted minion that the hag can use to control many mortal women, be it by fawning desire for him or a fear of rape.

While these are all points that make sex with a man less compelling for a green hag, the fact of the matter is that most green hags love cocks, craving the sensation of having the thick rod rammed deep inside them, the feeling of being filled with sperm, and the experience of impregnation, all a consequence of their natural lust and link to fey fecundity. As a result, green hags do want to fuck males whenever possible, but without giving some goody two-shoe hero or arrogant two-bit villain the satisfaction of thinking they have successfully compelled her to lay with them.

While green hags can go through the aforementioned long and involved process of slowly corrupting a man until he is a compliant minion and lover to her, many take the simpler option of finding a male creature without the moral compunctions to make many observations outside of a new pussy to fuck. To this end, a hag may capture a male forest creature or rustle a bull or stallion from a nearby farm. Keeping her prise in a stable of sorts in or near her home, the hag treats the male creature as a pet of sorts, letting it frequently fuck her, along with any bestiality-repulsed “guests” she can restrain or wrap up in debts.

As a result of this constant breeding, the green hag will birth many animal offspring. Thanks to their innate nature magic, any animal a green hag gives birth to is magically loyal to her. As such, a green hag with a male pet can dramatically change the ecosystem around her home. A green hag who spends her nights knotting with a male wolf will, in a matter of years, have vicious wolf packs stalking her forest. One that finds a giant spider to mount her will instead turn her swamp into a silk-wrapped deathtrap. Even a green hag with a seemingly innocuous partner, such as a raven, toad, or ordinary rat, can bring about chaos by walking into town and birthing a plague, releasing hundreds of little vermin from her distended womb at once.

Alternatively, a green hag can look for a man capable of some thought and social mobility who is already predisposed to evil and suffers from a vulnerability to manipulation, be that from simple stupidity or a more complex flaw such as hubris or indecision. Many of the recorded kings among orcs, ogres, goblinoids, and trolls have attained the strategic knowledge they needed to reach such dreadful prominence and claim territories as their brutal kingdoms by occasionally giving their ear to the advice given by their green hag consort as she bounced on their dick. Likewise, many male spellcasters and dark fey who used their skills for evil and yet greater ascension owe their success to a green hag teacher, who, either openly or in disguise, showed them the path to power in exchange for some good, hard breeding. Regardless of the circumstances, all of these male villains remain ignorant that they are merely pawns of the green hag slut whose pussy they ravage, serving both to sate her endless desire for cock and to enact her will with the power she helped them amass.

Notes:

Big thanks to caryoldman for the art in this chapter. Check him out on Discord!

Chapter 147: Night Hag

For all their evil, most hags are, at least somewhat, bound to the rhythm of nature and the whimsical dictates of the fey, thanks to their origins in the Feywild. The evil of hags, however, is ceaseless, and it was therefore inevitable that eventually some would stray so far as to strain and then utterly sever the influence of their bloodline. Cast out of the Feywild, these hags descended until they finally found themselves in the Lower Planes.

Surrounded by palpable evil, the night hags, so named both for their activities while in the realms of mortals and for their dark, bruise-like skin tones, became the fiends they were always meant to be. With short horns growing from their temples, far more aggressive natural magic than other hags, and a vile malice in her inhuman eyes, night hags fit in well among natural-born fiends. Still, night hags retain a few fey features that serve them well: their wit, their knack for bargains, and, most alarmingly, their ability to freely pass into the Material Plane, a magical skill that gives them power and influence over natural-born fiends and thus earns their constant dependence and envy.

Nightmare Corrupters

While a night hag is loathe to turn up the opportunity to do so if it is easy, merely upsetting, terrifying, or shattering the hope of another creature is rarely a goal lofty enough to be considered worth her time. To truly make a scheme worth her time, a night hag wants to see her victims give up on mercy, their kindness drying up, and their love being completely overwhelmed by hatred. In short, the favourite schemes of night hags are those that eventually corrupt good mortals into evil.

How exactly a night hag goes about her perverse goals varies from scheme to scheme, but in any case, she has many tools available to her. If a night hag wants to turn a mortal to evil in a more classical way, by directly persuading them down the path of evil deeds, she can hide her fiendish features by shapeshifting. A night hag’s natural shape-changing abilities can let her take on the form of conceivably any kind of humanoid woman, but night hags generally prefer to remain aged and ugly when they transform, unless doing so adds significant complications to their plans.

Disguised in mortal form, a night hag worms her way into a trusted advisory role, be that a noble’s respected aide, a remote village’s cunning woman, or a travelling priestess or wise woman of some sort. Handing out advice that initially bears fruit, drawn from the great quantities of knowledge a night hag gains over her long life travelling the planes, she makes herself indispensable and her advice unquestionable.

With this implicit faith in her guidance, a disguised night hag begins offering her victims instructions to perform evil deeds. Though small at first, these actions ramp up in scale until a ruler hardens her heart for the sake of power, or a village may give in to hate and exterminate their rivals, or a congregation may become a deranged cult in exchange for the immediate but costly boons offered by fiends.

Though these symphonies of evil entertain a night hag greatly, she can also take a subtler approach, using an odd trinket to strike at people when their psyches are most vulnerable. Made over a month of painstaking work by methods known only to her kind, a heartstone enables the night hag that made it to slip from the Material Plane into the Border Ethereal and back again. By a strange fluke of magic, a night hag’s heartstone can also be used as a tool of healing; its touch is able to cure even the most virulent of diseases. This merciful function is not a heartstone’s intended use, however, and the continued application of a heartstone to heal damages the artefact’s evil nature, causing it to crack and eventually shatter.

 Striding as unseen and untouched as a spirit, a night hag in the Border Ethereal may straddle a mortal slumbering in the Material Plane, be they asleep naturally or by her magic, and reach into their mind. Over the course of an hour or so, the hag fills the victim’s dreams with horror and dark influences, often portraying lessons that teach how virtues like kindness and mercy only lead to suffering and that one must be cruel and totally self-interested in order to survive.

While these dreams are not akin to a magical enchantment, the acts of the unconscious mind can subtly influence the acts of a person in the waking world, especially if they are unaware of the external source of the evil dreams.

Besides her personal enjoyment of seeing a mortal walk down the path of darkness, a night hag has a more practical use for this method of corruption. As well as filling a person’s mind with dark thoughts, the nightmares a night hag delivers gradually take a toll on the body and mind of the soul that experiences them, causing them to grow weak and sickly. If a night hag successfully turns her victim to the path of evil before the strain of her nightmares kills them, she can collect their departing soul in her soul bag, a secondary magical item she makes from humanoid flesh. When she returns to the Lower Planes, a corrupted soul from a mortal freshly dead, unspoilt by the constant suffering of the Lower Planes, is a hot commodity among the local fiends, letting her get an extremely high price for it.

Soul Merchants

Being some of the few fiends that can travel to and from the Material Plane with almost complete impunity, night hags have almost soul access to fresh, hand-picked evil souls. Since both devils and demons alike can swell their ranks with them, souls form the very backbone of their power, the ones cultivated and procured by the night hags being all the more precious for their quality and power. With access to a unique and precious resources and the wits and business acumen to market it, the night hags have established themselves as a fearsome presence in the Lower Planes.

Though night hags still conduct most of their business alone or in three hag covens, the cutthroat nature of doing business with literal fiends forces most night hags to partake, at least nominally, in a larger alliance of their kind. Operating together with purely cruel ambitions, night hags clawed their way into practically every plane of darkness, most especially the Grey Wastes of Hades, the pure evil of the place, untainted by concerns for law or chaos, suiting the night hags well.

Though stronger than the average hag, with a natural magic resistance and ability to cast a number of violent spells even without a coven supporting them, night hags did not conquer Hades and gain influence across the Lower Planes through pure violent conquest, a night hag’s personal power usually being more comparable to foot soldiers of the Nine Hells or the Abyss. Instead, the night hags gained their power through offering what others could not attain, through fostering dependence, outwitting their rivals, accruing favours, sealing alliances, and betraying them at just the right moment.

Though their main export is souls, the night hags are willing to sell any goods or services they can procure. In the in the legendary night hag markets of Hades, it is said that all manner of wicked beings, from fiends to undead and more, come in search of what they desire. Even the most hateful of devils and violent of demons recognise that it is in their interest to resect the night hags dominion in these places, both because of how harshly the united covens can punish attackers, and because those that abide by the hags’ dictates can buy horrendously cruel weapons, the answer to their most sickening desires, and any other good or service one could wish for, short of salvation.

One notable achievement of the night hags is the creation of the yugoloths, the causeless, avaricious mercenaries of the Lower Planes. Through means thankfully forgotten, the night hags birthed forth an army of fiends bound to serve their agenda and enforce their power, a force able to swing the balance of power among fiends in any way the night hags pleased, forcing demon and devil alike to make use of their services. Though most of the yugoloths have long since escaped their obligation to serve the night hags, the capability of the night hags to create such an influential strain of fiends in the first place garners them fear and resect to this day.

Sex and Sexuality Among Night Hags

Despite all the fiendish influences upon them, night hags still retain their fey fertility. Thanks to this ancestral trait, night hags are not only one of the few fiends able to grow their numbers through breeding but also an unexpected source of many of the Lower Plane’s more sexual displays of evil. Many night hags even call themselves the progenitors of sinful lust, a claim succubae and other licentious fiends quietly baulk at.

Like other hags, night hags often mix business with pleasure, attempting to use sex while drawing mortals to evil, a goal aided by their natural shapeshifting abilities. In a move similar to other hags, night hags may, from time to time, swallow their pride to take on a traditionally beautiful disguise in order to seduce a victim. However, while other hags tend to do this to revel in the shock and horror when the disguise is dropped, night hags often have longer schemes. By day, the night hag tempts and rewards their lover for undertaking increasingly evil acts; by night, the night hag puts them to sleep with wild lovemaking before stepping into the Border Ethereal to haunt their dreams.

For other hags, such a long-term goal would have issues. When a green or sea hag takes on a more charming guise, it is usually composed of an illusion that, while visually convincing, tends to fall apart on closer inspection, such as those generally engaged in by normal sexual activity. What looks like the smooth, milky skin of a maiden may feel rough and gnarled when she is a disguised green hag. Meanwhile, the voluminous silky hair of an apparent island woman may be slimy to the touch, revealing that she is in fact a sea hag. A night hag’s disguise is no illusion, however, but a transformation, her body physically changing to suit her needs. As such, a night hag posing as a charming paramour, she not only looks sexy but feels, sounds, and even smells it too.

Less directly, night hags are rumoured to be the inventors of many magical items and potions often used in the pursuit of lust, including the infamous Philter of Love. A tasteless, odourless, rosy-coloured potion, the Philter of Love is intended to be slipped into the food or drink of the object of one’s affections in order to be unwittingly consumed. Once consumed, the Philter of Love causes a mystical charm to affect the imbiber, causing them to believe they are madly in love with the next person they see, normally the one who drugged them. It is thought by some that it was through centuries of working with such an enchanting potion that night hags gained their immunity to compulsive magic.

Many villains, including the night hags themselves, of course, have used the Philter of Love to direct others into following their dastardly schemes. However, many more ordinary people, desperately lovelorn, have been tricked or persuaded by this potion to do the great evil of subverting another’s free will, often to fuck them in a position where their ability to properly consent is lost—the rapacious act disguised as one of love. The night hags take credit for each and every one of these violations, taking great pride in the fact that their invention made all this evil possible.

Men to Night Hags

A common symptom of female beings going native in the Lower Planes often seems to be a varying mix of rabid misandry and a possessive lust for men. Night hags fall decisively in the latter camp. According to most night hags, hating a man purely for his masculinity shows a distinct and often-deserved lack of confidence in one’s femininity. Just as men are masters of sex and impregnation, so too can a woman be an expert in breeding and milking a cock for all its worth, assuming she has the boldness for it, as most night hags assume they do.

Despite this strong sexual desire, night hags generally have an aversion to “rewarding” a good man with their bodies. On the other hand, night hags know that men are especially vulnerable to temptations of a sexual sort. As such, a night hag who locates a man may set her sights upon him and begin a scheme to seduce him to evil. Able to try again and again in various beautiful and innocuous forms, a night hag will typically continue to harass a man who resists her advances until she succeeds or he becomes powerful and wise enough to her schemes to prove a danger to pursue.

If a mortal man does fall to evil thanks to her meddling, a night hag may spend a few years as his consort, watching and aiding in his villainy with glee. Eventually, however, with her being immortal and him not so, the night hag will kill the man and claim his soul. What a night hag does with her lover’s soul can vary somewhat. Males being so rare compared to females, a male soul can normally be sold to other fiends for a significant price, but if the night hag’s lust trumps her greed, she may keep the soul for herself, moulding it into a fiendish form, typically either an incubus or some form of bestial demon, to act as her servant and concubine for the rest of time.

Sometimes, if a night hag doesn’t feel like going through the trouble of corrupting a man at that moment, she will go for an already wicked male. Rarely does this involve going to the Material Plane, since the Lower Planes are already so full of evil. A night hag with valuable enough goods or enough business savvy can normally requisition service from a greater devil’s male underlings or barter for time with a powerful demon’s male demonic slave. Alternatively, when dealing with a male fiend who has found power for themselves, a night hag knows she can sweeten virtually any deal with her own body, getting a better deal and a devastating fuck at the same time.

Chapter 148: Sea Hag

All hags actively strive against the common standards of beauty, revelling in what is ugly or foul, but among them, sea hags are the epitome of repulsiveness. Maybe some of the least human-like of hags, sea hags are better described as pieces of various decaying sea life crudely assembled into a shape that one may generously call similar to a mortal woman. With bulging, dead fish eyes, patches of slimy scales, and hair like reeking kelp, the very sight of a sea hag can put the weak of heart in a fit of terror, a fit so violent that as little as a fearsome glare from her can strike the afflicted dead.

Able to breathe water as well as air, many sea hags live in the deep ocean, plying the same wicked deals that landbound hags do for merfolk and other aquatic mortals, conducting their deals from sunken wrecks and deep abyssal trenches. Other sea hags turn their attention landward, making a home in a driftwood hovel or dripping cave on the coast. Wherever she conducts business, the sea hag endeavours first and foremost to achieve disquiet, fear, and disgust.

Terror and Revulsion

In a field of stiff competition, sea hags reign supreme as the indubitably ugliest hags in existence. Sea hags are often gangly but can come in all manner of shapes and sizes: fat, thin, short, or tall. No matter what the shape of her body is, it is normally the face of a sea hag that is most unpleasant. To look upon a sea hag without some form of filter is to invite not only common disgust but a sinking dread akin to what one may feel staring into the dark of an ocean crevasse or standing on the edge of a storm-drenched cliff.

In this precipice between abhorrence and panic, the sea hag is queen. Even the strongest, most self-respecting of people bow their heads before a sea hag, if only to avoid looking right at her. Those bold or foolish enough not to avert their eyes from a sea hag have their will tested by the primordial horror hidden in her foul appearance, entering a panic should their will prove insufficient. While in a state of fear, one makes themselves vulnerable to the power within a sea hag’s eyes. When a sea hag looks into the eyes of one lost in terror, she can use their state of emotional vulnerability to quite literally scare the life out of them. Those that succumb to a sea hag’s glare often die on the spot, and even the mightiest of heroes can collapse in a near-death catatonia if they let fear grip their hearts.

A sea hag can spare guests this horror if she so wishes, either by simply hiding her face under her kelp-like hair or by arcane means. By using her innate magic, sea hags can weave for themselves an illusory appearance, so long as they retain their general size and humanoid shape. However, so entrenched is a sea hag’s inner foulness that she literally cannot mentally bring herself to disguise herself in a way that isn’t at least a little ugly. However, few occasions can compel a sea hag to hide her hideousness for the sake of others; when a sea hag hides or disguises her face, she does so either in the name of later mischief or to put her victims guard down before the fright of the grand reveal.

Unlike many hags, sea hags rarely have overly convoluted plots. When a sea hag does plot, however, its most common end goal is to generate fear and disgust. While a sea hag won’t be against turning others to evil or bringing them to ruin, she normally just wants people around her to feel uncomfortable and unsafe. Sea hags achieve this less by completing schemes and more by living her life in the most unnerving, disgusting ways of which she can conceive.

In pursuit of her wretched goals, a sea hag adopts all manner of odious habits, from as mundane as tooth-picking to as foul as lurching through polluted waters, dining on rotten fish and the bloated corpses of sailors. When conversing, every word a sea hag speaks either alludes to some terrible truth or is a veiled threat. Nobody leaves a conversation with a sea hag feeling good about the experience, no matter how civil the chat was.

Scavenging Collectors

Of all hags, sea hags are some of the least innately magical, in and of themselves. Most of a sea hag’s natural magic is bound up in her menacing appearance, with only a bit left over for illusory disguises and the like. Because of this and the sea hag’s propensity to be generally horrible rather than pursue calculated plans of evil, some people make the mistake of thinking that sea hags are easily bested by anyone who can keep their nerve. What these people forget is that the sea is a deep and unknowable trove of dark secrets and that sea hags are avid dredgers.

Sea hags often set themselves up in areas of particularly rich pickings, such as the outflow of coastal cities or hazardous outcroppings along otherwise major shipping routes. From there, the sea hag sifts through the outflow’s garbage or among the splintered remains of a wrecked ship. A sea hag may take a little gold and treasure for the joy of denying it to others or as a means to bribe someone to act her way, but she generally dislikes things that most humanoids consider art; the beauty of the pieces appalling her. Instead, a sea hag gathers anything with even a sliver of magic to it, taking it back to her lair to figure out how best she can use it.

One may think that simply hoping for items of arcane power to wash in among mortal wrecks and detritus would be an ineffective strategy, but sea hags are virtually immortal and patient. Over the centuries, a relatively unknown hag can attain several lucky finds, wands, amulets, rings, or even just a few bits and pieces that, although minor on their own, the hag can cobble together into something truly terrible.

Though patient, sea hags are rarely forgiving of those who impede their grim harvest. Sea hags often target lighthouse keepers, either murdering them outright or slowly driving them insane through half-seen glimpses of her, ensuring that their light stays out on fogy nights. Sea hags also do not appreciate competition, with mortal salvagers and mudlarks often being forced to either work for them or die. Even those who consider themselves more powerful and protected can fall afoul of a sea hag’s wrath. On the rare occasion a sea hag does plot, the goal is usually to lay low somebody who dares try to interfere with her domain, be it a politician campaigning to clean up the river or a building crew in charge of flood defences.

Sex and Sexuality Among Sea Hags

Like all hags, sea hags have a powerful sex drive belied by their aged, ugly appearance. Of all hags, sea hags are the most pleased by this dissonance. The utter revulsion mortal women feel and sometimes express upon seeing a sea hag exhibit even a little bit of lust is the highest form of praise for her. To encourage this revulsion yet further, sea hags do not shy away from expressing and showing their desire. Sea hags more often than not go nude, their scaley flesh obscured only by their clinging, kelp-like hair. Meanwhile, a sea hag’s home and surrounding territories often have crude representations of her, often posed luridly with her pussy agape and her tits hanging down. Sea hags also seek sexual pleasure in whatever way they can, masturbating constantly, with or without an audience. With no clothes to sew pockets into, it is not unusual for sea hags to cram all manner of strange things into their cunts for transport.

Despite their constant libido, sea hags are fairly selective when it comes to sexual partners. All hags have a vendetta against beautiful people, but the thought of how upset a beauty will be to fuck her is normally enough to let most hags swallow their distain and at least feign arousal. For a sea hag, the value she places in ugliness is too great to make such a compromise. For a sea hag, a particularly gorgeous woman is almost as hard to look at as she is for most mortals. Nothing dries out a sea hag’s desire more than a pretty face. Still, this hatred of beauty does make the sea hag all the more driven to ruin someone for being beautiful.

Often, a sea hag will try to make a beautiful woman ugly, either by mutilation or a transmogrifying trinket of some kind. Often as the “collateral” for failing to meet some near-impossible criterion of a deal. Not only does this disfiguration make the victim far more pleasant to look at for the sea hag and crate a great deal of delicious misery, but often the sea hag manages to manipulate and abuse the victim into believing that they are now utterly unlovable and thus must spend her life pleasuring the hag or else never find anything close to companionship. This deception often leads to the hag gaining not only a lover but a fanatically dependent underling.

Besides the ones she uglifies herself, sea hags often have minions that are already hideous to serve both her practical and sexual needs. Common examples include sahuagin, zombified sailors, and kuo-toa. Additionally, sea hags often raise various aquatic creatures to pleasure her when her hands are otherwise occupied, including starfish that suck on her nipples, marine worms to slide in and out of her pussy, and even giant cephalopods, trained to pleasure her with their tentacles.

Men to Sea Hags

Like all hags, most sea hags crave cock. However, this desire is trumped in sea hags by their natural aversion to attractiveness. Their rarity and the adoration in which they are held are often sufficient to give the common male form a sort of inferred beauty in and of itself. This fact enrages sea hags, for it means that most mortal men are, to some extent, beautiful, and thus disgusting in a sea hag’s eyes. Despite how much a sea hag wants to fuck a cock, the shear revulsion she feels towards the man attached to it makes her completely unwilling to lower herself to fuck him willingly.

What is worse is that, thanks to the way men see female life, they tend not to appreciate the full scale of a sea hag’s ugliness. While most men can recognise a hag as being notably less beautiful than, say, an elven princess, a man would still be able to pick out attractive features from both, with appearance alone being unlikely to completely turn a man off anyone. Not only does this make men resistant to the offensive power of a sea hag’s horrific appearance and death glare, but it also ruins how he will respond to all her efforts to make herself less charming. Some men, often in a horribly ill-advised effort to placate her, may even list all the features of a sea hag that he finds attractive right to her face. Such vile insults, made all the worse by the man’s honesty, can drive a sea hag insane with rage.

While a sea hag may sometimes deface or transform a man to better suit her liking so she can bare to fuck him, this is a surprisingly rare plot for a sea hag to perform. Sea hags seem to believe that, thanks to their own resplendent ugliness, they deserve only the most naturally hideous husbands that can be found. Since, for a sea hag, a man is simply the unfortunate thing one must deal with to get at his cock, she will usually go for size over anything else. While a sea hag may lay with a male kuo-toa or sea slug if it’s the only cock she can find, she would much rather take something bigger, such as a shark, merrow, aquatic troll, or giant toad.

When a sea hag is fortunate enough to have lured in or captured a sufficiently impressive male, she often incorporates him into her foul act. When with company, a sea hag tends to croon and praise the foul beast, treating it as if it were her spouse. She will offer visitors bowls of her “husband’s” cum and drop everything to fuck him openly, accusing any woman present of rudeness if they do not help her pleasure him. In truth, however, sea hags have no love for their male pets outside of their penis, and they will abuse, bully, and manipulate a male to keep him in line. If a male creature proves impossible to control, she will kill it to deny it the chance to fuck anything without her permission.

Chapter 149: Half-Dragon

The power of a dragon isn’t stored in their muscles or mind. nor is it fully held in the magic that surrounds them or the elemental ravages of their breath. The incalculable grandiosity of a dragon’s power emerges from their blood—the very being of who they are. Thanks to this, slivers of a dragon’s great power can be attained when the essence of a dragon comingles with other life. The immediately considered way for this to happen is by a dragon deigning to mate with another creature. Being so filled with virility, dragons of either sex can breed with a great variety of creatures. Female dragons can impregnate or fall pregnant by all manner of animals, people, giants, and monsters, and there is often a reasonable chance that the resultant offspring may be born a half dragon, that is, a creature of its non-draconic parent’s kind with features such as the head, tail, and scales of their draconic one.

Though interspecies breeding is the most well-known way of attaining a half dragon, there are a range of non-sexual ways half dragons can arise. Living things that inhabit the deeper parts of a dragon’s territory may birth a half dragon or two every generation by the simple influence of the dragon’s presence. One may wilfully turn themselves into a half-dragon through a ritual bath in dragon's blood or the like. It may even be some form of curse, marking the victim as forever a monstrous outcast thanks to her sharing the face of whatever dragon she insulted or stole from. Wherever they come from, few half-dragons can be expected to live humble lives.

Draconic Hybrids

Being the child of a dragon and another parent, half-dragons typically have the overall form of whatever creature the draconic essence influences to make them, enhanced by an array of draconic traits. A set of powerful, reptilian jaws and sharp claws at the ends of limbs are common; tails tend to grow strong and flexible; and even the smallest half-dragon creature has a formidable baring that keeps them unmolested by predators and often in possession of more omnivorous or fully carnivorous tendencies than are common for their kind.

All half-dragons are possessed of sharp senses, able to see perfectly well in the dark, navigate an unfamiliar room blindfolded, or even fight an invisible enemy through a combination of hearing, smell, and instinct. Half-dragons are also exceptionally hardy, with ageing that slows down tremendously upon reaching adulthood. A half-dragon that avoids unforeseen misfortune can expect to live almost double the lifespan of her non-draconic parent and live most of that time in peak physical health.

The additional physical capabilities of a half dragon usually depend on what kind of dragon her parent was. Though not as fully immune as true dragons are, half dragons tend to be remarkably resilient against the native element of their draconic parent. A red half dragon may easily tolerate soaring temperatures, for example, while a copper one suffers little from contact with acid.

As well as simply tolerating the elements, half-dragons are born with the power to breathe them in a destructive attack. At will, a green half dragon may exude toxic gas over a group of foes, while a silver half dragon makes a miniature blizzard and a gold one bathes her enemies in flames. Though not always violent, the ability to simply open one’s jaws at any time and unleash death undoubtably affects the mentality of half-dragons.

Half-dragons are, usually, of their own minds. Unlike true dragons, one can rarely judge a half dragon’s morality purely by her scales; a red half dragon may be a great hero despite her fearsome appearance, and being half gold dragon does not seem to compel one to be good. The influence a half-dragon’s heritage has on her personality seems to be subtler than it is on true dragons. A half-brass dragon may be more outgoing and talkative, while a half-white dragon is more isolationist and direct. Most half-dragons, however, at least to a minor extent, appear to suffer from the draconic vices of material greed and pride.

Strategic Conception

When they are consciously aware of it, dragons seldomly create half-dragons on a whim. At the very least, a dragon who is asked for assistance in making a half dragon, whether by breeding or more arcane means, will want to know the requester very well, lest they accidentally give a portion of draconic power to a future enemy. Individuals who want to have or be a half-dragon for reasons outside of or contrary to a dragon's interests must therefore use trickery or even kill a dragon to extract its essence for the endeavour.

Sometimes, especially in the case of metallic dragons, a dragon may develop a strong affection for someone and willingly impregnate them with a half dragon as a gift of sorts. Usually, however, a dragon makes a half-dragon because they want a half-dragon. This is a much more practical desire than the ordinary wish to breed, for even the nicest of dragons do not consider half-dragon offspring to be close to equal to their fully draconic half siblings. While the latter continues a dragon’s bloodline, the former exists to serve a purpose that a true dragon would be ill-suited for, namely to serve its parent. Thanks to the expectation of this servile role, different kinds of dragons have different preferences for what they make half-dragons with.

Metallic dragons tend to avoid making overly intelligent half-dragons, making animals and bestial monsters as half-dragons they can keep as stronger, longer-lived pets, rather than choosing people for whom such control would be better described as slavery. All half-dragons, no matter how dumb or animalistic, are inborn with a fundamental grasp of the draconic tongue. As such, choosing to raise a half-dragon beast makes training much easier for a metallic dragon. On the rare occasion that a metallic dragon does wilfully choose to create an intelligent half dragon, the relationship is normally more akin to that of student and teacher than servant and master. The dragon helps raise their creation as a somewhat distant mentor, teaches them the precepts of good, and, upon reaching adulthood, lets the half dragon either stay in service to their creator or go out and spread what they’ve learned wherever they may go.

Chromatic dragons, on the other hand, don’t give two coppers about the free will of their half-dragons. Willing to use threat and violence to keep them in line, chromatic dragons tend to pick the strongest initial stock to make their half dragons out of, so it may be empowered further by its draconic fury and breath weapon. Still, most of a chromatic dragon’s half-dragon underlings will be somewhat unintelligent, making creatures like ogres, orcs, and bestial monsters ideal fodder for their creation. This choice is not out of ethics, but paranoia.

A servant with a fraction of a dragon’s power and a brain may begin to get ideas of usurping their creator. While most chromatic dragons are too proud to seriously consider the possibility of being successfully overthrown by their underlings, the trouble even an attempted rebellion may bring is rarely considered worth the risk. More scheming dragons, like blue and green dragons, may permit one or two smarter half dragons to arise in order to help with their plans, but no more than she can keep a constant eye on.

Sex and Sexuality Among Half-Dragons

Inborn with a high sense of self-esteem and the instincts that come with draconic virility, half-dragons are generally interested in engaging in sex and often feel like they are highly attractive. When it comes to sex, half dragons are normally held in similar regard to their non-draconic parents by true dragons, and dragons are normally as averse to fucking half dragons of their own creation as they are to having sex with their fully draconic daughters. Since this makes a half dragon’s chances with a true dragon poor to middling, they often instead turn to their other parent’s kind, along with similar creatures.

Among less intelligent, more animalistic half dragons, the power and aggression provided by draconic blood often serve as an advantage in contests for mates, letting the half dragon win such struggles easily. For half dragons descended from more civilised stock, their reptilian features can be off-putting to some women, but many more are won over by the half dragon’s power and her unshakable confidence. If she looks for it, a half-dragon will almost always find a woman willing to lay with her.

Despite all this seductive and sexual prowess, something about introducing the power of a dragon into the very being of a non-draconic creature creates one unfortunate side effect: infertility. Half-dragons, no matter the kind, are completely incapable of impregnating or getting pregnant by another female creature. If a half-dragon desires progeny with a woman, she must find rare and elusive magics to enable it, often calling for a great and complicated quest to attain it. Even if she does find the magic necessary to breed, the child of a half-dragon is never a half-dragon themselves; at best, they may be a member of the half-dragon’s non-draconic half with some innate draconic sorcery in their veins.

Men to Half-Dragons

Among the personality quirks half-dragons attain from their heritage, one that seems particularly widespread is a natural distrust or distain for males, with the exception of the stunningly rare male dragon. Half-dragon animals and monsters, even those who are normally calmer or prone to flight, seem to attack men by instinct, only being held back by a significant gulph in power or by the orders of a mistress they respect. While instinct alone will not make an intelligent half-dragon violent or abusive towards a man, his presence will make her uncomfortable. Women familiar with the half dragon will likely notice her being unusually prickly or cold to an unfamiliar man compared to other strangers.

Still, half-dragons are not entirely beholden to their draconic drives and may not be entirely intractable from their distrust of a man. If a man is capable of turning a half-dragon’s opinions around and earning her trust, he might find she changes her tune about having sex with him, even with very little overall familiarity. This is for a rather simple reason. While a woman must find rare arcane power to successfully impregnate or carry the baby of a half-dragon, men appear to have no trouble knocking a half-dragon up if allowed to fuck her. As such, the barest modicum of trust may be all a half-dragon needs to change her perception of a man from a potential foe to the key to her starting a family. Of course, not all half-dragons are actively waiting for the chance to have children of their own, and such a presumption may strain any trust a man manages to attain.

As far as sages can tell, half-dragons appear to be an all-female phenomenon. There are no records of born half-dragons coming out male, and for whatever reason, no man has ever been recorded as successfully attempting to transform himself into a half-dragon. Some theorise that masculinity is somehow incompatible with draconic power. Others claim that the apparent curse of doom that hangs over male dragons eliminates male half-dragons before they can be born. Yet others say that it is merely a numbers game, that both being male and being half-dragon are so rare that for both to occur in the same being approaches statistical impossibility. Whatever the case may be, whatever a male half-dragon would be like is a mystery for the ages, both in his nature, form, and potential effects on his virility.

Chapter 150: Harpy

On passages by rocky shores and along chasm ridges, wise explorers block their ears at the first hint of music for fear of the deadly but beautiful song of the harpy. Harpies are, physically, creatures of humanoid bodies, most similar to the human or elven form, with the legs and wings of a raptorial bird. Despite the somewhat angelic traits of her appearance and the sweetness of her voice, a harpy is a violent, sadistic monster that hungers for flesh, particularly that of intelligent creatures. With only barely enough intelligence to pick up a few words of the local dialect and wield sticks, rocks, and the bones of previous victims as crude weapons to bludgeon prey along with her talons, harpies tend to live on sheltered cliff edges and within mountain ruins in small flocks, bickering amongst each other until prey arrives.

Divine Song

According to legends, harpies can trace their origins back in time to a single elven maiden. In some versions, she was an avariel, one of the now vanishingly rare subraces of elves known for possessing a pair of avian wings. In any case, the tale goes that the elf was drawn to the beautiful song of a bird. On following the tune, she saw another elf, also drawn to the bird’s song, tragically beautiful and possessed of a rugged, independent spirit that she immediately fell for. In the same moment the maiden had decided there would be no other love for her than that of the mysterious stranger, the stranger noticed her and departed, vanishing into the woods.

No matter how hard she looked, the elven maiden found no sign of the elf who stole her heart. What the maiden had no way of knowing, tragically, was that the object of her affections had been none other than Fenmarel Mestarine, Elvish Goddess of Outcasts and Solitude, and that nothing would compel the solitary goddess to show herself to that mortal woman again. In heartbroken desperation, the elf called to her kind’s goddesses for aid.

In response, Aerdrie Faenya, Elven Goddess of the Sky, appeared to the mortal in the form of the bird that had first drawn her and Fenmarel together. Aerdrie taught the mortal elf a song composed by the elven goddesses themselves, one of such seductive beauty that she could conceivably enrapture any mortal lover she desired, allowing her to find a love that would abide her and heal her heart of the wound left by the Outcast Goddess.

Despite the gift’s intended purpose, the elven maiden was desperate and already hopelessly in love. Day and night, the elf sang, hoping that her new voice would eventually draw the object of her desires back to her. The song drew many to the elf’s presence, but none of these admirers were Fenmarel. Slowly, the elf’s disappointment turned to rage—rage at Fenmarel for breaking her heart, rage at Aerdrie for her gift not mending it in the way she desired, and rage at the innocent passersby who were guilty only of falling for a beautiful song and not being the one for whom its singer intended it.

Eventually, this rage built to the point where the elven maiden took a branch and began murdering those her song brought to her. After a while, it made perfect sense in the singer’s twisted mind to eat the people she killed, the warmth of their flesh briefly filling the hole that was once her lovelorn heart. With every kill and every perversion of her goddess-given gift, the maiden changed from an elf to a vicious, half-bird monster, the first harpy, stripped of everything she was besides her enchanting song.

Even today, untold generations later, harpies still retain their mystical voices. The song of a harpy is the most beautiful music any soul can hear. Overcome by the song’s divinity, most mortals feel compelled to blunder towards the voice of a singing harpy, regardless of the obvious dangers that may lie between them and the singer or the danger of the singer themselves.

A harpy may sometimes use her song to draw people out of hiding so that she may beat and claw them to death. More often, the harpy will simply position herself with her prey's path to her blocked by something hazardous to the flightless, often a cliff for them to blindly stagger off of. Other harpies set up on rocky islands surrounded by shallow reefs and other obstacles able to skuttle a ship. One who falls under the sway of a harpy while in charge of a ship, or any other vehicle for that matter, may simply steer the entire vessel in the monster’s direction, hand-delivering their entire crew onto the jagged, shipwrecking rocks.

For all their horror, the beauty of a harpy’s song has driven many souls on a desperate quest to intentionally hear it. Mosty bards in search of ultimate inspiration and elves hoping to hear the music of their deities, these hopeful listeners are known to take actions as great as having themselves bound to ship's masts or hogtied so that they are incapable of running to their deaths should the song affect them. For most of these people who hear the song and survive, there is no inspiration, only a subtle clinging longing to hear the song once again, no matter the cost.

Sadistic and Greedy

Though somewhat intelligent, harpies are predators first and foremost. Though harpies will kill pretty much any creature they can manage, they are most fond of humanoid flesh, particularly the flesh of elves, when they can get it.

When on the hunt, harpies will first and foremost avoid anything even resembling a fair fight. Though generally lacking the wits for advanced tactics, harpies will position themselves in such a way that they have an enormous advantage against their prey. A harpy ambush often takes place somewhere like a narrow mountain trail, where the harpies can fly from perch to perch while their flightless prey is kept on its restrained trail, vulnerable to being thrown off. Harpies also tend to attack in superior numbers, not only mobbing stragglers, but gathering in large flocks, each individual’s song merging into a single, irresistible melody.

When hungry, harpies tear their prey apart, squabbling with each other over every edible scrap. However, harpies will attack humanoid prey even when they aren’t hungry. When not pressured by the threat of starvation, harpies generally beat their victims unconscious and carry them off to their nest. There, the victims are generally bound in ropes of hair and gut or hung from precipices and tortured for no reason beyond the harpy’s entertainment until she gets hungry enough to eat them.

While aggressive and confident when at a strong advantage, harpies are cowards at heart. If harpies feel a fight is no longer a sure victory, they will usually flee. As well as simply superior combat skills, harpies are also shaken by a variety of things, from being taken by surprise to combatants with unexpected powers of flight to simply loud noises, loud enough to drown out their beautiful song. Though rarely witnessed, there are several tales of harpies being scared away with only bells, horns, and cymbals.

As well as their flesh, harpies also avariciously obsess over anything that sparkles and shines on their victim’s person. Squabbles and vicious fights often break out between harpies over the treasures on a slain victim’s person. If one successfully defeats or drives off a flock of harpies and finds their nests, one is likely to find coins, gems, fragments of armour, metal weapons, and even a few magical items amongst the piles of bones, hair, and offal.

Sex and Sexuality Among Harpies

Though beautiful and ladylike on the outside, harpies are nothing but murderous beasts within. It is thus that harpies do not court or woo each other, as people might, but simply seek to brutally fuck in order to reproduce. Despite their magical songs arousing such emotions in their prey, love and seduction are not phenomena harpies are familiar with. Thus, the poetic images of harpies singing to each other over mountain passes are nothing but fiction, attempts by poets and bards to romanticise an utterly foul creature.

When harpies want to fuck, it's an affair not of love but of power. A harpy with the desire to breed attacks her fellow, trying to batter and claw her into submission until she can be raped and impregnated. This often ends up with both parties being bludgeoned and clawed viciously by each other, leaving them weak enough for other harpies to notice the opportunity and try to rape both parties. This cascade of violence generally turns one harpy’s opportunistic lunge into a vicious orgy of rape and assault, all discordantly accompanied by the most beautiful of songs. While smaller shows of rape may occur just as frequently as violence, flock-wide breeding orgies tend to happen only once every six months or so.

On the surface, an orgy of harpies is a chaotic free-for-all, where each harpy tries to rape any nearby harpy that looks vulnerable. However, harpies judge their chances of successfully raping or fending off an attempt at rape by keeping a meticulous mental record of every flock member’s relative strength. This judgement is based on how many fights they’ve won or lost against her in the past as well as the amount of treasure in their nest, since a harpy with more treasure had likely killed more intelligent prey, won more scuffles for their valuables, and successfully protected their nest from thieves, thus suggesting that they are stronger harpies who are inadvisable targets for rape and are not worth risking as much injury in resisting if she tries to rape them. In this way, stronger harpies tend to successfully impregnate more mates than weaker ones.

Seemingly by the natural process of their bodies, harpies lay one to three hand-sized, avian eggs every forty days. If, ten or so days before laying, a harpy is impregnated, one of the eggs she lays will be fertilised and hatch eleven to twenty days later. If an egg does not hatch after a month of being laid, the mother assumes it to be unfertilized and eats it. Unfertilized harpy eggs are greatly treasured by alchemists and other arcane specialists for their use in various potions and the like, to the point where some individuals may take the risk and raid harpy nests for the payout attained not only by the accumulated treasure but for the price eggs can be sold at too.

A successfully hatched harpy chick grows quickly. Fed on meat brought by its mother for the first few weeks of its life, a young harpy often learns to fly and assist in hunting only a month or two after hatching. Once fledged, a young harpy is especially ravenous, killing and consuming anything it can as it continues to grow fast. A well-fed harpy can resemble an adult woman and begin mating and laying eggs at only three years of age.

Since harpies can technically understand and even speak simple phrases in the local language, typically Common, some individuals, particularly excentric menagerie owners and untested romantics, believe that it may be possible for a person to romantically charm a harpy, breaking her monstrous habits with the power of love and attraction. This belief is folly in the highest order. No harpy has ever shown any interest in mating with creatures aside from other harpies, and even if they did, harpies have no concept of love for each other, let alone for creatures they consider prey.

Men to Harpies

Chief among the hopeful fools who go out trying to woo the monstrous harpies are young, inexperienced male adventurers. Not even the prime seductive talents of most men are able to overcome the sheer spirit of hate that drives harpies to kill. To harpies, men are simply prey, prey that, thanks to the natural inclination men have to love and be attracted to women, are especially vulnerable to falling under the sway of their song.

If a man wants to successfully fuck a harpy, seduction is not going to work in any way short of magical intervention. As in most things, the only way for a man to get a harpy to do what he wants is through fear. When clearly outmatched or heavily injured, a harpy’s first option is usually to flee. However, if this option is cut off from her thanks to being bound or held by a man, she is much more pliable to firm, straightforward demands. Living in a culture of rape, harpies naturally obey and sexually accept men who show themselves to be physically superior to them.

The compliance of a harpy only lasts as long as she feels actively threatened, however. If a harpy spots an opening, she will try to flee her rapist. If a man lets his guard down, a harpy may even try to kill him as she goes. From some observation, harpies hatched in captivity generally don’t try to flee the ones that hatched them, letting them be kept as “pets” of a sort. However, cruelty and hunger for humanoid flesh are inborn traits for harpies that cannot be trained out, only suppressed by a fear of reprisal. A “tame” harpy will hurt and kill any non-harpy she thinks she can get away with, her master included. Tame harpies are, if anything, more dangerous, since being raised by humanoids makes them smarter, more familiar with people’s habits, and able to scheme.

Male harpies are born only very occasionally, and most of the time they don’t live long. With male confidence and a greater drive to rape the females of their flock even before they have reached full strength, female harpies tend to get sick of young male harpies and kill them out of frustration. If a male harpy does survive his overeager youth, he normally attains a high amount of power within the flock.

The seductive talent of men merging with the enchanting divine magic of a harpy, the song of a male harpy is oddly effective at drawing humanoid women to him. With this power to attain prey, fully grown male harpies are usually well fed and flush with trinkets, thus helping them to intimidate and overpower the females of their flock into submission. While male harpies do eat women without remorse, a male harpy who isn’t hungry will make use of his power to draw women to him for sexual use. Women who are raped by male harpies and escape generally give birth to children who grow up to be particularly charismatic, especially with their singing voices and performative skills. Occasionally, these children of harpies display their father’s cruelty, making them manipulative sociopaths, though this is not always the case.

Chapter 151: Hell Hound

With a dreadful howl and the smell of brimstone on the wind, hell hounds run abroad. Though they bear a passing resemblance to mortal hunting dogs, their form is distinctly monstrous. With fur coloured from pitch black to russet brown and an infernal flame blazing within, hell hounds are fiends through and through, born of and native to the Lower Planes, particularly those of a lawful bent, Arheron, the Nine Hells, and Gehenna.

In their hellish home realms, hell hounds charge across ruined lands in search of victims to tear apart. Though unable to cross into the Material Plane themselves, many evil races have called them forth to fight by their sides. The pain a hell hound inflicts on her victim nourishes her sick mind, even as their victim’s flesh fuels their internal fires.

Fangs and Fire

After spending centuries or even millennia in the most hostile domains the planes have to offer, hell hounds are some of the most proficient hunters in existence. Though only slightly larger than the average wolf of the Material Plane, a single hell hound bears the power and ferocity to rip through a whole wolf pack by herself. Still, in the constant violence demanded by the Lower Planes, this increase in power puts hell hounds in about the same ecological position, and thus, with prey more dangerous than deer and bison to tangle with, hell hounds form packs to compound their already significant power.

With their reliance on their pack, hell hounds are surprisingly loyal, cooperative with each other, and willing to take on great personal risk for the sake of a packmate. One could almost call the behaviours of hell hounds towards others in their pack noble if the pack's goal were not to simply kill and ravage with apparent indiscriminate bloodlust.

Though their loyalty to their pack gives hell hounds a fairly devilish lawful inclination, hell hound are not devils. Derived not from the souls of mortals cast into the Nine Hells, the rulers of Bator cannot offer promotion to hell hounds for their loyalty. A pack of hell hounds is just as likely to hunt down and tear apart a straggling devil as any other victim, unless the followers of Asmodeus have offered her pack something to side with them. That being said, hell hounds do tend to ally with devils more frequently than with other fiends, both because of their shared lawful nature and because infernal fire immunity renders the major weapon of the hellhound worthless against them.

While a hell hound possesses sharp fangs and a staggering bite force, often able to crunch through bone, hell hounds also contain an internal font of hellfire. A hell hound’s throat, eyes, and maw glow with an orange flame that grows stronger when she is enraged, the flames belching out through her teeth with glowing, magma-like spittle when she barks. Whenever a hellhound bites her victim, their flesh is charred, but alternatively, a hell hound can simply exhale her inner fire, engulfing all in front of her in flaming breath. Like a devil, hell hounds are entirely fireproof, thus allowing hell hounds to use their flames liberally, even when their allies are in the thick of combat. This nonflammability seems to wear off when a hell hound is killed in battle, for there is no other death the fiends are capable of suffering. When a hell hound dies, her internal flame quickly sets her alight, burning her body and often its surroundings, should they be appropriately flammable, down to naught but ash and a few singed tufts of fur.

Infernal Companions

Being naturally lawful and committed to cooperation, hell hounds are perfectly able to cooperate with other evil beings, so long as it is to their advantage. When siding with other fiends, particularly devils, the alliance is normally one of convenience; it is better to combine power against intruders than to fritter it away in constant meaningless scuffles.

Sometimes, however, hell hounds are drawn fully away from their fiendish brethren thanks to summons into other realms. Like many other fiends, hell hounds cannot transport themselves between planes by their own power, even in the unlikely event where one finds herself with a power or magical item made to do so. To pass through the planes, hell hounds must either find a portal they can physically step through or be summoned by one already present on the plane.

Though most people have a reasonable fear of the evil of hell hounds and would not conjure them even if it were possible, many wicked individuals, especially those with less to fear of their fiery breath, prize hell hounds as exotic and powerful pets. Common hell hound owners include fire giants, efreet, hags, and salamanders. One particularly attractive point for these villains is the relatively low personal cost hell hounds demand for their absolute loyalty. While other fiends may demand mortal souls or sacrifices for their assistance, the reward for a hell hound is the act of being brought to a realm full of innocent, sometimes even good creatures for her to kill. As long as her master doesn’t try to restrict her desire to take advantage of this banquet excessively, being summoned to the Material or any other non-evil-infested plane is payment enough for a hell hound to remain loyal all a master’s mortal life.

A hell hound is capable of all the talents of an ordinary canine companion, bolstered with an almost human intellect, an understanding of language (particularly Infernal), and a devastating fire breath. The senses of a hell hound, especially her senses of smell and hearing, are sharp. Virtually nothing can hide from a hell hound’s ears, and, given a sample of a scent, she can follow a trail that is days old, letting her track down and tear apart anyone who would flee her master, chasing them to the ends of the world should they call for it. As well as pursuit, hell hounds also have remarkable patience within them, able to stay in one spot or follow at their master’s side and stand guard, never once abandoning their post, and constantly ready to destroy any unwelcome visitor.

The intensive loyalty of a hell hound has its limits, however. A hell hound is first and foremost a killer and a fiend; no effort can change that. Any attempt to make a hell hound into a force for good or to suppress her murderous instincts will shatter her loyalty to her master, causing her to abandon them to enact her wicked desires on her own terms. If such a restrained hell hound has the chance, she will almost certainly make her master the first victim of her escape.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hell Hounds

Like many fiends, hell hounds are functionally immortal until they are killed by an outside force. In realities as hostile as the Lower Planes, deaths will befall a hell hound pack. The strength of a hell hound pack, and thus the survivability of its individual members, depends on the pack’s numbers more than anything; it is thus vital that surviving hell hounds recoup their losses. Unlike other fiends, however, hell hounds are not spontaneously spawned by their native planes, nor are they created by the souls of the damned. Instead, hell hounds are some of the few fiends able to breed among themselves.

Hell hound mating, being between fiends, is not a loving affair. Still, it is not the violent, horrendous performance one may expect either. Hell hounds mate out of necessity, not because they like having sex. This businesslike approach to reproduction also means that hell hound packs hold strict control over their numbers. While bigger packs can exert more power, more compatriots also mean more individuals to share spoils with and more individuals to challenge one another for dominance in the pack. Therefore, hell hounds in areas where prey is scarce tend to limit their packs to a small size, going so far as to cull the unnecessary members, while in places where foes are strong or plentiful, hell hounds can breed so rapidly that they can grow into a pack of hundreds ready to ravage the land in a matter of years.

When hell hounds decide to breed with each other, the pregnancy generally takes only a couple of months and does little to make the mother more vulnerable. Being hampered by pregnancy is not a limitation that can be afforded by the denizens of the Lower Planes. Extended whelping periods are also not an affordable limitation. Hell hound pups are able to run, sense their surroundings, and bite from birth and will grow to full size and power within a year. Being fiends, hell hound pups are born wicked and, even away from the influence of their parents, cannot be raised to be anything but murderous.

Another trait in breeding that stems from a hell hound’s fiendish nature is her ability to successfully mate with and impregnate all manner of mortal creatures, should she, for some reason, not simply kill them. Hell hounds seem, by preference, to target animals for their fiendish copulation, mostly dogs owned by their mortal masters or wolves whose packs they dominate when running wild. The result of a fiendish creature like a hell hound impregnating a natural beast is a half-fiendish animal, a beast generally similar to its mortal parent’s kind but with a natural resilience against fire and a vicious temperament. Though they generally don’t without outside compulsion, hell hounds can also impregnate female humanoids, resulting in a being similar to a tiefling, save for a few vaguely canine features.

Men to Hell Hounds

When a hell hound meets a mortal man, she is generally interested only in trying to kill him. This, however, would be equally true if she were to instead meet a mortal woman. Hell hounds generally do not care about the sex of their prey and proceed in the same violent way regardless. Trying to seduce a hell hound is a losing proposition; hell hounds only feel drawn to mate for practical reasons, and the canine tieflings they birth after being fucked by a humanoid man are fairly useless as far as packmates go.

The only way a man can earn a hell hound’s loyalty is by summoning her as a woman could, and similarly, a hell hound will turn on her male summoner if he lacks the immorality to let her indulge in her murderous tendencies. Still, if a man is evil enough to keep and abide by a hell hound’s presence on the Material Plane, she will maintain loyalty to him, not even taking issue with being fucked or even impregnated by him, even feigning passion and desperate lust in order to please her master.

Being naturally existing fiends with no mortal souls incorporated into the process of their existence, hell hounds are thought to be an all-female race of fiends. Still, rumours do circulate of a male hell hound, an ancient being that ravages the wombs of all it encounters and has seeded lands with packs of its accursed, fiend-blooded offspring. How such a hell hound would come to be is the subject of many, likely apocryphal, stories.

Most of these tales centre around a male dog or wolf that somehow had moral insight beyond what is normal for his kind and used that gift to commit acts so evil that his soul became a hell hound after death. In some versions, a druid or other spellcaster gave the animal humanoid intellect, and he fell to evil the same way any person could; in others, the canine was the mate of a hag, fiend, or mortal villainess whose bond to him dragged his spirit to the Lower Planes with her. In others, he was rejected by a woman so evil that his bestial soul pursued hers to her afterlife in the name of revenge, being corrupted in the process.

Chapter 152: Helmed Horror

For spellcasters capable of enacting the necessary magic, constructs provide the benefit of an utterly loyal servant who needs no pay, food, or rest. The downside of a construct is that it often needs much more external input than a flesh and blood underling would call for, requiring precise instructions to follow and being incapable of changing tactics by themselves if the situation changes. The average golem or suit of animated armour, for example, when ordered to simply take a fragile vase to another room, may pick up the vase, walk into the other room, and simply drop it on the hard ground, not thinking for a moment that the one commanding it may have wanted the vase intact, a presumption most mortal labourers would have made automatically.

This limitation of constructs is mostly mitigated by going the extra mile, using rarer and more costly magics to gift a suit of armour with not only mobility but also a simple cognisance that allows it to understand its creator’s intentions over the literal terms of their commands. Also loaded with other magical boons, these so-called helmed horrors can serve as elite warriors for their creators, terrifying in battle and still perfectly obedient, their comprehension not coming with any form of emotion or personal ambition.

Advanced Enchantments

To make a helmed horror, a craftsman must have not only a specific knowledge of animating magic but also a variety of mental enchantments and a vast array of protective charms and other spells. As well as a vast library of spells, the creation of a helmed horror also calls for a skilled armourer to make the armour to be animated to some precise specifications and a skilled warrior, whose combat and tactical knowledge can be copied into the construct.

When all of this expertise is brought together, a helmed horror is made, a construct of such powerful magic that a glow of palpable magic emanates from within the armour whenever it is in motion. This glow dims to near invisibility when a helmed horror is inactive, making it nearly indistinguishable from a regular set of armour, albeit a particularly ornate one, thanks to the physical requirements of the magic instilled into it.

In combat, the helmed horror has not only the defensive capabilities of a knight in plate mail but also a preternatural resilience thanks to an array of protective charms. Mundane weapons do well if they even dent or scratch a helmed horror’s enchanted body. Only likewise enchanted weaponry or weapons made of adamantine, a metal known for its ability to sunder armour, can overcome a helmed horror’s magical defences.

Helmed horrors are protected against more than simple, mundane combatants, however. The metal of a helmed horror’s armour is abjured against magical energy, making spells of raw magic, such as the go-to Magic Missile, bounce off of her entirely, while other spells struggle to take full effect on her. To go even further, most creators inscribe the inverted version of a handful of common offensive spells into their helmed horror’s very being. When these spells target the horror, the inverted version activates, cancelling out the spell’s effect on it.

As well as direct combat, many helmed horrors are tasked with guarding an individual or place. To help with this, helmed horrors have the ability to preternaturally sense their surroundings. With keen perceptive abilities, a helmed horror can see through illusions and even spot the invisible with ease. Once a helmed horror has a target in her sights, few obstacles can get in her way, for a helmed horror is enchanted with supernatural flight.

Limited Tactics

When most animated objects fight, they usually just throw themselves at their opponent, swinging and striking without coordination until their foe is down, their creator calls them off, or they are reduced to inert scrap. This is not so with helmed horrors. Instilled with the experience of a seasoned warrior, helmed horrors are capable of utilising an array of fighting styles depending on the situation and what they have to hand. Traditionally, to suit their goals as guardians, helmed horrors are equipped with a one-handed weapon such as a longsword or flail and a shield, but most helmed horrors are able to adapt to different armaments, from thrown javelins to polearms, heavy weaponry, and even ranged weapons like crossbows and bows.

As well as what they fight with, helmed horrors are also mindful of how they fight. When faced with multiple opponents, a helmed horror can assess each one and make reasonable assumptions as to their potential threat and vulnerabilities. A helmed horror can then, using the superior mobility allowed by her flight, move to attack more vulnerable opponents, such as spellcasters and healers, in order to more quickly level the playing field. A helmed horror can also respond to the nature and actions of its allies, be they other helmed horrors, simpler constructs, or even flesh-and-blood combatants. A helmed horror can thus entrust certain enemies to allies better equipped to fight them, focus an assault on particular weak links, or notice when an ally is flagging and shift tactics to support them.

Though strategically gifted for a construct, helmed horrors aren’t tactically omniscient. Most of the alterations a helmed horror can make in the name of an advantage in combat are limited to changing her own behaviour. Conversely, helmed horrors generally lack the mental faculties to make changes to their environments. Barricading an entrance, constructing traps, or even just equipping themselves with a superior weapon is generally beyond the capabilities of a helmed horror who has not been told to do so.

Also, like many constructs, a helmed horror has no concept of fear or self-preservation beyond simply hazard avoidance; unless given the order to retreat, a helmed horror will fight to its own destruction. If a helmed horror is not destroyed in the line of its duty, it will continue to obey its last orders until it is given new ones. If the master of a helmed horror dies, their construct will continue to do whatever they were last told to do until they are destroyed. A helmed horror may thus spend centuries awaiting orders that never come, patrolling long abandoned hallways, or guarding a keep that crumbles into ruins around it, never once deviating from its assignment.

Sex and Sexuality Among Helmed Horrors

Being a construct made by magic for the specific purpose of combat and guardianship, helmed horrors lack the drive or ability to breed or seek love. Still, as an animate being, helmed horrors do require basic female parts in order to function, namely a pair of breasts and a vagina. Like other armour-based constructs, people tend to cover a helmed horror’s tits and pussy with a mundane breastplate and either a crotch plate or skirt. As with other constructs, these modesty pieces are rarely instilled with any magical protection against degradation, meaning that, with a lack of any sense of shame, abandoned helmed horrors in derelict dungeons fight on with their nudity fully exposed.

Though lacking in sexual desire, helmed horrors are in some ways unusually suited to sexually servicing their creators. The main sexual issue with most constructs comes down to how direct most are with following orders. In most cases, sex is a surprisingly complicated process of reaction and sensitivity to one’s lover. Most constructs, however, lack the insight to respond to a person’s desires and reactions, making the act of instructing them to make love to a person a clumsy, limb-gnawingly technical process.

Helmed horrors, however, are designed to be sensitive to their mistress’ desires rather than the content of her orders. Just as a helmed horror can note the moves of an assailant and riposte, it can also notice how a lover behaves and thus focus on pleasuring them. Still, helmed horrors are far from perfect lovers, their bulky, cold metal bodies making them less than ideal in bed. As such, few women use helmed horrors for sexual purposes, and fewer still go to the great expense of creating a helmed horror for primarily sexual reasons.

Men to Helmed Horrors

With no will of their own, helmed horrors have neither love nor hatred for men; their reaction to a man largely depends on how he factors into their orders. Still, due to the nature of a helmed horror's ability to analyse those around it and make tactical assumptions based on what it sees, a helmed horror can almost certainly distinguish the difference between a man and a woman and may make decisions based on that difference. A helmed horror may assume that a man within a party of adventurers is more likely to be the leader, or his compatriots may be driven to make tactically unsound decisions to defend him, for example.

As well as purely practical decisions around men, helmed horrors can also pick up on subtle clues to their mistress’ feelings around men and respond accordingly. While a helmed horror is most likely to change its tactics according to sex when directly told to, a helmed horror notes down everything about what its commander says and does and thus builds an internal profile about them, including their desire or hatred of a man. If a helmed horror feels that its master is misandrist and would be pleased by the destruction of men, it may focus its assault on a male intruder and be less willing to let a fleeing man escape with his life. On the other hand, a helmed horror that has figured its mistress as being desperate to lay with any kind of man may seek to render a man unconscious where it would otherwise kill or repel him, holding him prisoner until the mistress checks on them. In the event that a helmed horror’s mistress has been dead for several centuries, this less lethal response may be worse for the men concerned.

When it comes to sex with themselves, helmed horrors generally do not cooperate with unfamiliar men unless they are ordered to. Thanks to its analytic mind, however, a helmed horror is able to guess when her sexual cooperation would be expedient for her commander, in order to keep a male prisoner occupied, or when a man is a known friend of hers, for example. As such, a helmed horror doesn’t always need to be ordered to fuck a man and may be persuaded non-violently to do so, since helmed horrors can understand and comprehend most arguments put to them in a language their creator understood. Persuading a helmed horror to have sex is not like normal seduction, however. With no ego or personal desires, one cannot charm a helmed horror, conversationally or magically. Instead, one must present a sound (though not necessarily true) argument as to why fucking a man is beneficial to completing the orders left by the person she obeys.

Compared to many constructs, helmed horrors feel a lot more alive to have sex with, responding and reacting in silent mimicry of how many real women behave. Ultimately, though, helmed horrors are not truly alive, and their wombs are simply an inert containment area made of metal or arcane force, making it impossible to create true life within. Very rarely, however, the life force within a man’s sperm can react with the helmed horror’s animating magic and create a phenomenon akin to pregnancy. Over a few weeks, the abdominal plate of the armour bulges out like a pregnant belly.

When the “pregnancy” reaches term at roughly three months, the helmed horror will undergo a series of behaviours similar to giving birth, only for its belly bulge to disappear and no physical entity to be born. However, something does escape the helmed horror’s metal vagina: an invisible, incorporeal mass of transmutative magic. Inherently unstable, this mass of magic will collapse back into the arcane weave after twenty-four hours unless it funds an appropriate item to anchor itself on, namely, an unenchanted suit of plate mail. When magical mass and metal meet, the armour instantly animates, becoming a construct loyal to the man who impregnated its mother." The duplication process is not perfect, however. During the helmed horror’s "pregnancy,” only the magic of permanent animation is copied. As such, the “child” of a helmed horror is not a helmed horror but only a common suit of animated armour.

Chapter 153: Hippogriff (Art)

With their true origins, be it somewhat natural or from intentional magical tampering, lost to time, hippogriffs are hybrid monsters with the body and hindquarters of a horse, the wings and forelimbs of a raptorial bird, and a head and behavioural habits that incorporates parts of both animals. Despite their clearly supernatural nature, hippogriffs have found a place in nature while causing little disruption, occupying a very humble place and surviving in a manner akin to many more natural beasts.

Split Lives

Half a large herbivorous prey animal, half a majestic bird of prey, hippogriffs live lives that take elements from both creatures in order to survive. Though solitary or pairs of hippogriffs are not uncommon, hippogriffs normally congregate in small herds, normally consisting of around two to five mated pairs and their young. Command of a hippogriff herd is usually sequential, when in flight, hippogriffs generally fly with the most dominant hippogriff in front, followed by their mate and foals, followed by the next most dominant and their mate and foals and so on. When dominance is in question, hippogriffs fight by shoving, kicking, and striking with the wings, never by use of their sharp beaks or talons.

For the most part, hippogriffs eat plants, plucking fruits, nuts, and the seed heads of grasses with their beaks and grinding it down with the more horse-like teeth at the back of their elongated skulls. However, as can be ascertained by her hooked beak and raptorial talons on her front legs, hippogriffs are not averse to eating meat. With eyes like an eagle’s, a hippogriff can spot prey even while flying miles above. Hippogriffs may occasionally target halflings or unattended children, but otherwise tend not to prey on bigger humanoids. More common prey for hippogriffs includes rabbits, larger waterfowl, and small deer, creatures that a hippogriff can bolt down in one or two bites, for hippogriffs prefer not to linger over a large carcass. For one thing, hippogriffs are nervous creatures and seldom find it within themselves to hold their ground against scavengers. Secondly, the smell of meat attracts predators, predators that hippogriffs take great pains to avoid.

Though capable of taking down their preferred prey, hippogriffs are not top predators, not by a long shot. Indeed, there are many creatures that would make a meal out of a hippogriff if given the chance. When it comes to more mundane predators, adult hippogriffs are fairly safe, being far to big to be targeted by hawks and eagles, while they can simply fly away at the approach of the likes of wolves and bears. Instead, a hippogriff’s main predators are fellow monstrous or otherwise supernatural creatures including dragons, manticores, perytons, and the similar, more leonine griffons who seem especially fond of their horse-like flesh.

Flying Mounts

Aside from being slightly more open to carnivory every now and then, hippogriffs have a temperament not dissimilar to that of ordinary wild horses. While both creatures are flighty and nervous around potential predators, they also have a rigid social system with a hierarchy and respect for whoever (or whatever) is at the top of that ranking. Thanks to these similarities, it has not taken long for many sapient races to look at hippogriffs and wonder if it would be possible to domesticate them as one would a horse and thus gain the enviable prize of an airborne steed.

In truth, however, taming hippogriffs comes with a collection of challenges unique to their kind. For one thing, while horses may run when spooked, hippogriffs take flight, making the art of tracking a herd even more difficult. Secondly, if a horse doesn’t like its rider, it may buck or kick. A hippogriff can take off, bank, roll, and quite possibly drop its rider from hundreds of feet in the air. Even if the fall wasn’t far enough to be lethal, an enraged hippogriff has the predatory beak and talons to finish their would-be master off. As such, hippogriff tamers tend to be hardy, brave individuals, often with at least a little magical talent, particularly access to the Feather Fall spell.

While some tamers go for whole herds of hippogriffs, aiming to break in the dominant adult and let the social mechanics of hippogriffs disseminate their power to the rest, other tamers aim for more targeted approaches, taking a hippogriff foal. On the one hand, hippogriff foals are less able to avoid handlers, being weaker than adults and normally unable to fly for the first few weeks of life. However, hippogriffs are particularly protective over their young, and many an inexperienced wrangler has met their end trying to separate a foal from its mother.

Of course, going to the trouble of taking a hippogriff from the wild is only really called for if one doesn’t have a stable population of hippogriffs that are already tame. In certain well-developed places, hippogriffs are kept and bred domestically. Still, it is rare for these domestic herds to grow too large, since the facilities, training, and materials needed to safely keep flying, slightly carnivorous steeds in fine fettle can quickly become exorbitantly expensive, even for nobility.

Once used to humanoid presence, hippogriffs are surprisingly easy to train compared to other monstrous mounts, learning to accept a rider and to tolerate many situations. A well-trained hippogriff is a dependable and loyal steed, though its true applications are rather specific. Though strong, hippogriffs are less mobile on the ground thanks to a somewhat awkward arrangement of limbs. Hauling things behind them in flight is also mechanically difficult, unless the vehicle or load is itself capable of flight too. As such, hauling and heavy lifting are normally better left to ordinary draft horses instead. A hippogriff’s true benefit is its aerial manoeuvrability. With strategic rest stops in place, a hippogriff with rider can cover one hundred miles in a little over a day, bypassing marshes, mountains, and other geographic barriers with ease. If trained to stand the chaos of battle, a hippogriff can allow its rider to strike from above with deadly speed, dashing in and out of combat while taking out key enemy forces.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hippogriffs

Like much of a hippogriff’s life, their sexual habits are an odd combination of a horse’s and a bird’s. Unlike horses, hippogriffs do not form harems around the single most dominant member of their herd. Instead, adult hippogriffs, aged around three or four years, who have a similar level of dominance in the herd, form pairs, much like many birds do. Between mating seasons, a hippogriff may change partners, trying to win over a more dominant hippogriff if she becomes available. Hippogriffs proposition each other with dance-like steps and shrieking cries, while using low-level violence to sort out the pecking order.

In the spring, hippogriff pairs mate with each other, normally with the more dominant one in the pair endeavouring to impregnate her subordinate. A hippogriff’s pregnancy lasts almost a year, at the end of which she will give birth to a single, live foal. Though able to walk within hours of birth, a hippogriff foal normally needs around two or three weeks to become capable of flight. To keep the foal safe during this time, hippogriffs birth them in nests on mountain plateaus or forest clearings. With one parent staying by their side to fiercely defend them from anything that might try to prey on them.

Unlike horses, hippogriffs do not breastfeed their foals, likely due to the sharpness of their beaks. Instead, hippogriff parents take turns going out and gathering solid food for their baby, coming back with fruit and small animals for it to feed on. Once the foal can fly, it joins its parents in the air, learning to gather its own food under their protection. Most foals become totally independent fillies at around two years old.

While many monsters show a reticence to breed in captivity, requiring them to be taken from the wild, hippogriffs do not. Why this is can only be guessed at, but some theorise that by being part horse and part hawk, two creatures commonly tamed by humanoids, the potential for docility and comfortably mating while tamed is somewhat hardwired into them.

Men to Hippogriffs

Hippogriffs seem not only able to distinguish men from women but also instinctually recognise the potential for humanoid men to breed them. How a hippogriff responds to this knowledge depends on a range of factors, including how they encountered the man, their position in the herd, and whether or not they are used to humanoids.

In wild herds, low-ranking hippogriffs tend to be nervously curious around men. If a man is aggressive or just overactive, such hippogriffs will likely flee or perhaps lash out violently if he gets too close. However, if a man is patient, his masculinity seems to give him an edge at persuading a lower-ranked hippogriff to let him impregnate her, possibly with her hoping he will give her stronger offspring. Some accounts even say that wild hippogriffs have helped men out in exchange for sex.

Still, a man looking to fuck an immediately cooperative hippogriff should keep an eye out in case her superiors are watching. Stronger, more dominant hippogriffs tend to see men as a threat to their dominance and, as such, will try to disrupt mating between men and their subordinates, trying to bully the man into place beneath her. The wrath of a leading hippogriff can lead to injury for an unwitting man, but it can be easily assuaged by simply fighting back. While full-blown warfare will likely cause the whole herd to flee, simply standing up to a bullying hippogriff and pushing back can quickly establish a man’s dominance and earn him the right to fuck the entire herd.

Where hippogriffs are tamed, the hard work of teaching them to see humanoids as dominant to them has already been done by their handlers. As such, tame hippogriffs are normally visibly eager to be bred by a man, and a man needs only deal with the aforementioned handlers in order to fuck their mounts to his heart's content. How hippogriff riders respond to men looking to fuck their mounts varies; some will take offence, others see the practicality of letting a man breed the monster for them, but most will need convincing, normally through either seduction of the rider themselves or by the performance of some kind of favour.

With the ability to offer sexual pleasure and impregnation to their mount, men are in some ways naturally advantaged in taming a hippogriff, and some men are known for their personally tamed hippogriff mounts. Still, this doesn’t make it easy for a man to tame a hippogriff, and many overconfident men have ended up humiliatingly injured from blindly charging a wild hippogriff and expecting it to automatically submit to him.

Male hippogriffs are born with a moderate frequency as far as males are concerned. Generally, a herd with a hippogriff stallion has a much more horse-like social arrangement, with the females forming a harem around him, with more dominant females expecting more frequent sex and preferential treatment. Trying to tame a male hippogriff rarely succeeds, since he will only accept a position of absolute dominance in his herd. If humanoid wranglers try to mess with a male hippogriff, he will likely see them as potential mates and fight back, trying to aggressively breed them. Even on the few occasions a male hippogriff has accepted a rider, he usually treats her more like a lover in need of help and protection rather than a mistress to be blindly obeyed.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 154: Hobgoblin

Thanks to the reputation of their smaller relatives, people fortunate enough to have never met hobgoblins often imagine that they are primitive, simple-minded, and uncoordinated. Unfortunately, this could not be further from the truth. Standing about as tall as a human, hobgoblins have skin tones in various tones of orange and red, dark hair, and bestial eyes either yellow or dark brown with very little white to them. A hobgoblin also has a few more features to their bodies that are subtly bestial, with clawlike finger and toenails and flattened, animalistic noses, often red or blue in individuals who have lived more than a few decades in their harsh society, a mark of power and authority among their kind.

Despite how they are pictured by the unknowing, hobgoblins have a highly developed culture at the fringes of civilisation, all cantered around their kind’s single cause, war. Working in intensive discipline, hobgoblins maintain an exacting hierarchy based on martial command, with complete loyalty expected from subordinates and harsh consequences for disobedience. From this firm setup, hobgoblins can collectively form armies with solidly made equipment, sometimes ingenious tactics, and no mercy when the war horns sound.

Legions of Maglubiyet

Hobgoblins belong to a collection of creatures known as the goblinoids, which also features goblins and bugbears. Despite the association between the three races, there is no verified familial lineage to unite hobgoblins with the rest of goblinoid kind. Instead, goblinoids are linked to each other by the power of a single goddess, Maglubiyet, the goddess of all goblinoids. Once, each goblinoid race had its own pantheon of racial goddesses, most of whom have had their names forgotten to time. One by one, Maglubiyet besieged these pantheons, destroying most of the goddesses and sparing only those that accepted a subservient role to her. It was through this brutal act of divine conquest that Maglubiyet also claimed dominion over all mortal goblinoids, including the hobgoblins.

Unlike the other goblinoid races, hobgoblins generally do not follow Maglubiyet out of terror or begrudging acceptance, but out of pride and respect. In the eyes of the hobgoblins, it was a good thing that Maglubiyet, a strong, disciplined goddess, took them from a weaker pantheon, thus elevating them to the position of soldiers for a worthy cause.

Hobgoblins believe that, when they die, their souls will be taken to Acheron to become soldiers in Maglubiyet’s immortal army, a role they take with pride. Still, hobgoblins do not spend their lives simply waiting for death. Hobgoblins believe their station in Acheron will depend on their track record in the realm of the living. As such, hobgoblins endeavour to make their deity proud in an endless mission of warfare and conquest.

Being a society geared completely to the prosecution of war, hobgoblins rarely have farmers in their number, instead surviving by hunting, gathering, and looting whatever they can from their enemies. Generally, this lifestyle puts hobgoblins in a cycle of settlement and warlike nomadism. In times of relative peace, hobgoblins set up in camps, lines of tents protected by trenches and wooden palisades, or in ruins or caves that they could fortify. In this time, hobgoblin smiths and engineers build weapons, armour, and siege equipment, while rank and file soldiers train, gather supplies, and prepare for the peace to end. When the time for war has come, as determined by the legion’s warlord, the whole army uproots itself and marches out to conquer a new stretch of land to occupy taking all their victims possess as loot and any survivors as slaves.

If enough legions rise at the same time and manage to resist the urge to make war on each other, they may march out together as a vast, horrifying army known as a Host. With forces and resources to challenge whole kingdoms, a hobgoblin Host holds the potential to lay waste to the lands they invade, sometimes even to the point of ruling a politically significant piece of land for generations, until outside pressure and stretched resources slow the army’s momentum, turning the Host’s forces in on itself, the hobgoblin empire tearing itself apart.

A lot more formally organised and better prepared than their brethren, not to mention being Maglubiyet’s undisputed favourite mortal servants, hobgoblins tend to dominate other goblinoids whenever they meet. Using their superior access to better equipment, food, and loot, hobgoblins often bribe packs of bugbears into service as stealthy scouts, brutal assassins, and powerful shock troops. On the other hand, goblins are easy enough to simply threaten into compliance, being used as menial labourers and expendable grunt soldiers that are marched into battle with hobgoblin spears and blades at their backs.

Personal Perimeters

When encountering a hobgoblin, rare for them to act as individuals. Typically, a rank-and-file hobgoblin typically completes her assigned task with efficiency and as little communication as possible. Leaving any form of necessary diplomacy to their captain, the direct commander of their squad. A hobgoblin captain acts in the name of their warlord and is heavily discouraged from acting for her own desires in front of anyone outside her own squad, lest it be seen as insubordination. At the very top, a hobgoblin warlord, wishes to rake in as much fame, respect, and glory for herself by how she manages her legion as possible and thus avoids exposing anything about her internal self to those around her, lest it be exploited.

Still, all hobgoblins haves personal drives, desires and feelings. Generally, a hobgoblin desires power and control, and failing that she desires the favour of those that have it, for hobgoblins are raised to believe that the world is their enemy, and unless they are constantly minding their own safety and keeping an handle on their personal situation, the world will crush them. Hobgoblins believe that their legion is strong because it is made out of strong squads, and that squads are strong because they are made of stern warriors, soldiers who will not flinch at danger, who will march to their deaths when ordered to, and hold no compassion in their hearts. If any one link in this grand chain falters, it must be purged before the whole legion collapses. As such, there is an immense amount of pressure on hobgoblins of all ranks to obey orders, respect tradition, and supress all doubts inside them.

When compelled to speak for themselves, a hobgoblin is typically terse, brief, and to the point, stating all they feel needs to be said and nothing more, lest their loose lips give their rivals and enemies an advantage. The directness with which a hobgoblin speaks can appear rude to other races, but this is merely an artifact of their suspicious culture, metaphors, framing clauses, and other flowery language give space for misinterpretation and outright lies. By expressing nothing but the matter at hand, a hobgoblin eliminates the chance of being misunderstood and proves their honesty.

Though very willing to be cruel and merciless, hobgoblins are loathe to show actual rudeness, even to their enemies. Among hobgoblins, insults and threats are not made idly, and are the responsibility of the speaker to prove or back up under the threat of harsh punishment and humiliation for their cowardice and slander. If a hobgoblin insults someone, it is a genuine assessment they felt  necessary to express, likely with a whole catalogue of proof ready should they be challenged. A hobgoblin that makes a threat does so with the completely serious intention of following through exactly as they said they would.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hobgoblins

As with many emotions, hobgoblins consider love and excessive lust to be signs of weakness in the expressor. Most hobgoblins would rather die than declare to be hampered by any form of love out loud. Even sexual desire is expressed with limited enthusiasm. A hobgoblin would virtually never say, “I want you.” Such an expression of dependence would make her seem weak and needy to her fellows. Instead, a hobgoblin may say something along the lines of “You seem like an acceptable collaborator to produce my progeny with; mate with me.” Typically, such “couples,” as far as they can be called that, are composed of similar-ranked hobgoblins from the same or allied squads.

Surprisingly, for all the evil that goes on among their kind, hobgoblins generally engage in very little rape. For hobgoblins, the act of forcing oneself upon somebody too weak to fend you off usually reeks of personal desperation while also destabilising the legion, a crime punishable by severe torture, if not execution.

According to the strict rulings of the legion, hobgoblins are permitted to have sex only during times of temporary peace. Concerns or reproduction are mere distractions while persecuting a war, and since all hobgoblins are first and foremost soldiers of their legion, intentionally getting pregnant when one is expected to fight is considered a form of desertion, for which one will be executed. Still, a hobgoblin pregnancy lasts seven months on average, and times can quite unexpectedly turn from peace to war during this time. Far from being punished, hobgoblins fortunate enough to be pregnant when war is declared and give birth while it is being waged are considered to have their birth blessed by Maglubiyet herself. From birth, the child is known as Warborn, a title they will hold their entire life. As a manifestation of Maglubiyet’s will, young Warborn are carried into battle like banners, meant to inspire the troops that carry them.

Warborn or not, young hobgoblins are raised in a cold, regimented manner. Maturing at a similar rate to humans, hobgoblins carry the name of their birth mother in their personal title, with their behaviour and achievements reflecting on her. As such, hobgoblins put an immense amount of pressure on their children to be unthinkingly obedient and unfailingly perfect, not hesitating to punish slip-ups brutally. By the time a hobgoblin child is around five or so, she will be carrying equipment and running messages; by ten, she will be helping to build siege engines and hunting for food. Most hobgoblins join the ranks of their legion as front-line soldiers as young as fourteen.

The power of a hobgoblin’s parental name works both ways, however. The exploits of a hobgoblin’s mother earn them as much respect as their actions earn her. The child of a hobgoblin captain or warlord may receive further boons, getting better training, superior treatment, and preferential consideration when promotions come around. At the same time, politically powerful hobgoblins often judge others who bear the names of their rivals, treating them unfairly and perpetuating these blood feuds down the generations.

Men to Hobgoblins

On the whole, hobgoblins generally dislike men, for most men are defiant to tyrannical rule when they aren’t at the top by nature and often have the adventuring and combat experience to make them a pain to enforce dominance upon. Hobgoblins also dislike the overt sexuality of men, considering their preoccupation with sex above other things such as personal power to be a weakness, though not one many hobgoblins are thrilled to exploit unless things are desperate. In most legions, having sex with a man, in and of itself, is rarely a crime, though finding a way to do it that doesn’t violate some other law, such as not having sex in an active combat situation or not to submit to an enemy force, is often a bureaucratic nightmare.

Though they do not submit to enemies idly, hobgoblins are usually smart enough to recognise when they’ve been bested and will usually choose to do what it takes to survive to prove themselves to Maglubiyet another day, no matter what that may be. Therefore, a man able to defeat a hobgoblin in single combat can often force her to have sex with him or even to have his baby. Some men, typically of wicked, power-hungry temperament, have used their own great power and ability of sexual dominance to fight their way into ruling a hobgoblin legion, taking the place of the warlord, to have them fuck and fight for his nefarious goals.

Assuming the whole legion doesn’t fall to him, a hobgoblin who survives an encounter with a man by sexually submitting to him normally receives a mixed reception from her legion. Recognising it was not by her choice, a hobgoblin impregnated by her encounter is normally spared execution. Still, by having to resort to, or allowing herself to be forced into, such a lurid situation by an enemy, a hobgoblin proves her weakness—that she has failed to maintain her part in the fortitude of the legion, thus likely resulting in derision and punishment from her superiors. As such, many hobgoblins will attempt to save face by hiding details of their rape from their fellows or restore their honour by going on a quest to try and kill the man.

On the rare occasion a hobgoblin is born male, it is normally not a celebrated event. With the same propensity to strike out for themselves as other male humanoids, male hobgoblins chafe under the strictures of the hobgoblin hierarchy, rebelling against their superiors, with punishment only breeding resentment. Hobgoblins also give their males no allowance for their sexual desires, demanding they suppress what can’t be suppressed until his sex drive inevitably turns rapacious and gives his superiors leave to punish or kill him.

As such, male hobgoblins generally have three directions open to them: they can struggle and seethe until their actions lead to execution; they can rapidly gain the power to dominate and claim dominion over the rest of the legion, becoming a tyrannical warlord who leads his troops in search of new lands for him to conquer and new women for him to rape; or they can risk the punishment for desertion and escape. Out from under the thumb of his kind and the doctrine of Maglubiyet, runaway male hobgoblins can develop in all sorts of ways, making them able to become all sorts of men, be that for better or for worse.

Chapter 155: Homunculus

A rat sized, somewhat mammalian-looking thing with batlike wings and a mouth of tiny, needle-like teeth, a homunculus can look for all the world to be a living, if somewhat strange creature, perhaps a rare animal or hybrid monstrosity bred through magical experimentation. In reality, however, a homunculus lacks many of the internal features necessary for life, with no functional organs or the like. Despite appearances, homunculi are constructs, made from materials in an alchemical lab and brought to life by magic. Bonded magically to whoever made them, a homunculus is an utterly loyal companion to its creator, acting as an extension of their will from the moment of its creation until the very end of their lives.

Constructed Companion

The complex methodology for producing a homunculus has been derived from all manner of sources over the years, passed down between wizards in hidden back rooms, isolated towers, and great lecture halls alike. The truth of the recipe is often obscured by traditions and intentional misdirection’s, as well as the confusion among lay people as to the difference between a homunculus and other magical companions, such as familiars. In simple terms, a familiar is an already existent spirit, typically from one of the Outer Planes or the Feywild, that a spellcaster magically conjures to their realm, biding them to take the form of a small animal and be their companion. On the other hand, a homunculus is made, not conjured, the ritual involved granting the raw materials a semblance of life rather than inviting something already living to attend your needs.

Though the specifics are a little complex, the ritual for creating a homunculus must be performed by someone capable of at least some magic. To start with the spellcaster must fill a bowl or similar vessel with a mixture of clay, ashes, and a mandrake root. Once the first three ingredients are combined, one must then recite the necessary incantation while taking a specially made, bejewelled dagger and cutting across one’s own palm. Adding the shed blood to the mixture, the incantation must then continue for another hour. At the end of this spell, the mixture should transform into a small, winged creature; a homunculus, automatically loyal to whoever’s blood went into its creation.

Two Bodies, One Mind

While it is common to call a homunculus loyal to its creator, this assessment is arguably inaccurate. Being a mass of magically animated clay and other matter, homunculi lack minds of their own. When a spellcaster put their blood into the mix, they created a fundamental link between their own mind and the mindless little creature that they were creating. As such, a homunculus is essentially a part of its creator, a part capable of flying around and acting autonomously.

Though a homunculus may look and occasionally act like a small animal and lack the ability to speak, it possesses all of the knowledge, desires, and goals of its creator inside its little head. To maintain a consistent unity of their minds, homunculi possess a constant stream of telepathic communications with their creator, both knowing each other’s thoughts and being able to transmit what they see and hear in real time. The two minds effectively act as one, though they are able to concentrate on separate activities. Utterly unaffected by distance, only antimagic fields and the boundaries between planes of existence can disrupt a homunculus’ communications with its master.

As one can likely predict, spellcasters who go to the trouble of making themselves a homunculus can find a lot of use for a second, partially autonomous body. In combat, homunculi are of limited function; they can distract and harass foes, and their bite can sometimes cause fainting due to trace mandrake poisoning, but homunculi are generally too weak and fragile to do any real damage. Still, homunculi have their uses.

As well as being smart and attentive enough to act as an extra pair of hands in a wizard’s library or alchemist’s lab, a homunculus’ creator can also send it out into the world to act on their behalf, carrying messages or simply spying on current events, with whatever the homunculus sees being transmitted straight back to its creator.

Using one’s own mind as the impetus to direct a construct has its advantages. Homunculi never misinterpret their creator’s desires, being able to look into their minds and ascertain what they want to happen rather than blindly following the literal interpretation of what they were told to do, as many other constructs are limited by.

There are, however, some limitations to the method. Firstly, the mortal mind seems limited in how many additional bodies it can direct at one time. As such, a mortal spellcaster can only have one homunculus at once, with any subsequent attempts at the creation ritual while the original yet lives failing to net results, the magic failing to establish a mental connection. Additionally, while other constructs can conceivably keep going for thousands of years, a homunculus only lasts as long as the mind that drives it does. When its creator dies, so does the homunculus, collapsing into a pile of its constituent parts.

Sex and Sexuality Among Homunculi

As constructed beings, homunculi do not breed or otherwise reproduce in any way. Like all animate constructs, homunculi must have visibly female anatomy—breasts and a vagina—located in the same places you would expect on an actual animal with similar physiology to it, such as a squirrel or a cat. Compared to many other constructs, the pussy of a homunculus looks a lot like the flesh and blood pussy of an actual living creature. The appearance is only skin deep, however; a homunculus’ womb is as inert and infertile as any golem’s or animated object’s, and no female being can successfully get a homunculus pregnant.

For the most part, this factor matters little, for few female spellcasters envision sexual uses for their artificial magical pet. Technically, a homunculus is an extension of its creator’s will, and, as such, it would automatically consent to any sexual activity its creator was willing to try, the act being more akin to masturbation. Still, the somewhat bestial appearance of the homunculus seems to turn female spellcasters off the idea of having sex with it in a similar way to how women are generally disinclined to fuck female animals.

While directly fucking a homunculus is rare, the various traits of the construct do lend themselves to a few sexual activities, some of which have made their way into jokes wizards tell each other. One such joke goes as follows: an old wizard goes to a bathhouse and sees that they offer massages done by a very pretty masseuse for some exorbitant price. The old wizard asks the masseuse how much it would cost to get a massage for her familiar instead, showing the masseuse a little winged creature. The masseuse, assuming the wizard is off her rocker with age, decides to go along with it, letting the wizard pay her two silver pieces to spend a while petting the creature. A while later, another wizard visits the bathhouse, and the masseuse recounts the tale of the old wizard and her familiar. The new wizard stops the masseuse and informs her that the old wizard doesn’t have a familiar; she has a homunculus, the joke being, as most wizards would understand, that the old wizard had telepathically received the sensation of being rubbed down by a beautiful woman while paying a fraction of the initial price. How often homunculi are actually used in such perverse ways is hard to accurately determine.

Men to Homunculi

Its mind being an extension of its creator’s, a homunculus’ reaction to a man varies depending on the opinions and interests of the spellcaster it is connected to. For a wizard cautious of getting too close to a man, lest he try to force himself on her, a homunculus can act as the perfect intermediary, perfectly trustworthy with no doubt that it’ll choose her wellbeing rather than being swayed by a man all while providing a direct view of him. On the other hand, if a spellcaster who is favourable towards a man but can’t personally reach him despite wanting to fuck can also send her homunculus, who can then go on to have sex with him in its creator’s place, the complete sensation of fucking the man transfers over to the spellcaster through their shared senses.

While a man can fuck a homunculus with little issue, trying to breed one is far more challenging. While a homunculus may look and act like it is alive, it is fully a construct, lacking any true spark of life within itself, leaving the life in a man’s sperm with only imperfect, far less cooperative forces to try and merge with, namely, the magic that replicates life in a homunculus by allowing its animacy. If a man’s sperm manages to merge with a sliver of this magic, a difficult feat to achieve, the homunculus may undergo a process visually akin to pregnancy.

If a homunculus gets pregnant, its gestation lasts for a similar amount of time as a member of its creator’s kind. What exactly happens when it gives birth depends on a variety of factors. If the man who impregnated the homunculus is capable of at least some magic and currently has no homunculus, the full-sized homunculus the original gives birth to will immediately be linked to him, considering him its creator. Despite acting as a separate body directed by his subconscious, a man’s homunculus is still technically a separate entity from him and thus does not inherit his masculinity, remaining as female as all homunculi.

If the man lacks the necessary qualifications to have a new homunculus, being incapable of magic or already in possession of a homunculus, the pregnant mother will transmit a slight desire into its creator’s mind, a suggestion to perhaps let it bite and drink the blood of a living spellcaster with no homunculus of its own. If the creator accepts the suggestion and has their homunculus consume a fellow spellcaster’s blood, the homunculus hers gives birth to will consider the blood donor to be its creator. If the man cannot control a newborn homunculus and the pregnant homunculus is not allowed to bite an appropriate candidate, it will die during the birth of its offspring. However, the resultant homunculus will have the same abilities, memories, and loyalties as its mother and is thus practically identical to it.

Chapter 156: Hook Horror (Art)

Deep in the Underdark, clicks and clatters that can easily be mistaken for tumbling pebbles may be all the warning an adventurer receives before a hook horror strikes. Monstrous predators, a hook horror’s body seems to be a strange mix of features from vultures, rodents, and beetles, able to scurry through the dark despite standing over nine feet tall when not hunched down. The most striking feature of the hook horror, however, the one for which it attained its name, is the pair of rigid structures on the end of their forearms—a pair of long, sharp hooks made of bone and shell. Not only do these formidable appendages grant purchase on even the smoothest rock walls, but they can also rip prey asunder.

Underdark Predators

In the twisted, unpredictable caverns of the Underdark, hook horrors have established their place by becoming unflinchingly opportunistic. A hook horror will readily identify all of the edible fungi in its territory, plucking them to eat as soon as they are ripe. Most of a hook horror’s diet, however, is meat.

Never knowing what exactly will come along to eat, hook horrors keep a constant ear out for any living creature. Though a hook horror is somewhat able to see in the dark, their low-light vision being somewhat superior to a human's at short distances, it is by her incredibly astute sense of hearing that it finds its way around. Not only can hook horrors pick out the near-inaudible chittering of a giant insect’s legs or the beat of an underground rodent’s heart, but its ears can even grant it a powerful second sight. By tapping their bony hooks against each other and against the stones of the cave around them, hook horrors create surreptitious clacking sounds whose echoes can be picked up by her sensitive ears to perfectly map out her surroundings.

Able to pick out most creatures in the dark, even those hidden by cover, illusion, or even complete invisibility, few items of potential prey miss a hook horror’s notice, with virtually any beast or monster of the Underdark being on a hook horror’s menu so long as it doesn’t boast the power and inclination to prey on it. Hook horrors also tend not to turn their beaks up at intelligent prey, be they Underdark natives or visitors from the surface. Hook horrors are thus one of the many, many hazards a band of adventurers is likely to face should they venture underground. However, hook horrors are not naturally malicious creatures, and can be reasoned or bartered with, especially if one has the magical or, more rarely, linguistic gifts to establish communication.

Despite living fairly animalistic lives, hook horrors are quite crafty when they want to be, plotting their hunts with an ingenuity that almost approaches humanoid. Usually using their hooks to clamber along the walls, hook horrors stay out of the reach of danger and strike from above when their prey least expects it, often when their target has reason to consider themselves totally safe and concealed. Once they get the drop on a target, the hook horror’s tactics become brutally simple. With wickedly sharp hooks and strength like a brown bear, the hook horror tears its prey apart.

Clattering Clans

Though formidable enough on their own, the wit and tactical capabilities of hook horrors lend themselves to pack hunting in the face of large or well-defended prey. Though it may look like a simple attack by a mob of monsters from the victim’s perspective, a group attack by a pack of hook horrors is often far more complex than that. More than just a blind assult or a simple wrote tactic bred into their instincts like other pack hunting creatures, hook horrors can develop and apply whole new strategies on the fly, communicating their ideas through a surprisingly intricate language all their own.

Easily mistaken for the random clicks and taps of their hooks made to locate prey, the hook horror language is complex enough to transmit new ideas, describe unique concepts, and even get picked up by certain enterprising individuals, though it takes a fine set of ears for anything other than a hook horror to pick out the intricacies of their language. The drow, scouts, and assassins, especially, are sometimes known to study and even learn how hook horrors communicate with each other. Not only does this let a drow listen in on and parley with her hunters if hook horrors try to pursue her, but it also grants her a nonverbal language to communicate in should she find herself in a situation where she cannot talk. While her mouth says one thing, her fingers, seeming to do little more than idly rap on a surface, can say something completely different to an accomplice who knows how to decode it.

Among the hook horrors themselves, their language enables communication among not only the roving bands of hunters but for the wider clan as a whole. Usually numbering no more than twelve, a clan of hook horrors is led by the eldest and strongest among them. This hook horror tends not to range particularly far from the central nest of the clan, typically a cut-off knot of caves that requires a great deal of vertical traversal and moderately tight tunnels to access, child’s play for a hook horror, but sufficient to keep many particularly dangerous enemies out.

Spending much of its life restricted to the nest and the immediate area around it, the lead hook horror generally relies on the rest of the clan to hunt for her. This is normally not too hard to enforce since the leader of the clan’s hunters is almost invariably the lead hook horror’s mate. In exchange for this service, the lead hook horror takes the main role in the security of the clan’s nest, leading the charge against any creature unfortunate or foolish enough to stumble onto their personal area of safety and rest.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hook Horrors

With no weather or seasons down in the Underdark, hook horrors don’t breed with any particular pattern of seasons, instead just mating whenever food availability is highest and they are in good health, generally managing to breed once per year or so.

Hook horrors generally start looking for a mate at around four years of age, though this initial search can take until they are almost ten years of age on some occasions. Mate selection takes so long because, once a hook horror picks a mate, it’s for life, outside of occasional bouts of hidden infidelity. Attempts to find a mate may even lead young hook horror to leave her home clan in search of another, unrelated group to find a partner among, at risk of great personal danger, not only from the risk of being assaulted by the new clan, but also due to having to face all the predators, threats, and enemies the Underdark offers in uncharted territory, all alone.

When it comes to one hook horror actually deciding to accept another as a mate, the matter is generally quite civil, the pair talking through the matter in their clattering language. Only when a third hook horror intrudes on this courting do things start to get ugly, and even then, the violence on display is measured. Locking their deadly sharp hooks together, preventing impalement, the two younger hook horrors bring their strength to bear and wrestle for the elder’s affection.

With their lifelong pair bonds established, hook horrors mate every eat or so, the larger and elder of each pair carrying and laying four eggs within the central nesting area of their clan. Around three inches in diameter and slate grey, hook horror eggs are almost indistinguishable from roundish rocks to any creature lacking the ears to listen in on the developing creature’s heartbeat like adult hook horror’s can, thus letting them stay safely hidden among regular rocks in the nest area.

While the bulk of the hunting is done by the younger hook horrors in their pairs, the elders spend more time around the communal nest, ready to attack anything that wanders its way in. The eldest hook horror of all, the clan’s leader spends the most of her time guarding the nest protecting not only her eggs, but also those of her clanmates, often her younger relatives. Thanks to this protection, most hook horror eggs make it the six months necessary to hatch them. A young hook horror, sticking to the safety of the family nest, grows fast, starting only one foot tall on hatching and tripling in size by the end of its first month. At five months of age, a hook horror is big enough to look a full grown human in the eye and help the proper adults in hunting, its growth continuing, though at a dramatically slowed rate until it is almost two decades old.

Men to Hook Horrors

Hook horrors can usually distinguish males from females. However, even with keen hearing, hook horrors still usually need visual confirmation in order to be sure. Since their darkvison is quite limited for a creature of the Underdark, however, a hook horror may fail to recognise a man for what he is in the tunnels unless he carries a light source with him or gets in close. When a man wanders the Underdark and runs into a wandering hook horror, she is usually quite hostile to him, especially if she is in a pack. This aggression is generally more than can be explained by simple predatory instincts, with hook horrors targeting men in preference to easier prey and refusing attempts to parley, which they would usually respond to.

Thanks to this, one may assume that all hook horrors are instinctually hateful of men. This is, however, not entirely true. In a pair of hook horrors, the one that does the bulk of the hunting is also the one that generally impregnates the other. As such, hunting hook horrors generally see men in their territory as a threat, since a man could impregnate their mate behind their back or saddle them with the unfamiliar inconvenience of pregnancy. When egg-laying hook horrors do go on the hunt, they normally do so while accompanied by their mate, who will keep a sharp eye on them around a man to ensure their faithfulness. As such, short of defeating a hook horror in combat and raping her, a man looking to fuck a hook horror must get past the hunters and seduce the nest keepers when they’re unattended.

Of course, this comes with its own share of challenges and dangers. Hook horror nests are a pain to access, often needing specialised climbing gear to get to. Once he gets into the nest, the man will be considered an intruder first and a potential mate second, so it is vital for him to express his intentions quickly and to the right individuals, namely the egg-laying hook horrors whose mates are currently out. In the likely event that a man does not speak hook horror, it is normally advisable to have a sizable gift of food to smooth relations over. Egg-laying hook horrors naturally partake in occasional infidelity in the name of varied offspring, so, once calmed, many will be eager to get bred by a man.

Hook horrors can very occasionally hatch out as males. When such a male reaches his first year of age, his naturally dominant instincts and the alure of his cock cause a dramatic shift in his clan’s dynamics. Instead of being a group of largely monogamous mated pairs, interlaced with occasional unfaithfulness, a clan of hook horrors with a male among them becomes a harem around him. Each female hook horror gladly accepts his cock for breeding, with the elder members of the clan being more responsible for caring for and protecting the nest, while the younger members do more of the hunting. Such a clan normally stabilises at around a couple dozen members, with additional hook horrors dispersing to form new clans for miles around, causing the caverns surrounding a male hook horror’s territory to become overrun with hook horrors.

While male hook horrors are just as adept predators as females, they are known not to kill humanoid women they catch quite as often. Instead, he generally uses any woman he overpowers as a target for his lust, breeding her fiercely before placing her out of reach of scavengers on a rocky ledge and leaving her to recover. Why male hook horrors give this mercy to intelligent life specifically is unknown, since females seem to value all meat the same. A woman impregnated by a male hook horror can expect her baby to be born with sharper senses than normal, particularly hearing, and tough, clawlike nails, sometimes even tough enough to climb with. Some records even suggest such children have an instinctive grasp of the hook horror language, naturally tapping it out with their claws.

Notes:

Big thanks to ngmn69 on discord for the art this chapter, this is my first dabble into 3d art and I hope ya'll like it. If any of you like the idea of 3d illustations of your own stuff, please check him out, and let him know who sent you ;)

Chapter 157: Hydra

Lurking in swamps, rivers, and shallow ocean lagoons, a great reptilian beast may dwell. Drawn to the scent of near any potential prey, the hydra’s head rises from the water, followed by another and another and yet more still. With a bouquet of heads, normally around five in number, each seemingly having a mind of its own, the hydra unites itself with a single sensation: hunger, constant and unending.

Driven to eat and eat, a hydra can quickly depopulate an area of large game, forcing it to move on in search of new prey, continuing its trail of devastation. As well as plucking wild animals and livestock from the river bank, a hydra will never turn its noses up at eating people as well. With such a vast appetite, a hydra is a monstrous threat to most people and thus a target for great heroes to prove themselves against.

Gluttony Incarnate

With their reptilian features and great size, many people assume that hydras are some sort of dragon or draconic offshoot. Many intuit that hydras specifically owe their history to the similarly multi-headed dragon deity Tiamat. Though there is a nugget of truth in this description, the matter is a lot murkier.

Long ago, Tiamat had many foes, threats to her power, and targets of her ire that she thirsted for the destruction of. Among these many rivals was a goddess known as Lernaea. A goddess of hunger and greed, Lernaea was a palpable threat to Tiamat’s dominance, though the scale of this threat is debated. Some accounts say that Lernaea was an unspeakable existential terror who would one day be in a position to devour Tiamat, along with the rest of existence, if not dealt with. Others, particularly chromatic dragons too arrogant to consider their patron goddess to be truly threatened, prefer to frame Lernaea as a deific scavenger, scrounging off the scraps left by the dragon goddess’ numerous victories and trying her already limited patience.

In any case, the time eventually came when Tiamat could not bear Lernaea’s continued existence a moment longer. In a bout of draconic fury, the Queen of Chromatic Dragons leapt upon the swamp Lernaea called home. The battle long and vicious, Tiamat eventually arose the victor. Not satisfied with simply slaying her foe, Tiamat sought to devour her. However, even in death, Lernaea was hunger incarnate—in every piece of her flesh and every drop of her divine blood. Infuriated by the unsatiety of her feast, Tiamat tore what was left apart, casting Lernaea’s remains across all of existence. Wherever a drop of blood landed, a hydra was born instilled with the dead goddess’ gluttony.

Though instrumental to their dispersal, it was not from the blood of Tiamat that hydras spawned. As such, despite their reptilian features, most scholars agree that a hydra is no more a dragon than a lizard is. In any case, hydras generally lack the elemental power, intellect, or pride of a true dragon. Hydras also lack any particular signs of avarice, often lacking lairs in which to keep a hoard, and the only treasure to its name being whatever their victims happened to be carrying when it swallowed them. A hydra’s hunger is not for riches, power, or respect; only for meat.

A hydra will eat any creature that doesn’t pose a significant risk of turning the tables on her. Able to stay submerged for up to an hour, hydras generally wait for their prey to come to them, their many jaws lashing out on flexible necks to devour any animal, monster, or person who dares come to drink from the water, even targeting younger hydras. A hydra is never sated and will continue to hunt perpetually, always ready to strike at new prey.

Once a hydra has scared off or consumed all potential prey in the area, it will haul itself out of its watery domain and head off in search of another that has yet to be plundered. A hydra who goes a significant amount of time without food will take increasingly desperate actions to find some, rampaging into farms and villages in a mad dash for flesh. If this attempt fails and the hydra begins to starve, its heads will turn on each other, devouring the body to which they are attached, and the creature will tear itself apart.

Endless Heads

Though a hydra averages around five heads, the number can vary beyond that. A particularly young hydra or one kept pristine and well fed in a menagerie may only have three heads. Meanwhile, a particularly battle-hardened hydra may have as many as twelve. Some legends even speak of ancient, mythical hydras, descended from Lernaea herself, with as many as fifty heads. Each of a hydra’s heads acts like its own unique being, cooperating only because they happen to all share a single belly.

Having multiple heads grants a hydra a range of advantages. A hydra’s multiple minds, though only of a low, bestial intellect, cover each other in times of mental strain, such as under assault from magical charms, as well as covering any sensory deficiency. With multiple heads, each with their own eyes, ears, and noses, a hydra remains able to perceive her surroundings in all directions, never suffering from a lapse in attention against anything in its immediate area. Even while the hydra sleeps, typically on a riverbed or at the bottom of a muck pit, one head will stay awake, going up for breath for the creature and keeping an eye out for both danger and potential prey. The hydra can thus remain ever vigilant for food.

In combat, a hydra’s heads act almost completely independent of each other, each one lashing out to devour the nearest creature to them. Once in the thick of a hydra’s heads, there is virtually no escape. With jaws in every direction, all positioned on long, flexible necks, the hydra covers every angle of attack. When the prey tries to flee in panic, every head can close in on it reflexively, ripping it to shreds the moment they turn to run.

As one may be able to calculate, a hydra with many heads has a distinct advantage over one with few. A six-headed hydra, for instance, can bite twice as frequently as a hydra with three. However, the number of heads a hydra possesses is neither a matter of birth nor one of ageing, but a consequence of violent life experiences.

Lunging up to ten feet away from the main mass of heads on a long, largely unarmoured neck, the attack method of a hydra leaves it somewhat vulnerable to decapitation by a canny fighter. However, the loss of a head is not the major setback for a hydra that dismemberment is for many creatures. Not only is decapitation easily survivable for a hydra, but it also makes them stronger for it. Seconds after the destruction or removal of one of its heads, the stump from which it was connected splits in two, and from these two new necks, a head each grows, thus granting the hydra one more head than it started with.

As one cuts off more and more of a hydra’s heads, it becomes more and more dangerous. While it is technically possible for one to decapitate a hydra until the blood loss and incidental wounds kill it, one is more likely to find themselves quickly overwhelmed and devoured by an army of heads of their own making. Thankfully, hydras have a singular weakness that puts a stop to their regeneration. When cauterised by a flame, the stump left by a hydra’s decapitation cannot grow into new heads, thus letting a team of blade-wielding warriors and flame-conjuring spellcasters work together to whittle a hydra down to its last head and defeat it.

Sex and Sexuality Among Hydras

Hydras are, under virtually all circumstances, utterly intolerant of any life other than themselves, including other hydras. The huge appetite of even one hydra means that most environments physically cannot support two in the same area. When two hydras meet, the result is usually violence. If the weaker hydra doesn’t manage to escape the confrontation, it will likely be killed and eaten by the victor. Still, despite this hostility, hydras do have sex with each other to reproduce every so often.

A rarely witnessed event, what exactly turns two hydras from rivals to mates is not known. Whatever the case may be, however, the peace is very temporary indeed. Once the younger of the two hydras impregnates her elder, she must flee for her life, lest her lover make a meal of her. Once impregnated, a hydra finds a patch of somewhat dry land and lays her eggs, roughly four of them, in a scrape in the ground, covering them in earth and vegetation. With her eggs laid, the hydra goes back to her ordinary life.

A hydra’s eggs take about four months to hatch. By this time, their mother may have eaten everything worth the time of a creature her size in the territory and moved on. If not, the newly hatched hydras must get away unseen or be consumed by her. At birth, a hydra generally has three of four heads, is the size of a medium dog, and mostly eats fish. Most hydras will die before growing too big, but once a hydra is fully grown at around thirty years of age, few natural creatures can touch it.

Men to Hydras

Hydras see all things as potential prey. They also see reproduction as secondary to their mindless consumption. As such, a hydra does not care whether it is faced with a man—if it even has the mental faculty to identify his sex before eating him. Too brutally stupid to reason with, too single-mindedly hungry to seduce, and all but immune to magical charms by virtue of its multiple heads, a hydra cannot be compelled to have sex with a man. If a man wishes to fuck a hydra, he will have to overpower it and take its pussy by force—a tall order indeed considering a hydra’s formidable nature.

Like how many heroes of myth proved their might by slaying a hydra, men from many walks of life see the opportunity to not only defeat the monster, showing their power in the process, but also to fuck it after, giving him cause to boast his male virility. However, men are rarely inclined to kill what they’ve just had sex with, and hydras do not become any less ravenous nor any more tame for being raped. Thus, while a hero killing a hydra may do so to save the local people from its tyranny, a man fucking a hydra does so for purely selfish reasons. If the hydra gets pregnant from the man’s meddling, one could even argue that he has made things worse, spawning yet more hydras.

Being not of dragon blood, hydras can very occasionally be born male. Unlike many monsters, masculinity is a handicap for a hydra, not a benefit. With both endless hunger and insatiable lust to take care of, a male hydra splits his resources, fucking and eating indiscriminately. Male hydras also gain no particular privileges when it comes to the dangerous process of courting another of its kind and may be killed trying to fuck a hydra older and more powerful by him. Few male hydras live that long, but those that do learn to sate their lust on creatures too weak to fight back.

Creatures who are impregnated by a male hydra and survive tend to birth offspring with reptilian features, such as sharp teeth, patches of scales, and the ability to hold their breath for an impressive period of time. They are also marred with a similarly vast hunger as their father's, though usually tempered with the mind and instincts of the mother. Since they lack the metabolism of a hydra, hydra-born creatures tend to grow fat due to their appetite. Hydra-born creatures with multiple heads tend to show up when the mother is a monster or animal of some sort and generally do not come with a hydra’s regeneration. Hydra-born humanoids with more than one head are a rumoured but, so far, unproven phenomenon.

Chapter 158: Intellect Devourer

As a central part of their nature, illithids require the brains of thinking, feeling beings, mostly humanoids, in order to sustain themselves. Thanks to the natural difficulty of safely hunting down intelligent beings compared to more bestial creatures, illithids have developed a myriad of methods by which they may infiltrate and manipulate societies to their bidding. Among the raw materials they may make use of in this endeavour, a mind flayer can turn to their very food source.

Taking a humanoid brain, typically from a mind-controlled thrall, a mind flayer subjects the freshly extracted organ to a transformative psionic process. Under strange mental bombardment, the brain sprouts four bestial paws, grows a pair of tits, and has a uterus connected to a posterior vagina develop within it. As the exterior grows leatherier to avoid desiccation and resist the blows of mundane weaponry, the brain comes to life. This, however, is no revival of the original owner of the brain, but the birth of a rochnon, better known in common parlance as an intellect devourer, a loyal infiltrator and mouthpiece for the illithids.

Psychic Leaches

Of all the additions a disembodied brain is gifted upon being transformed into an intellect devourer, physical sensory organs are not one of them. Eyeless and earless, intellect devourers are blind and less so hear as pick up on the vibrations sounds make on their leathery hide. Still, intellect devourers have no trouble perceiving their natural environment by extending their mental power in a form of psychic awareness.

The psionic awareness of an intellect devourer, though useful for general sensitivity, is most sensitive to intelligent thought. While intellect devourers can detect terrain and objects within a couple dozen paces, they can pinpoint the location of any creature with greater than animal intellect from up to five times as far. No amount of physical barriers, magical concealment, or stealth can hide a thinking person from an intellect devourer, and only incredibly powerful magics, made especially to mute the activity of the mind, can foil their psychic senses. Thanks to this near infallible ability to detect minds suitable for their creator’s consumption, mind flayers often use intellect devourers, just as humanoid hunters use bloodhounds, tracking down new victims and escapees, or watchdogs, able to sense even the craftiest intruder and telepathically raise the alarm.

As well as the sheer usefulness of the trait to their masters, intellect devourers are likely so sensitive to thought because they rely on it to nourish themselves. As its common name suggests, an intellect devourer’s diet is not of physical but mental nourishment. Unlike the illithids that make them, intellect devourers generally don’t need to eat brains in order to be nourished by them, the mind flayers not wanting competition for food and their creations lacking the mouths to dine on organic matter in any case. Instead, an intellect devourer can survive very well by simply being in the proximity of creatures capable of thought, be they its mind flayer masters or their humanoid victims.

An intellect devourer can continuously consume stray mental energies for years without any harm to those around it beyond some mild forgetfulness. This is not to say that an intellect devourer’s feeding habits are always harmless, however. In combat, an intellect devourer can lash out with its claws, but its more dangerous power is to overtune its natural feeding abilities to actively suck the mental energies out of their brain. For many people, the psychic stress of losing so much mental energy at once can be fatal. Those tough or fortunate enough to survive, however, still have the potential to suffer grim side effects, up to and including the total cessation of mental activity, causing them to enter a vegetative state. This sorry state of existence is challenging to cure, often requiring powerful divine magic to fix, with that only working if the victim’s allies get them away from the intellect devourer before it can do worse.

Body Snatchers

About the size of a housecat and keenly aware of their surroundings, intellect devourers can infiltrate the strongholds of many peoples, hiding their grotesque appearance in shadowy back alleys and among ceiling rafters. Though utterly subservient and essentially acting as pets and tools for the mind flayers, intellect devourers are themselves intelligent beings, often being slightly smarter than average by human standards. Though lacking a mouth to speak with, intellect devourers can communicate complex ideas through telepathy, though they are rarely much interested in conversation with creatures aside from the mind flayers, other mind flayer thralls, and others of their kind. Thanks to this intellect, intellect devourers are capable of some independent strategising, though always in the vein of overcoming an unexpected obstacle to their masters’ plans.

With stealth and intelligence, an intellect devourer can covertly scout ahead for a mind flayer, making its own judgements, staying out of sight, perceiving all the local goings on, and faithfully reporting back to its master. However, this sneaking and spying is usually only used in very initial investigations. When an illithid or colony of illithids sinks its claws into a community, they have their intellect devourers employ far more devious tactics.

Often done before they have a chance of being detected, an intellect devourer can approach and even climb on individuals in a state of helplessness, often because they are asleep or catatonic from having their intellect devoured. Making contact with the victim’s head, the intellect devourer psychically intrudes into their mind, attempting to subsume it. Assuming the being lacks the impressive mental fortitude to resist this invasion (practically a given if their intellect has been devoured), their brain is destroyed, absorbed by the intellect devourer as it instantly teleports into its victim’s skull, taking the organ's place.

For as long as the intellect devourer remains inside its head, the body goes on living, but mentally, the victim is deceased. On absorbing the entirety of a victim’s brain, an intellect devourer gains all of their memories and knowledge; for as long as the intellect devourer’s masters demand it, the body it controls can continue to live out the victim’s life, even showing the same emotions, ideals, and unconscious ticks they did before. However, this is all an act. Under the skull, an intellect devourer remains a true and faithful servant to the illithids, keeping up appearances as influential members of a society only to draw interest away from mind flayer activity, keep the population docile, and ensure a steady flow of victims find their way to their masters, brains ready to be consumed, experimented on, or converted into yet more intellect devourers.

In control of a body, an intellect devourer is also safe from most forms of harm. Regular combat can rarely get to an intellect devourer’s actual body without first breaking open the controlled victim’s skull, often killing the body in the process. An intellect devourer can exit a victim’s skull at will, or be forced out with a handful of abjuring spells or when the body dies. However, such expulsions do not restore the consumed brain, and without the intellect devourer acting as a replacement for it, a body will die in short order. What is worse, some of the more common spells for raising the dead cannot restore bodies missing such fundamental parts as a brain.

Sex and Sexuality Among Intellect Devourers

Made by a mind flayer’s psionic influence on a disembodied humanoid brain, intellect devourers are made, not bred. Given the pragmatic nature of the mind flayers, it is probable that if the intellect devourers could make more of themselves by fucking one another, the mind flayers would command them to do so rather than cutting into their own food supply for the raw materials to make more artificially. As such, it can be assumed that intellect devourers are likely either infertile among themselves or that whatever the union between two intellect devourers results in isn’t an intellect devourer and isn’t useful enough to the mind flayers to be worth directing their minions to produce.

In and of themselves, few women would have any interest in sexually experimenting with an intellect devourer, and even fewer intellect devourers would be cooperative in that endeavour. However, while operating a stolen body, intellect devourers can be far more willing to have sex under the right conditions. When an intellect devourer has the body it controls to have sex with someone, it is not for the aberrant creature’s pleasure or enjoyment but virtually always for the sake of keeping up appearances.

An intellect devourer who takes control of a known slut will continue to engage in her debauchery, so nobody suspects anything has changed. More commonly, an intellect devourer whose stolen body has a wife or lover will continue the relationship in all its parts, not skimping on regular sexual and romantic actions so as not to give the ones closest to it a reason to think anything is amiss. Drawing on its victim’s emotional memories, an intellect devourer in a body can seem to genuinely love or sexually desire her victims lovers, but this is purely performative; the monster is able to cast aside such so-called loved ones the moment their illithid mistress calls for it.

While dead as far as their true selves are concerned, bodies inhabited by an intellect devourer remain very much alive, not even being reanimated as undead or the like; the intellect devourer simply picks up where the poor soul’s brain left off after being consumed a moment before. Thanks to this, an intellect devourer-controlled body retains all the natural processes of a normal person, including those pertaining to reproduction. A woman’s body is just as able to impregnate and get pregnant while being directed by an intellect devourer as by her natural brain.

As with recreational sex, intellect devourers do not have children out of any personal desire for progeny but to keep up appearances or help increase the fodder population as the illithids command. An intellect devourer can feign affection for her body’s children with unnerving realisum, but can instantly put those feelings aside to use such creations to their creator’s ends, even serving their daughter’s brain to a mind flayer without a second thought, if so commanded.

Men to Intellect Devourers

In general, mind flayers dislike mortal men, considering them to be unpredictable and often antagonistic outliers who show up unexpectedly and disrupt their intricate schemes. As the perfectly loyal lackeys of mind flayers, intellect devourers hold a similar sentiment, if made less complicated by their blind obedience to mistresses’ distain. Though the intellect devourer’s ability to detect greater than animal minds doesn’t grant them the power to judge such a mind’s gender, they can feel out a man’s form with their shorter-range psychic senses and usually recognise a man’s unexpected appearance as cause to tail him, gather information, and report back to the mind flayers as swiftly as possible.

In the body of a woman, an intellect devourer’s goals are much the same as otherwise, but with the benefit of being able to interrogate him directly and the drawback of having to behave as would be expected for her role, even if doing so is against her true feelings. If there is no precedent to the contrary, an intellect devourer will usually play her role as a woman disinterested in sex with a man but not aggressively man-hating enough to earn his open enmity or cause a fuss. However, intellect devourers lack anything in the way of personal pride and, to fit the character they find themselves playing, will fawn over, have sex with, and even allow her body to be impregnated by a man as necessary to keep up the illusion that she is who she poses as.

Conceivably, an intellect devourer could consume and replace the brain of a man. While on the surface seeming to contradict Nymphona’s rules that prevent females from becoming males, intellect devourers keep their female features inside a victim’s head, if in a compressed state. As such, an intellect devourer controlling a man’s body from the inside would have no more “become male” than an enchantress controlling a man’s mind from the outside would have. Still, there are no confirmed reports of a man’s body being manipulated by an intellect devourer. On the other hand, men are rare, and the activities of mind flayers and their servants are secretive, so it is very possible that the grim event may have occurred and simply never come to light.

There are many other mysteries regarding men and intellect devourers. One of which is what an intellect devourer gives birth to if a man manages to get her pregnant directly. A body controlled by an intellect devourer can get pregnant by a man just as a truly alive instance of the body would, giving birth to whatever one would expect. The intellect devourer’s true self, however, while likely impregnatable by a man, has never been kept under humanoid observation while pregnant for long enough to observe its offspring.

Some suggest that, being originally formed from a humanoid’s organic matter, an intellect devourer’s womb is essentially a misplaced humanoid one that will get pregnant and give birth as if the creature were still humanoid, producing a humanoid baby. Dissenters suggest that the process illithids subject humanoid brains to alter the intellect devourer on a far more intimate level, making their body utterly inhuman. There are a few supporting facts for this suggestion. Intellect devourers are generally immune to spells mate specifically to influence humanoid minds and generally respond to other spells and the like in a manner akin to aberrations like their creators. If this abstraction extends all the way into their womb, it may be the case that pregnant intellect devourers birth infant intellect devourers or something else entirely.

In line with ideas of impregnation, there are also no known records of male brains ever being made into intellect devourers. Presumably, such a process would result in a male intellect devourer with a cock instead of a pussy and tits, but so far, no illithid is known to have made such a creature. Whether male brains are somehow incompatible with the process, male intellect devourers are somehow flawed, or the mind flayers simply have other uses for such rare brains rather than turning them into expendable scouts is unknown.

Chapter 159: Invisible Stalker

Invisibility, the power to seemingly vanish into thin air while still remaining physically present, is a great expedient to endeavours of stealth and subterfuge while also not being that uncommon a supernatural ability to attain. As far as magic goes, invisibility is a spell that most mages can figure out with relative ease by weaving illusions around the caster or their target. Invisibility is also a capability that comes naturally to many supernatural creatures, from duergars to imps to pixies.

As well as letting one sneak around easily enough, invisibility also has various benefits in a fight. Defensively, it is exceedingly difficult to hit what one cannot see, even if one has a general idea of where it is. Equally, it is also hard to protect yourself from an attack one cannot see coming. Though potently useful, however, invisibility is often a fragile magic. In response to dramatic physical or magical activity, the illusions that form many sorts of invisibility can break, rendering most invisible creatures and beings visible the very moment they are about to strike or cast a spell. One creature that overcomes this drawback is one that is invisible, not by illusions but by its own physical nature—the permanently unseen invisible stalker.

Altered Air

Though they are most certainly magical creatures, the invisibility of an invisible stalker is not a magical effect; instead, it is due to what they are made of: nothing but air. Being formed entirely out of this one element, invisible stalkers are elementals and can be conjured as such, though often needing a fairly competent mage to do so. Still, invisible stalkers are not normal elementals and do not naturally exist in the Elemental Planes.

While normal air elementals are rendered mostly visible by the ferocious swirling of their constituent matter, a spellcaster who desires an invisible stalker puts some extra effort into the spell that summons it. This change in the ritual warps the elemental’s features, constraining its tempestuous nature until the air moves slowly enough to go unseen in most situations. Under the scrutiny of a spell that allows one to see the invisible, an invisible stalker looks like the vague, shifting outline of a female humanoid. This outline can also be seen as a bubble should an invisible stalker submerge itself in water, and briefly as substances like flour or sand blow through it.

Being creatures of tempestuous freedom and little else, air elementals do not respond well to being constrained in this way. As such, an invisible stalker needs presice and carefully thought-out instructions from its summoner. As much as a regular elemental needs direct instructions to complete their tasks, this is normally due to a simple lack of independent thought. Invisible stalkers, on the other hand, actively resent their summoners and will endeavour to subvert their desires as much as they can. Thanks to the strict control the magic that conjures and transforms air elementals into invisible stalkers gives their summoner, an invisible stalker cannot actively harm or disobey their summoner but may follow the letter of a poorly worded order to actively go against its intent.

Thankfully, for the invisible stalker, their unwanted transformation is not usually a permanent one. When the spell that conjured it is dismissed, the invisible stalker vanishes back to the Elemental Plane of Air to continue its existence as an air elemental, leaving nothing behind on the plane it was conjured to but a light breeze. Knowing this, most invisible stalkers just start by looking to get their assigned task over with quickly. As such, an invisible stalker can be persuaded to obedience and efficiency on its first task. However, as its tenure as a mortal’s servant grows longer, the invisible stalker becomes increasingly frustrated and disobedient.

While certain spells can make their stay longer, a normal spell to conjure an invisible stalker generally keeps them around for an hour. However, without the intervention of other magics, a mage must remain focused on keeping control over it so that it stays obedient, and they can dismiss it back to its home plane when the spell expires. If this focus is disrupted by injury or significant distraction, for example, things tend to go poorly for the elemental and the summoner alike. Having lost their mental connection to the invisible stalker, the caster not only loses the ability to command the invisible stalker but also to banish it back to its home plane by simple force of will. Realising that it has been stranded in its unwanted form and plane, potentially forever, the invisible stalker, in its rage, turns on its summoner with the intent to kill.

There is, however, one escape available for such an unfettered, invisible stalker. Like most extraplanar beings, an invisible stalker slain outside of its native plane, the Elemental Plane of Air, merely dissipates and returns home, reappearing in its natural form. Unable to starve, suffocate, grow old, or get sick, rouge invisible stalkers go looking to goad something into killing it. As a result, unbound invisible stalkers are unilaterally aggressive and destructive, willing to do everything in their power to gain attention and fear, making up for their invisibility by throwing things around and attacking people at random.

Summoned Tracker

When one summons an invisible stalker, all the additional effort compared to a regular elemental often means that it is being summoned for a specific reason. In a fight, an invisible stalker has all the advantages of a regular air elemental ranging from flight, to a lack of exploitable organic features, to a near intangible composition that makes landing a solid hit on one with mundane weapons hard and holding it still to be downright impossible. Combined with the many combat advantages of invisibility, these features make an invisible stalker a formidable, though only marginally better than an unchanged air elemental considering the drawbacks its smaller size and weaker individual strikes.

Unsurprisingly, an invisible stalker is better suited to tasks that make more direct use of its unseen nature, but only very specific ones. Though one may be inclined to consider invisible stalkers as perfect spies such a plan is limited for most summoners. While an invisible stalker can most certainly stand unnoticed and comprehend the broad facts of what is going on before them, invisible stalkers rarely recall finer details or understand the nuance of what they’ve seen like a professional spy would. One will likely also struggle to retrieve any information about what their elemental agent saw in any case, unless one happens to speak Primordial, the elemental tongue. While the transformation process of an invisible stalker grants it the ability to understand one language known to its summoner, it can still only speak its native Primordial dialect, Auran.

Instead, invisible stalkers are best set to tasks where they are set to sneak out into hostile territory, complete a singular task and then return to their summoner for further instructions. Things such as stealing specific items, sabotaging equipment, and sowing disarray are all good tasks for an invisible stalker. However, invisible stalkers are truly best equipped for tasks that target individual people, be it delivering secret messages to allies behind enemy lines, abducting a hostage, or simply carrying out an assassination.

As well as their invisibility and powerful elemental traits, invisible stalkers are also imbued with an extra magical ability when they are transformed. Internally, an invisible stalker is always magically aware of the exact location of two individuals, their summoner, and one other specific being of the summoner’s specification, even if that being’s location is unknown to the summoner. So long as an invisible stalker’s target exists on the same plane as it, nothing short of complete magical negation of divinatory magic can cause an invisible stalker’s tracking to fail.

Not needing to stop for food, drink, or even sleep, an invisible stalker pursues her quarry tirelessly. Able to fly over most obstacles and slip past most guards silently, the invisible stalker’s only limitation is race between getting to her target and the spell that summoned her expiring. As long as the invisible stalker isn’t freed from her magical bonds, before getting to her target, there is virtually no escape. Once she finds an enemy, her method of attack is far less elegant, simply beating or strangling her victim unconscious or to death as she was ordered to do, with emotionless brutality.

Sex and Sexuality Among Invisible Stalkers

Being an elemental, the air elementals that are turned into invisible stalkers come into existence, spawned unbidden from the Elemental Plane of Air. As a result, invisible stalkers don’t have sex to breed and, in fact, will not engage in sexual behaviour unless commanded to. Most spellcasters will not go to the great effort of summoning an invisible stalker just to have sex with it. Invisible stalkers also have no additional sexual features compared to a run-of-the mill air elemental, save for being closer to human size and being more consistent in form, a point rendered largely moot by their invisibility.

While few people conjure up invisible stalkers for their own sexual pleasure, some less ethical individuals will call upon an invisible stalker for darker sexual uses. Being a bold combative action, trying to force sex on someone is one of the many activities able to disrupt most forms of magical invisibility. However, since no action makes an invisible stalker visible and they are significantly stronger than most ordinary people, they have the potential to rape with impunity.

Of course, invisible stalkers are non-sexual creatures who would not rape anyone of their own accord. However, certain villains will charge an invisible stalker not with a foe's death but with their defilement. This is normally done as a matter of control or simple sadism against a victim one still has use for alive. As well as the naturally traumatic event of being violated, the fact that the assailant is invisible gives the victim the impression that another attack can come from anywhere at any time. It rarely takes more than two assaults to turn the average woman into a paranoid emotional wreck.

Men to Invisible Stalkers

Like many elementals, invisible stalkers have no strong feelings around masculinity as a concept. Being made of ordinary air elementals, all invisible stalkers are female, and although their abilities of comprehension are heightened by their transformation, it doesn’t seem to introduce any particular feelings about men. An invisible stalker can absolutely distinguish a man from a woman, but will not act on this recognition unless specifically ordered to by its summoner.

With no strong feelings of their own, an invisible stalker’s interaction with men generally depends on the commands of its summoner. As such, an invisible stalker is just as willing to fuck a man as to beat him to death, the choice entirely depending on whether the summoner thinks the man deserves a lover or an assassin. A man may be able to persuade a mage to summon an invisible stalker for him to fuck in exchange for a payment or a favour, either practical or sexual. Alternatively, men who themselves become wizards or druids of notable power can also conjure invisible stalkers by themselves, at which point they can command them to fuck directly.

Compared to a normal air elemental, an invisible stalker’s body feels marginally more solid to fuck. When a man cums inside one, his sperm generally settles in a spherical shape, held in an invisible womb rather than a cyclonic uterus. As an elemental, though, even men struggle to get an invisible stalker pregnant. Even if one manages to impregnate an invisible stalker, most spells made to conjure them expire well before their due date, allowing the elemental to continue the remainder of its pregnancy on its home plane in its true form. However, it can be noted that once the sperm has been absorbed or disposed of, a pregnant invisible stalker remains totally invisible.

Most agree that if an invisible stalker gave birth in the form of an invisible stalker, its child would be an elemental not magically bound to a summoner, thus making it likely that it would simply be born as a natural air elemental. Some fringe theorists think that the child of an invisible stalker would be an organic creature of some sort, somehow inheriting its mother’s constant invisibility. Names for this theoretical creature include the true stalker and the skulk.

Chapter 160: Jackalwere

When Graz'zt, the Demon Lady of Pleasure and Debauchery, looked upon her mortal cultists, she decided that their forms were insufficient for servants of her will. With great demonic power, Graz’zt took the most fanatical of her mortal worshippers and transformed them into monsters, giving them aspects like beasts. These were the first lamias, and though they served Graz’zt well, offering her praise and sacrifices while spreading her ways of depravity, the Demon Lady noticed that they would need servants of their own to defend them and support their lives of endless hedonism. It was here that Jackalweres came to be.

A jackalwere is a creature of three forms that they may shift between as the situation calls for. These forms are that of what seems to be a human, a jackal, and a monstrous hybrid of the two. This bestial transformation, along with a notable weakness for silvered weapons, makes jackalweres reminiscent of werewolves and other lycanthropes. However, Jackalweres do not seem to be part of that group, at least not directly. Under spells that force shape changers to reveal their true form, jackalweres become jackals rather than humans, for their kind was created not by humans receiving the curse of lycanthropy but from Graz’zt gifting animals the powers of speech, a humanoid form, and a sliver of her own evil countenance. Since the exact date of inception for the jackalwere race is unknown, it is debated whether the magic that created the first jackalwere is a progenitor of the curse of lycanthropy or a demonically altered strain.

Loyal Scoundrels

Mentally, thanks to the nature of their origins, a jackalwere has the instinctual countenance of a jackal with a higher consciousness grafted from a lesser demon. As such, evil is in a jackalwere’s blood, and turning them to the path of good is virtually impossible. Jackalweres delight in the suffering of others and, all things being equal, will go out of their way to harm, abuse, trick, and lie to others. Indeed, acts of goodness seem positively agonising for a jackalwere, and an astute observer may be able to tell when one is telling the truth as she subtly winces in pain.

Despite this demon-like taste for treachery, each and every jackalwere is bound to the will of Graz’zt herself and is thus born with an incredible loyalty to her and her favoured servants, the lamias. If one finds jackalweres around, it is probable that the lair of a lamia is nearby. As long as the lamia they serve remains loyal to Graz’zt, they will do anything they demand.

Jackalweres often find themselves doing much of the domestic necessities required to support the life of hedonism the lamias live, cooking, cleaning, and waiting on their masters hand and foot. Jackalweres are also their masters’ guards and soldiers. While a lamia is no doubt stronger than a jackalwere in single combat, jackalweres are more plentiful with the canine pack hunting instinct to cooperatively tear foes apart. Jackalweres are also surprisingly durable for their gaunt frames, with non-magical, non-silvered weapons simply bouncing off her skin.

As well as directly serving the lamias in person, jackalweres are also tasked with going out to attain everything their masters need to pursue their plans and enjoy their lives of luxury. Food, weapons, information, fine décor, intoxicants, and treasure to buy such things when they aren’t readily available by other means are all the responsibility of the jackalweres to acquire. While jackalweres will hunt down animals or isolated people for meat and may work or barter for things they cannot otherwise attain, they much prefer to steal what they want.

On the road, away from well-guarded hubs of civilisation, jackalweres often take up banditry, using the horror of their hybrid form to drive merchants from their caravans, letting them be plundered with relative ease, overwhelming guards with their numbers padded out by allied packs of otherwise normal jackals, influenced by their transfigured kin.

While jackalweres can use these offensive tactics to try and raid towns and cities, they normally take a subtler option, taking little and often. As a jackal, the jackalwere can strut through a city with the same impunity as an ordinary street dog, listening for juicy information that may lead them to a big score or might interest their scheming lamia masters. The human form of a jackalwere, on the other hand, is normally gaunt and pitiable, easily passed off as a beggar or someone else under ordinary notice. Though not quite as unsuspicious as an animal, a jackalwere in human form can pick pockets, burgle shops, mug people in alleyways, and run scams on street corners, earning a tidy profit with minimal risk of harm coming to them.

Hypnotic Kidnappers

Though slavish in their devotion to the lamias, jackalweres have a ravenous inner desire to experience at least the barest taste of the pleasurable, debaucherous life that Graz’zt promises her servants. In order to have any hope of achieving this, jackalweres must find other beings to do some of the tasks that are otherwise assigned to them. In addition, to show their devotion to Graz’zt, lamias often make sacrifices of intelligent beings, murdering them in the Dark Princess’ name. While certainly cruel enough to do so, lamias are usually sensible enough to see the waste of using their most loyal servants in these rituals if there are other options available. As such, jackalweres are frequently compelled to capture humanoid prisoners.

Technically, a jackalwere usually has the skills in combat necessary to simply overwhelm an isolated victim and drag their unconscious body away. Most jackalweres prefer not to endanger themselves in such a way, especially since they are uniquely equipped for a far subtler approach. Often in the guise of a human traveler or occasionally an unusually friendly jackal, the jackalwere approaches a band of travellers and attempts to cajole them into camping or travelling together for safety. With their pitiable appearance and natural aptitude for falsehoods, jackalweres often swiftly fool their victims into considering them harmless. Once inserted into the group, the jackalwere unleashes their secret weapon.

A gift from their hedonistic, demonic origins, a jackalwere can release from their eyes a magic that invites a pleasant state of delirium onto whoever they lay their gaze upon. When this magic overwhelms somebody, the victim’s mind fogs over completely and they fall into a deep slumber. This loss of consciousness can strike very suddenly, which works to great effect when a jackalwere is in open combat or looking to make an escape, her pursuer simply dropping like a sack of hammers. However, it can also be done much more subtly; the jackalwere putting each of their new compatriots to sleep in turn with no sign of their involvement beyond a casual glance and no hint that the victim didn’t just fall asleep of their own accord.

The magic of a jackalwere’s eyes only lasts for about ten minutes, but this is plenty of time for the jackalwere and her allies waiting at a distance to swoop in, bind their new captives, and begin dragging them back to the lamia’s lair, where they normally have cages or the like set up for them. With a combination of the threat of death by gruesome sacrifice for would-be escapees and the power of lamias to erode their victims’ will with magical charms, escape from the lair of lamias and her jackalwere servants is rare.

With humanoid captives being beneath even their sycophantic role, successful jackalwere captors get to enjoy some of the perks they give to the lamias, able to use a handful of the less desirable servants to fulfil their own wicked desires and do their work for them. Still, a single mass abduction does not liberate the jackalweres from their labours entirely. Slaves are rarely trustworthy enough to be given tasks that take them out of the lair unguarded, and with the decidedly excessive tastes of both lamias and the jackalweres themselves, more prisoners will be needed to replace the overused ones eventually.

Sex and Sexuality Among Jackalweres

As the hand-sculpted creations of a demon lord of lust, among other things, the lives of jackalweres are anything but devoid of sex. Various acts of sexual service are common among the commands a jackalwere may receive from her lamia mistress; jackalweres frequently rape their mistress’ prisoners to keep them in line and entertain themselves; and when it is not practical to take the victims of their assault as prisoners, perhaps because the risk of being followed is too high, it is usually a toss up between whether a jackalwere will impregnate her victim or simply kill them. When not tasked with some act of service or dark mission, jackalweres also while away their time by fucking each other.

However, for jackalweres, sex isn’t just an enjoyable experience, but an almost religious one, an act of benediction and worship of Graz’zt herself. The nature of the Dark Princess carved into their very soul, jackalweres know and live her philosophy from the very day they are born, from the moment they first violently suckle at their mother’s tits. For jackalweres, sex is not an act of love or shared pleasure; it is an act of seizure. Just as the strong may claim dominion over the fates of the weak, plunder their possessions, and even take their lives, so too can they demand pleasure from them.

With the exception of the lamias who they accept servitude under by nature, a jackalwere’s goal when fucking someone is therefore to extract as much pleasure from the interaction as possible for them. A jackalwere will thus bite, beat, whip, and otherwise hurt their lover as simple matter of course, taking delight in their screams and crying. Even if repeated mistreatment of a sex slave may threaten to kill them, this only means to the jackalwere that it is time to start looking for a new plaything to replace it before it completely breaks down.

Pregnancy is also seen in a rather unloving light by jackalweres, not as a cooperative attempt to make children, but as a way for one who is dominant to weigh down a victim with the physical impairment and psychological distress of carrying their progeny. While jackalweres can put up with and even enjoy the violence of fucking one another for pleasure, it is rare that a jackalwere willingly lets another of her kind impregnate her. Deing duplicitous, cruel creatures, this fact doesn’t necessarily stop other jackalweres from trying, but the race has a few easier options.

In another subtle difference between jackalweres and true lycanthropes, jackalweres can not only breed with their true kind, jackals, but also breed as if they were the creature they transform into. As such, jackalweres breed not only by fucking regular jackals but also by impregnating humans, elves, orcs, and a variety of other creatures that human women can knock up. Jackalweres are not only capable of reproduction with these other races, however; they also breed true. The result of something breeding with a jackalwere, no matter what it is, is always more full-blooded jackalweres, often born in their true jackal form.

Within the lair, fucking each other along with prisoners and loyal jackal packs, jackalweres are cautious with how much they breed. More pregnancies do mean greater forces for later schemes, but it also means more mouths to feed. On the other hand, a stranger’s pregnancy is of no concern to the jackalwere, and she is often thrilled at a chance to burden an innocent woman’s life with her daughters. Indeed, many women who think they were raped by some bandit discover the full extent of their defilement only when the baby they are expecting turns out to be a litter of two to four seemingly invulnerable jackal pups.

Men to Jackalweres

When it comes to men, Jackalweres are in a difficult mental position. Naturally associating pregnancy with weakness and impregnation with dominance, the most sensible parts of a jackalwere’s mind loathe and fear men for being ideal engines of impregnation. On the other hand, a jackalwere’s lust screams out in desperation for cock, driving her to pounce on a man and fuck him for the rest of his life. As these conflicting thoughts duel it out, the jackalwere continues to obsess over her options. Not having the trust to have a man promise not to impregnate her and believe him, every time she gives in to her temptation and fucks him is a gamble that risks months of burden and humiliation.

Lamias, perhaps because their stronger bodies can better support it, lack the qualms Jackalweres have against pregnancy. As such, news of a man brings a lamia nothing but raw sexual delight as she orders her servants to capture him for her. With a direct order from their mistress, a jackalwere puts her own doubts aside and immediately sets off to do her bidding.

Jackalweres in pursuit of a man don’t usually do so in hopes of an alliance or any other mate in equal standing unless he is already aligned with Graz'zt's cause. Usually, a man is just another potential captive with the significant added value of possessing a cock. As such, a jackalwere’s mission is the same as when going after any potential prisoners: use their deceptive skills to get a man into a position where he can be easily incapacitated and kidnapped. For this ruse, jackalweres often direct their very real lust into their deception, openly expressing their sexual desire for him and offering their bodies, all the while hinting at a “beautiful mistress” who would also love to fuck him if only he’d follow them to her grand abode, conveniently separating him from his allies in the process.

While a jackalwere’s more rational, pregnancy-fearing mind can normally dissuade her from fucking a man in a chance encounter, living every day in a lair with a male occupant, be he a prisoner or, more rarely, an actual guest, will swiftly erode a jackalwere’s forbearance away until there is nothing left but her titanic lust. Every moment the lair’s lamia isn’t fucking the man for all he’s worth, a jackalwere will be taking the chance to use his cock on herself or, more likely, several jackalweres will be squabbling amongst themselves as to which of them gets to fuck him first.

As well as seeking men, jackalweres can also sometimes birth men with about the same frequency as humans do. When this happens, it, unsurprisingly, dramatically increases the lust in their birth lair several fold. Virtually from birth, the lamia fortunate enough to have a man born among her servants will fuck him at every chance she has. Every moment the lamia is not riding his young cock, another jackalwere will likely be using him. As such, if a male jackalwere is not to be fucked into an early grave, he must adapt, developing almost supernatural levels of endurance until he is sexually capable enough to not only persevere but overcome, regularly fucking his own mistress into exhaustion. With this act of incredible domination, the male jackalwere essentially claims dominion over all the jackalweres who serve his lamia bitch, allowing him to direct them to his own ends. Ultimately, however, such subversion of the demonic hierarchy is inherently unstable, lasting only in periods where the lamia is in a state of sexually induced stupor, with the lamia regaining command whenever she regains her wits.

Chapter 161: Kenku

Often dressed in rags and ill-fitting robes, kenku are a generally pragmatic race of flightless avian humanoids, similar to giant ravens and crows but with bald arms in the place of wings. According to legend, kenku were once true, winged birds, of a sort at least, owned by a mistress of phenomenal cosmic power, whose name has since been forgotten. It is said that the mistress owned a great many treasures, many magical, all glittering and beautiful enough to catch her pet’s eyes.

Desiring a way to get treasures of their own, the birds did eventually come across something among their mistress’ magical possessions that enabled them to pursue their desires—an artefact that granted them the spark of sapience. Reborn as thinking, talking beings, the first kenku dressed themselves in rags and ventured out from their mistress’ home, using their new abilities to beg and trick others into giving them treasures of their own.

Eventually, the mistress’ notice returned to the kenku. Seeing her artefacts tampered with and their gifts squandered on wanton greed filled her with rage. Though she could not scour the personhood instilled into the kenku’s souls, it was within her power to take several vital components. Namely, she snatched from her pets the voices they had used to beg and swindle, the wings that had carried them too and from her abode, and finally the very ingenuity that had allowed them to develop the plot to begin with.

Thrice cursed and disowned, the kenku’s mistress cast them out into the world to fend for themselves, broken and terrified as they were. The kenku as a race has yet to recover from this violation. Having the insight to recognise their plight but lacking the creativity to make any improvement to it, most kenku hover around the breadline, bare survival being the best they can hope for.

Uncreative Mimics

Though lacking voices of their own, kenku have not fully lost the ability to vocalise. Seemingly as a trade-off for their ability to generate original words for themselves, a kenku can replicate any sound she has heard before, be they from animals, objects, or even people. While a kenku can repeat words as she has heard them before, she can only mimic phrases as she’s heard them before; she cannot rearrange words to create new sentences with new meanings.

Thanks to this unique way of speaking, a conversation with a kenku is a repertoire of slightly out of place sentences, framed in a dozen different voices, interspersed with all sorts of incidental sounds. A kenku beggar may make the sound of clinking coins to ask for the charity of passersby; a kenku ordering a drink may imitate ale being poured from a tapped keg. Kenku also tend to name themselves after sounds as well, often using sounds related to their lifestyle. A kenku cutpurse may use the yowl of an alley cat as a name, whereas a thug or soldier may use the thud of a hammer. Non-kenku who struggle to replicate these sounds often use a word related to it. A kenku deckhand whose name is the screech of seabirds, for example, may be called Gull by her crewmates, whereas a forger named after the scribbling of a quill against parchment may go by Scratch.

Among themselves, a lifetime of interpreting various sounds along with body language and subtle glances makes kenku able to communicate succinctly, expressing detailed information in a few short noises. Kenku who know each other particularly well may even develop codes. The hoot of an owl may sound fairly innocuous to a passing stranger, but for a gang of kenku thieves, it may be the signal that labels her a mark for robbery or as a threat to be avoided at all costs.

The power of mimicry that kenku possess is not only limited to their voices, however. Unable to truly improvise, kenku hold a mental vault of prelearnt tactics for all manner of situations that they are able to call upon and replicate on demand perfectly. With only rudimentary training in the use of appropriate tools, a kenku can also make virtually perfect duplicates of anything they have seen. Kenku forgers are therefore in high demand for most criminal gangs or spy operations.

Grounded Shame

Though their lack of true speech has prevented details like the name of their ancestral mistress and the specific location of her domain from being passed down, most kenku pass down the legends of their origins by word of mouth. However, even kenku who don’t know their kind’s past live with an innate sense of loss, an awareness that they are a race reduced from a state of brief but profound glory. Some kenku blame themselves for their state, abasing themselves for what they see as their kind’s innate greed. Other kenku see themselves as deeply wronged by their old mistress and the world at large and thus respond with furious independence.

Of all the things their prior mistress deprived them of, the kenku feel the shame of their altered, wingless bodies most keenly. All kenku have within them a desperate desire to take to the sky, one that their forms simply cannot fulfil. To simulate the sensation of flight, kenku prefer to live high up, often renting out cheap lofts or squatting in belfries and tops of ruined bastions. With light-footed agility, kenku often traverse the cities via the rooftops, often with planks and rope ladders set up in advance to aid in commonly taken journeys.

Though few kenku have the opportunities to learn magic themselves, magical items that enable flight are the very height of what a kenku dares to dream they may one day possess. If the opportunity to attain such a treasure, legally or otherwise, is to present itself, even the most law-abiding kenku may go to great lengths to attain it.

This desperation to fly is also taken advantage of when kenku feel the need to mete out punishment to one of their kind. Many kenku punishments involve attaching weights to the convicted, often in the form of wooden or metal false wings for increased humiliation, binding them even more firmly to the ground. If the condemner’s death is called for, execution is normally carried out by throwing them from a tower or by some other means that could be easily escaped if one only had the power to take to the wing.

As a constant reminder of their flightlessness, most kenku hate to draw attention to their bodies. Kenku will wrap themselves in dull coloured robes and slink quietly through the shadows, keeping their heads down and their beaks out of others’ business.

This natural propensity towards stealth does lend kenku towards thievery and other illicit activities, and many kenku do fall into crime, but kenku are not natural-born criminals as many accuse them of being. Kenku, given the opportunity, are eager to earn coin by honest means. However, the suspicion other races have of kenku having criminal intention tends to push them out of legal employment until they have no choice besides a life of crime or one of destitution. Kenku who don’t flock together in a thieves’ guild of their own kind often end up being snapped up by other criminal groups, all too eager to take advantage of their natural talents and their fiscal desperation. Only a very few kenku are fortunate enough to find a way out of the gutter and make a name for themselves as adventurers or successful business owners.

Sex and Sexuality Among Kenku

With most kenku flocks being fairly insular, even to members of their own kind, kenku culture can vary widely. Often the internal culture of a flock is influenced somewhat by the culture that surrounds them; a kenku hugher up in the flock's pecking order may imitate the lifestyle of the city’s elite, albeit a cheap reflection of it, while other kenku pick up mannerisms and traditions commonly found in the rest of the local lower classes. This cultural influence also tends to extend to matters of love and sexuality.

Kenku are just as capable of loving their companions as other intelligent races are. Indeed, in the tight-knit community of a kenku flock, it is often love just as much as fear and necessity that holds them all together. When it comes to romantic or sexual love, kenku can adopt all sorts of systems, from a flock-wide harem all the way to monogamy with formal weddings and strictly monitored faithfulness. Normally the system is somewhere between these extremes with a common standard of equal standing and respect within the relationship. After all, a kenku entrusts her life to her flock, and there are plenty of opportunities for a mistreated lover to get her revenge.

One obstacle kenku face when finding love is the internalised sense of deformity that virtually all kenku feel. A kenku can find other kenku attractive, despite their lack of wings; however, almost no kenku truly believes themselves to be desirable, thus making direct requests for another’s love feel impudent. Kenku generally overcome this emotional hurdle with a combination of time, familiarity, and an attempt to present non-appearance-based qualities of themselves. Most kenku thus learn to show appreciation for a partner's talents, their temperament, and offers of various sparkly gifts rather than their appearance. Even if a kenku does find her lover beautiful, most know that their lover will feel the compliment is ingenuine.

Being used to life in close quarters to one another, kenku are rarely concerned with matters like privacy from their flock when having sex. Normally, all a pair of kenku need is to be left alone to get on with it. How much a kenku has sex varies between flocks and between individuals, but it is not an uncommon bonding activity along with preening one another’s feathers. In fact, it is not strange for the latter activity to develop into the former quite unexpectedly.

When kenku have sex to reproduce, the one that gets pregnant usually only stays that way for a couple of weeks before laying one or two eggs, often in a nest made of rags and bedding in the centre of the flock's headquarters. If need be, a kenku can carry her eggs with her in a bag or the like, but it is usually preferred to keep them in one place to avoid unnecessary jostling. All going well, a kenku egg hatches only a couple of months after being laid.

Young kenku grow quickly, learning from their birth flock all the skills necessary to survive in their precarious social position. On reaching adulthood at around nine years old, it is traditional for kenku to leave their birth flocks, often never to return. Such departees often eventually find another flock or non-kenku organisation willing to take them in or else gang up with other young kenku to form a new flock all their own. Only a rare few kenku dare to stick it out alone, and only a remarkable few of that number end up finding success in that endeavour.

Men to Kenku

As with other aspects of kenku behaviour, the kenku stance on masculinity isn’t a solid, race-wide opinion. Instead, kenku tend to develop their opinions on men by themselves, shaped only by the opinions of their personal flock and, to a lesser extent, the larger community they live within. Where one kenku may live in constant fear of the day a man barges in and rapes her, a similar situation may be the basis of another kenku’s most desperate sexual fantasy.

With the exception of a few occasional outliers, most kenku are influenced enough by the opinions of their fellows that a flock tends to have a largely consistent regard for men. Thanks to this, a flock is usually all on the same page about what the plan is if a man shows up. For the most part, however, a man has little to fear from kenku as long as he doesn’t antagonise them. Even the most hostile flocks of kenku generally decide that, if they don’t appear to have it, it is generally not worth the risk of drawing a man’s attention, instead just trying to avoid notice and keep tabs on his intentions until he leaves. Generally, a kenku flock will only enact hostilities against a man if it seems like he’s going to be a long-term threat or he’s actively coming after them.

A man shouldn’t expect direct action towards him from friendlier kenku either. No matter how much they may want to be with a man, kenku are almost unilaterally convinced of their own undesirability and suspicious of strangers. A kenku often fears that if she offers herself to a man, he will reject her in disgust, or worse, harm her and her flock. Thus, most man-desiring kenku who spot the object of their desires will squander their chance in pining. A man who can find a kenku who wants him and express his acceptance and desire in return will likely have her become a very eager partner, often along with her entire flock. A man should be careful with such acceptance, however, since a few misspoken words to the wrong kenku can convince a man-fearing flock to shift from caution to outright aggression.

The most accepting kenku are normally isolated fledgelings, young adult kenku who have left their birth flock and have yet to find a new place to settle. In this state, a kenku is in search of people who can protect, provide for, and ally with her. A man who can do these things for a fledgeling kenku has likely found a companion for life, not to mention one who is likely thrilled to fuck and mate with such a provider as much as she physically can.

Male kenku are rare, but do hatch out every now and then. Throughout their youth, he often comes to rule the roost of his birth flock, fucking and impregnating virtually every adult member as his harem. However, when adulthood comes, male kenku fledge just like any other. Once a kenku leaves his birth flock, it is unlikely that he will ever settle down in another again, except perhaps in the form of occasional visits to particularly man-friendly flocks where he will fuck all the members before leaving. Fiercely independent even from the rest of his kind, there is no telling what a male kenku may become on his quest for meaning and pussy.

Some kenku males embrace their kind’s dark roots, becoming unseen rapists that stalk the alleyways and becoming an urban legend. Others reject what the world says they should be and strive to be a force for good, earning them heroic status and a love rarely seen by their kind. Interestingly, male kenku are known for being unusually humble most of the time, perhaps thanks to kenku shame and male arrogance cancelling each other out.

When non-kenku become pregnant by a male kenku, the offspring is usually defined by dark hair, pale skin, and a talent for mimicry, not as good as a true kenku’s but impressive for other races. Some accounts also say that such kenku-born children are unusually soft spoken or suffer from full-blown mutism, but these records mostly come from people who have otherwise made their hatred of kenku known.

Chapter 162: Kobold

A small, reptilian race, kobolds are neither strong, tough, nor particularly bright. Some of the only things kobolds have are each other and their pride, for, despite their individual weakness, kobolds believe themselves to be the progeny of dragons. Though often selfish and untrusting, kobolds band together in underground lairs, populations often numbering in the hundreds, all working together in the name of survival or by the whims of a dragon, that to the kobolds resemble nothing short of goddesses made manifest in the world.

Little Dragons

Though small and scrawny, lacking sharp claws or anything resembling a devastating breath weapon, each and every kobold is born convinced that they are of draconic blood. Like dragons, kobolds have a firm sense of pride that, once besmirched, she will do anything in her very little power to see it avenged. Kobolds also possess a form of draconic greed. Packs of kobolds habitually mine the earth, extending their warren-like caves while unearthing metals and precious stones to stack up in the most secure part of their lair.

Some kobolds are even more draconic than their kin by virtue of having a pair of wings sprout from their back. Known among kobolds as urds, these winged kobolds more often than not draw the jealousy and ire of their landbound cousins, not only by their aerial mobility but also by their habit of gloating of their superiority. Though regular kobolds and urds may cohabitate and work together if necessary or ordered by a higher authority, the two subraces tend to form separate packs whenever they can.

Regardless of kind, kobolds trace their draconic ancestry back to a draconic goddess called Kurtulmak. Once, Kurtulmak was the prime and preferred underling of Tiamat, Goddess of All Evil Dragons. As such, when a treasure was stolen from Tiamat’s immense hoard by Garl Glittergold, chief of the gnomish deities, it was Kurtulmak that the Queen of Evil Dragons sent to get it back.

Thinking she had the thief cornered in a labyrinthine cave system, Kurtulmak was too fast to strike, allowing Garl to take advantage of her aggression and collapse the cave atop her, trapping her in that maze, where she remains to this day. All but entirely separated from their patron deity forever disfavoured by Tiamat, kobolds have never forgiven Garl, nor her mortal gnomes. Kobolds and gnomes will virtually never willingly cohabitate in the same area, and when their paths cross, kobolds will go out of their way to make gnomes suffer.

Besides their own greed and rivalries, kobolds are also drawn to their far more powerful relatives. Virtually all kobolds are sycophantically enamoured by true dragons, particularly evil, chromatic dragons, worshipping them as gods to whom they alone are fortunate enough to be blood related. For their part, most true dragons struggle to accept the possibility of actually being related to a creature as weak and pathetic as a kobold, but they are more than happy to have their ego stoked and their will be done by a race of unquestioning, adoring followers.

When given the opportunity, kobolds will readily move into a dragon’s lair. There, the kobolds set to work doing their draconic mistress’ will, mostly consisting of acquiring treasure for her, carving out extensions to her lair, and defending the lair from intruders. Given the word, most kobolds will even die for their dragon, overwhelming a foe by sheer numbers no matter how many casualties may come of the assault.

Ingenious Trappers

When not spurred into an all-out assault by the will of a dragon, kobolds have a reputation of being cowardly, ready to flee or immediately start grovelling for mercy the moment danger shows its face. However, kobolds aren’t really all that given to cowardice; they are usually too proud for that. Instead, their behaviour is simply a result of an honest assessment of their place in the world.

A kobold knows she is weak. She also knows that in most cases, a fair fight will end in her being killed. As such, kobolds have remarkably little motivation to face their enemies directly. Still, kobolds remain vicious and tenacious foes, just as willing to fight for their pride and their treasure as a true dragon. A kobold who cowers and begs for mercy usually doesn’t truly intend to surrender. Instead, she hopes to distract her enemy and buy time for her allies to jump in and stab the foe in the back. When a kobold runs away, she is almost always pulling back to a position where there are more kobolds waiting and the terrain gives her and her allies the advantage in turning the tide.

When it comes to areas of tactical advantage, kobolds have no place better than their own lairs. For their lack of general intellect, kobolds seem to be unusually gifted at excavation, architecture, and mechanics. The lair of a kobold pack is a labyrinth of small, twisting tunnels that kobolds can run down with ease, but bigger creatures must stoop or even crawl to navigate. Any tunnel that seems more comfortable will be a ruse, designed with holes in the floor to stick knives through and galleries up above to sling stones down from.

Added to the sheer hostility of their tunnels is a range of handcrafted traps, lethally effective for the rudimentary tools and materials that went into their construction. Bridges may be specifically designed to collapse under the weight of anything heavier than a kobold; pullies may hold heavy boxes of stones or poisonous centipedes aloft, ready to be dropped on any unsuspecting passersby; and slopes made unexpectedly slippery may lead into pits of spikes.

This ability to make their home into a deathtrap speaks to not only the paranoia of kobolds but also their skills in construction and maintenance. As such, some people have cautiously accepted cohabitation with kobolds. Mostly in large cities with complicated infrastructure, kobolds are often allowed to stay so that they may maintain sewers and other subterranean works. Disliking sunlight, most city kobolds choose to live among the tunnels they built for the people above. Generally, these kobolds stay out of sight and can stay hidden long enough that denizens of the city may fail to realise who continues to maintain their sanitation and live beneath their feet.

Kobolds are not always the perfect neighbours, of course. Every now and then, a handful of kobolds may come up to the surface by night to swipe food, tools, and shiny treasures that seem unlooked for. Still, city kobolds generally avoid actions that would inspire the people above them to try and get rid of them and are thus usually more of a boon than an issue.

Sex and Sexuality Among Kobolds

One of the major driving factors of a kobold pack’s survival is whether it can maintain numbers in the face of adversity. As such, kobolds treat breeding as a necessary action taken for the pack’s wellbeing rather than an act of personal desire. Generally, the pack decides collectively on how many eggs need to be laid depending on the current state of the kobold population. If the pack is doing well and numbers are roughly matching how much food they can grow or acquire, the breeding rate is low. If something happens that causes the kobold population to suffer a sudden drop, such as an attack from an invader or a plague, the kobolds will breed far more aggressively.

When it comes to actually breeding, kobolds do not develop romantic attachments to each other. Two kobolds looking to reproduce will normally simply assess each other’s overall health and vitality and, if they don’t find any significant flaws, will simply have sex then and there. Kobolds have little concept of privacy or personal shame for their bodies; they may dress themselves for the sake of ritual, warmth, personal adornment, or to satisfy the decency of another race, but are happy to be naked or even fuck around each other.

Around two weeks after getting pregnant, the kobold lays one or sometimes two moderately sized, russet-coloured eggs. These eggs are not taken care of by their mother specifically. Instead, she carries them over to the most secure portion of the kobold lair, the treasure hoard, where her eggs are cared for communally with the others by the pack. It takes about two months for a kobold egg to hatch, and when it does, the hatchling is already ready to walk, speak draconic, and work. Though labours start immediately for a young kobold, it will still take about six years for her to reach full size and be ready to mate for herself.

Though sex does physically feel good for a kobold, kobolds generally have little concept of having sex for pleasure and rarely experience anything comparable to lust. As such, when a kobold is forced to interact with other races and sees them engaging in romance or recreational sex, they are often confused and a little judgemental. As such, combined with their insular nature and reptilian visage, it should be unsurprising that kobolds rarely engage in sexual activities with other humanoids. In any case, kobolds seem largely incapable of breeding with females of most other humanoid races.

Men to Kobolds

Kobolds have an almost universally hateful view of men, similar to their view on gnomes. A kobold will almost never speak civilly with a man unless the other option is death; kobolds will endeavour to frighten men away from their territory; and even just talking about a man can draw an uncharacteristically violent response from most kobolds. Even city kobolds, ones who usually try not to get themselves in trouble, cannot abide to know a man is near without indirectly trying to cause him grief, filling his bed with tacks, putting glass in his food, and balancing heavy objects above the doorframe of his accommodation.

The reason for this utter despisal comes down to the root of kobold heritage. Kobolds, considering themselves dragons, small and weak as they may be, share the draconic distain for men, perceiving them as having a superiority complex and a belief that all female life owes them their bodies. Trying to shake a kobold’s belief that men are all unreasonably arrogant social parasites is virtually impossible. Many stories of so-called “rehabilitated” kobolds are not the sweet tales they claim to be. Rather than changing her opinions, an unscrupulous man has simply held a kobold against her will and gained her obedience by raping her so many times she goes mad from the trauma. Whether a genuinely loving relationship between a man and a kobold exists among the mire of cruel masters and their sexually broken slaves is hard to determine.

Of course, the complete revulsion towards men that kobolds experience has one key caveat. If a male happens to be a dragon, his arrogance becomes fully justified in the eyes of kobolds, and he is ready to be adored. Among female dragons, few would even consider lowering themselves to the point of having sex with something as weak and pathetic as a kobold. Among draconic males, allowing him to fuck you the core tenant of service. Whenever a male dragon is born, kobolds have always been among the first to begin falling over each other to let him use their bodies, blessing them with the chance to pleasure and bear the offspring of a god.

Lending credence to their draconic status, kobolds, like all non-true dragons, have never been reliably recorded as birthing a male of their kind. Though male birth seems limited to true dragons, many kobolds hold the belief that one day a kobold egg will hatch and the hatchling that emerges will be a man. Opinions on what he will be like and what exactly he will do vary depending on the culture and values of the kobold pack speaking the prophecy; however, most believe that, like all male dragons to reach adulthood, the first male kobold will be destined to rule.

Chapter 163: Kraken

The sea is a vast and perilous domain, rife with devastating weather, lawless brigands, and aquatic monsters. Of all the dreadful things in that latter sort one is never spoken of, not out of ignorance, but fear. For fear of awakening the monstrosity, no sailor will speak its name. Only in a frightened whisper, spoken far, far from the sight of the sea will any salt utter the word kraken.

A being of immense primordial power, the coming of a kraken brings an inky, poison tide and ferocious storms in its wake. In acts of unfathomable hunger and malice, the kraken raises her tentacles above the waves and seizes storm tossed ships schooner and galleon alike, breaking their keel like the spine of some struggling vermin. Many know the kraken as the queen of aquatic monsters, a mindless beast whose power is beyond mortal fathoming. Unfortunately, this description falls woefully short of a kraken’s true evil nature.

Divine Devastation

Long, long ago, before history had a name and in pasts that have been eternally erased from the continuity of time, the goddesses were at war. The war was a conflict of all places and times for all manner of reasons, an unimaginable effort by Nymphona herself to shape the primordial unreality into the real lascivious existence she envisioned. Though the deific forces grew as more and more of reality stabilised, their forces needed supplementation. Thus did the goddesses create a series of unspeakable beings made solely with the intent to destroy.

Most of these abominations were unmade at the conclusion of the divine conflict, their creators knowing all too well the havoc they could inflict if left unchecked, but these living weapons were first and foremost designed to persevere, and thus a few escaped destruction, slipping out of aborted timelines and into ones too integral to mainline reality to erase. Among these terrible creations were the krakens.

A kraken’s hide is as hard as iron and is magically immune to any mundane form of harm, from a sailor’s cutlass to the bolts of a deck-mounted ballista. Offensively, a kraken is immense, with physical power to match. As spontaneously created creatures, each kraken varies somewhat in appearance and size but is generally a mix of piscine and cephalopodic features that can range anywhere from sixty to hundreds of feet long. The power of a kraken lets her split the hardwood of a ship or the stone of battlements with a single strike from its tentacles. Any hapless soul unfortunate enough to be caught in a kraken’s tentacles can be flung out to see, used as a projectile against their allies, or simply delivered to the kraken’s maw, often large enough to swallow people whole.

However, a kraken’s power extends well beyond her physical body. More than just an overgrown sea creature, a kraken’s will extends into the very environment around her. At will, a kraken can unleash a cloud of a virulent inky toxin, turning the sea into a dark, poisoned soup for any creature other than her that finds themselves swimming in it. Within the kraken’s wider territory, sea creatures and even the waves themselves obey the kraken’s will, all turning violently hostile towards intelligent life. Above the sea, the kraken controls the weather to the finest degree, even able to specify where exactly lightning should strike, obliterating anyone who would dare consider themselves safe for being out of her tentacles’ reach.

The wrath of krakens can be legendary. As it destroys ships, eating their crew and hoarding their cargo as loot in its undersea cave, whole shipping routes must be redrawn to avoid its domain. When the kraken strikes a coastal settlement, the place is often utterly wiped off the map, news of the place’s vanishment only becoming widely known as travellers come to visit only to find a stripped bay where a thriving port once stood. Sometimes a kraken doesn’t immediately erase a settlement, say a small island colony, but its mere presence cuts the people off from other nations, utterly erasing outside communications. If a connection is ever re-established, the isolated people are often visibly changed by their generations of isolation.

Ocean Goddesses

For many sailors, it is easy to assume that a kraken is a mindless engine of destruction and ruin. Most have no concept of the kraken’s true origins and thus no insight on its true nature. Far from simple monsters, krakens are immortal, with most existing krakens being older than time itself. Despite their brutish behaviour, krakens are intelligent, able to comprehend many ancient languages and even converse via telepathy on the rare occasions they feel inclined to do so. Over eternities, the krakens have grown fiercely intelligent, knowing histories lost to reality and knowledge that would drive mortal minds to insanity. Despite this complex mind and a fiercely hateful independence from each other, krakens are united in their singular goal, the ruination of all things.

Today, some krakens continue to act as the manifest will of various evil deities and deific beings with ties to the sea, such as Umberlee, the Bitch Queen, Olhydra, Princess of the Crashing Wave, and Demogrgon, Princess of Demons. Most krakens, however, have rejected the idea of ever finding themselves in the service of another being. Instead, most krakens accept none but themselves at the head of the quest to bring down all things, which they first and foremost enact on any ship that passes them by along with many coastal cities and towns. However, these victims are mostly incidental targets to enact her unending malice upon, the true target of her destructive goals being reality and the goddesses that uphold it.

Fortunately, it is not within the large array of capabilities krakens have naturally available to them to directly rend existence asunder. Therefore, krakens lie in wait, slowly accruing all they need to destroy and usurp the goddesses. This is partially why krakens choose to take treasure from the ships and settlements they plunder, both to attract foolhardy adventures to their lairs but also to acquire magical artefacts that she may repurpose for the injury of her divine foes. Acquiring these artefacts can take centuries or even millennia. However, a kraken is immortal and infinitely patient, so she can afford to wait.

Krakens are similarly patient when it comes to acquiring underlings to fight for her and enact her will outside her territory. Often targeting a community far flung from the rest of civilisation on an island or isolated cove, the kraken presents herself as a goddess. Often, this is done subtly by the kraken reaching out to one or two charismatic yet easily persuaded individuals and encouraging them to be their mouthpiece, often investing them with a fraction of their innate magic to give them the ability to perform “miracles” and increase their credibility.

Led by the new figurehead, the locals are encouraged to pray to and worship the kraken. If they refuse, the kraken rains storms and destruction upon them; if they submit, the kraken rewards them by destroying their enemies, calling off storms, and sending bounties of fish up onto their shores. In most cases, it does not take long for the community to become taken over by the kraken’s cult. Once the cult is well established, especially after a few generations, a kraken’s rule can seem fair or even benevolent, but in truth, a kraken cares nothing for her worshippers, seeing them only as tools to enact her ruinous designs.

Sex and Sexuality Among Krakens

Immortal beings made purely for destruction, krakens don’t really have any need to reproduce. The prospect of reproducing themselves, for most krakens, is a disgusting prospect. Krakens hate one another as much as they do everything else, respecting one another for their power and nothing more. As such, krakens tend to stay away from each other, never cooperate, and certainly do not breed. Whether krakens can breed among themselves is a mystery.

Despite this pattern, there are rumours of smaller, weaker, younger krakens appearing here and there. Though referred to as juveniles by monster-studying mages who lack a full insight on the kraken’s nature, it is doubtful that these creatures were truly created by the conscious breeding of two adult krakens. Some posit that krakens may be able to graft their own flesh and make a weaker subordinate of sorts from it. Another frightening prospect is that these creatures truly are young krakens and that somebody, mortal or divine, has uncovered the secret of making new krakens as the ancient goddesses did in the time before time.

Though the distaste for breeding themselves is universal among krakens, opinions in sexual activities among other creatures can range from disgust to mocking amusement to invasive fascination. One frequently exploited aspect of mortal breeding is the result. Often among the first serious tests of devotion a kraken demands of her worshippers is that they throw a newborn baby into the sea. Of course, most new parents are rightfully reticent to surrender their child to the ocean’s embrace, but the threat of the kraken’s devastation and pressure from the rest of the community usually means the kraken gets her sacrifice.

This, however, is not the last seen of the infant. Weeks later, once the patents have had time to mourn, their child washes back onto the shore, seemingly no worse for its time under the waves. This not only frames the kraken as a kind mistress but also makes her sacrifice seem like a mere test of faith, one that other parents will be far more willing to take. As the child grows however, it becomes clear that something is dreadfully amiss. Older sacrifices will exhibit unsettling physical traits, unblinking eyes, wide mouths, and clammy skin, along with various odd behaviours. Only when the person reaches old age and they stagger back to the sea does it become clear that, whether the kraken actively altered them as a baby or let the original infant pass and be replaced, what has lived the child’s life was distinctly inhuman.

Men to Krakens

Being made by Nymphona herself for a single, distinctly non-sexual purpose, it is generally agreed by scholars that krakens, at least those made by goddess hands, are all female. At minimum, there are no reports of a male kraken existing in the bounds of recorded history. As well as the general menace of an increasing kraken population, another reason that the appearance of juvenile krakens is so alarming is that it may raise the possibility of spawning a male kraken.

Though directly made by a goddess, krakens do appear to be truly living creatures, more akin to people, beasts, and monsters, rather than single gendered expressions of reality like spontaneously arisen celestials, fiends, and elementals. As such, it doesn’t seem like anything beyond Nymphona’s direct oversight kept the first generation of krakens from being born male, oversight this new generation lacks. What a male kraken would be like or do can only be guessed at, but it is unlikely that a man’s unending lust and a kraken’s drive for destruction can combine into anything good.

When it comes to existent males, such as humanoid men, krakens seem just as dismissive of them as they do of all other mortal life. Still, when a kraken’s plan is more complex than just smashing open a ship and killing everyone aboard, she is smart enough to recognise the unique traits of a man and devise some how best to use and deal with them. On the one hand, men often have a powerful influence on the women around them, making them an interesting potential spokesman for her will, tempted by the offer of greater opportunities to fuck. On the other hand, men tend to not do well with accepting mistresses and don’t like sticking to a single area. As such, krakens may use men as scouts to receive intel on the wider world or bid their worshippers to breed with him before offering as sacrifice or simply letting him leave, unknowing of the grim fate that awaits the children he left there.

When it comes to dealing with men, the sexual offers a kraken makes to him normally concern finding concubines for him or aiding his seductive or rapacious abilities. If a man indicates interest in fucking the kraken herself, her responses are normally either negative or highly non-committal. What exactly the child of a successfully impregnated kraken would be is unknown since, arguably for the best, no man has attempted to fuck a kraken and survived.

Chapter 164: Kuo-toa

With thick scales, functional gills, and mouths of needle-like teeth, kuo-toa are a vaguely unsettling fish-like race of humanoids. It is thought that, long ago, the kuo-toa lived relatively peaceful lives on islands and ocean shores. However, for reasons forgotten to time, humans and a collection of other so-called “civilised” races found themselves unable to abide by the race’s continued existence. Whether some kuo-toa were guilty of some great crime or people merely found the race’s piscine features unpleasant is unknown, but the fact remains that the cruelty of humanity and their allies drove the kuo-toa down into the Underdark, where the pain of their ancestor’s mistreatment clings to them still.

Fearful of the sun, the surface, and outsiders, the kuo-toa have no wish to return to their ancestral home. Indeed, most don’t even recall a time their kind existed anywhere but the edges of great subterranean lakes. Banding together in insular societies, kuo-toa survive the many hostilities of the Underdark by their grit, their cooperation, and their madness-induced religious fervour.

Diogenic Madness

Beyond the traits one may expect from a fishlike humanoid: amphibiousness, slippery skin, and a reasonable bite, kuo-toa are gifted with some more supernatural inborn abilities. The most immediately noticeable of these strange traits is the kuo-toan ability to detect what other races cannot. While the unblinking eyes of a kuo-toa cannot exactly “see” them, kuo-toa are gifted with a sixth sense of a sort that alerts them to the presence of the unseen, be it simply invisible or not entirely there, residing in the Border Ethereal Plane. While this sense helps protect the kuo-toa from enemies that would use magic or planar travel to sneak up on them, this sense is constantly active and can well be a source of grief for its owner.

The Ethereal Plane, especially where it borders the depths of the Underdark, is not an empty place. Home to all manner of spirits and creatures, most are harmless, floating through the unseen realm, like fish and plankton in the sea. Still, when these creatures dwell close enough to the Material Plane, kuo-toa can sense them. Unable to interact with or even properly identify these ethereal visitors, the constant sensation of unseen presences feeds into the danger of their habitat and the societal trauma from their kind’s past mistreatment, giving most kuo-toa a deep-seated sense of paranoia that tends to bloom into full-on madness by the time they reach adulthood.

In general, the madness exhibited by any given kuo-toa is hard to predict. However, there is one common symptom that most kuo-toa share: the desperate need to find and offer worship to a divine figure. If not directed towards a particular figure of worship, a kuo-toa will normally come to make one up for themselves. This habit of imagining their own goddesses would simply be another eccentricity of the race if it weren’t for the subtler supernatural trait of the race, the disproportionate power of their belief.

When a kuo-toa genuinely believes that something they worship is a deity, their worship gradually provides that entity with divine power. This power has been noticed by demons, krakens, aboleths, and other creatures for centuries, and they often encourage cults of kuo-toa to worship them, not only providing them with unholy power but also an army of fanatical servants able to do terrible things in their name.

If the subject of a kuo-toa’s worship doesn’t exist, as is often the case, this doesn’t mean that the divine power goes nowhere. As worship of the false goddess spreads to other kuo-toa, the power of their massed belief begins to manifest as shows of divine favour and displeasure. Kuo-toa who believe their connection to the divine is the greatest gain the ability to draw divine magic from the fervour of their followers, essentially becoming clerics. Eventually, if the new religion spreads far enough, the deity will physically manifest, the product of the kuo-toa’s collective imagination becoming as real as any other true deity.

Perhaps the most well-known of these spontaneously created deities, due to her worship being among the most widespread kuo-toa religions, is Blibdoolpoolp, the Sea Mother. Though the exact point of origin of Blibdoolpoolp is unknown, the most popular legend suggests that a kuo-toa came across a damaged human or drow statue and, in a moment of mad inspiration, sought to repair it according to her own design. Her work complete, the kuo-tao was overcome by the glory of her creation, driving herself and her allies to worship it.

Thanks to this origin, Blibdoolpoolp rises from dark waters with the unclad, buxom body of a beautiful human woman, marred by the head and pincers of a lobster. A cruel and bloodthirsty goddess, Blibdoolpoolp demands her worshippers struggle and strive for her favour and to sacrifice captors for her protection. Though tyrannical, Blibdoolpoolp is far from the only deity of the kuo-tao. Kuo-tao deities range in the hundreds. With not even the established faiths being able to stymie the compulsion off common kuo-tao to make goddesses, the rate of divine generation seems unlikely to slow.

Ruling Priesthood

When a kuo-toa feels the divine connection to a deity, real or imagined, she normally feels compelled to try and convince others of her kind to join her in her worship. If this prophet has the insight and charisma to convince her fellows to join her in faith, they often praise her vision and connection to their shared deity. As the congregation grows, the one that first brought them together receives not only divine magic to prove her legitimacy but also the undying loyalty of her congregation, effectively making her both archpriest and queen of her local sect.

The benefits afforded to an archpriest are enormous. Desperate for her spiritual guidance, an archpriest’s subjects do all the business of survival, catching blind cavefish and farming both kelp and fungi to eat. As an archpriest settles into her power, she begins demanding more than just the necessities, accruing tributes of coins, pearls, gemstones, and mysterious relics, leaving her to lead a life of wealth and relative luxury of her followers’ labour, trade, and banditry.

However, a kuo-toa archpriest cannot simply sit idly. Through public exertions of divine power, an archpriest proves her continuing favour from her goddess and thus her continuing worthiness of the common folk’s reverence. To keep the common kuo-toa from having their minds wander to other deities, an archpriest demands shows of devotion from them. These requirements can range from long rituals to frequent tithes of food and treasure to the sacrifice of criminals and infidels.

On a constant search for victims to ritualistically murder in the name of whatever it is they worship, kuo-toa generally seek to take their enemies prisoner rather than kill them outright and equip themselves as such. Most kuo-toa carry nets with them as a matter of course, since it is both a fishing tool and a device for restraining prisoners. More respected kuo-toa, those that can afford weapons made of metal rather than fragments of shell and bone, tend to wield special pincered staffs, built with jagged teeth to bite into foes and hold them still. Poorer warriors tend to coat their ramshackle shields with thick, adhesive goop, to which enemy weapons may stick, effectively disarming them.

No matter how much a kuo-toa archpriest reminds others of her power or how many she sacrifices, new visionaries will surface from time to time. If allowed to prosper, unrelated kuo-toa claiming to have a relationship with the archpriest’s goddess, or even a whole new divine figure, can draw worshippers away from her, syphoning off the ruling archpriest’s divine and political power. As such, a ruling archpriest is often desperate to stomp such dissenters out. An archpriest cannot single-handedly police her entire flock, of course, especially as it grows to be particularly large. As such, the archpriest must build a hierarchy below her.

Immediately under the archpriest in most kuo-toa theocracies are her children. Known as whips, these princesses are gifted with the best weaponry of the commune, oversight of various aspects of day-to-day management, and a hint of their mother’s divine power, normally just enough to convince the common folk of their favour. Thanks to how kuo-toa breed and the secure methods archpriests are permitted to do so in, whips can make up a shockingly high proportion of a kuo-toa settlement's population, sometimes even being up to a tenth of all the kuo-toa present if the archpriest is particularly prolific. The archpriest maintains her children’s loyalty by having tight control over their power; if a whip displeases the archpriest, the archpriest can revoke their whip status, stripping them of their goddess-given magic and thus most of their allies.

Below the whips are the monitors. These kuo-toa, though unrelated to the archpriest, believe in her divine authority so completely that they cast aside all material possessions to serve her, acting as the spies and elite warriors of the ruling family while completely unarmoured and unarmed but for their faith. As kuo-toa, this faith is a real, tangible benefit. Fighting with naught but her fists and teeth, a monitor’s devotion deflects incoming blows; meanwhile, her hands crackle with electricity that strikes harder than any mundane spear. Their insanity channelled entirely into their fanaticism towards the archpriest and her whips; monitors are virtually incorruptible, willing to die for their superiors if they are so commanded, and to push less dedicated sycophants to follow their example.

No matter how powerful an archpriest becomes, no kuo-toa is immortal. Be it on the field of battle, by assassination, or occasionally by old age, even an archpriest will eventually die. Sometimes, this will prove to be the end of whatever faith she was so fond of preaching. However, if the archpriest has time to establish herself beforehand, her death will normally have a different, much bloodier result.

If an archpriest has whips, children who she was able to teach the ways of governance to and indoctrinate into the worship of her deity, a power struggle will begin between them. Gathering their allies and followers, the whips will make war on their siblings, and for anywhere from hours to weeks, the streets of their settlement will run red with blood. Once only one whip survives, the other surviving kuo-toa will see her as the chosen of their goddess and the destined inheritor of their mother’s will. With the public’s acclaim, the whip ascends to archpriesthood, and the dark dynasty continues.

Sex and Sexuality Among Kuo-toa

Despite their humanoid build, kuo-toa tend to breed much more like fish do, with couplings being relatively random and indiscriminate. While kuo-toa can feel love and form attachments to each other, these bonds are separate from their feelings of sexual desire. Two horny kuo-toa may willingly fuck each other if they are friends or allies, but it is just as likely for a stronger kuo-toa to rape a lesser or for a particularly attractive or healthy kuo-toa to make a living as prostitutes, breeding with others for food and coin.

The only exception to this indiscriminate fucking comes in for the royal family. While still free to fuck her citizens at random just as the common kuo-toa do, archpriests, and sometimes also particularly powerful whips, usually have a personal harem of concubines. Made up of fit and beautiful kuo-toa, these lovers are forbidden from breeding with anyone but their mistress. Often this harem will consist of monitors to ensure their total commitment, since the insane devotion of a monitor makes most utterly celibate to all but their archpriest.

The archpriest’s harem serves as not only a symbol of her power but also a key component to maintaining their lineage. When kuo-toa gives birth, it must be in water, and she often births dozens of eggs. After a couple of weeks, these eggs hatch into fingerlings, the much more fishlike childhood stage of the kuo-toa. After a year, the fingerling develops lungs and terrestrial limbs. At six years old, the juvenile is big and mentally complex enough to join adult kuo-toa society, that is, if she lives that long.

Most kuo-toa have no choice but to lay their eggs into naturally existing water bodies. There the fingerlings and young kuo-toa must contend with predatory fish, aquatic monsters, and cannibalistic siblings. As a result, relatively few make it to adulthood and rejoin the adult population. Even if they do, it is unlikely that a kuo-toa will ever reunite with or recognise their parents, and as such, lineage and family mean little to the common kuo-toa.

On the other hand, linage is a vital thing to keep track of for an archpriest. In order to continue her dynasty after she is gone, an archpriest wants only to give the divine and political power of a whip to blood-related decedents. To ensure she can keep track of her progeny, an archpriest has constructed a personal birthing pool. Guarded at all times, this pool is kept free of all life besides the fingerlings born by the archpriest and her concubines. Fed and protected from predators, fingerlings in these private pools have little to fear save from each other, and as such, a far greater number of them come to survive their childhood, accounting for how the archpriest’s children can come to be such a disproportionate proportion of her flock.

In certain dark coves, there are occasionally told stories of kuo-toa coming out of the caves in the dead of night to pillage and rape. Though this is far less frequent than stories would have one believe, kuo-toa do occasionally fuck other humanoid races. The attraction to non-kuo-toa may be religiously prompted rather than natural. For example, thanks to much of her body being human-like, kuo-toa whose madness makes them see the goddess Blibdoolpoolp in a sexual light are encouraged to also find humans and similar non-piscine races as attractive too. Sometimes, on rare occasions, archpriests and whips of such a persuasion may get it in their heads that Blibdoolpoolp wishes them to go on a sexual crusade and thus drive their followers to raid a human village or drow outpost, breeding all they overpower.

Stunningly, despite their uniqueness, female kuo-toa are reproductively compatible with women of a handful of other humanoid races, namely humans and elves. At first, the child of a kuo-toa and another race looks and is born almost exactly like a member of the other race. For the first couple of decades, nothing seems amiss about the child, but then they begin to show more and more fishlike traits as their sanity slips away. In a matter of years, there is no physical difference between a kuo-toa half breed and a normal kuo-toa.

Men to Kuo-toa

For most kuo-toa, a man is a strange, utterly alien thing of significant power and great ability to bless with pleasure or force violation upon the masses. In other words, men and male creatures are perfect subjects of worship. In the past, a notable number of men have stumbled upon an adrift colony of kuo-toa and, in short order, found themselves to be the head of a cult that considers them a god.

Of course, being worshipped by kuo-toa has a variety of perks. obviously, when their god tries to fuck them, a kuo-toa is usually overjoyed to have been chosen. Along with sex, kuo-toa will usually go to any extreme to meet their god’s desires. Some men, even after leaving their cult behind, have found the worship of the kuo-toa to have blessed them with divine sorcery, or a strange sort of warlock pact.

Still, a whole congregation of kuo-toa looking to please a man also grants that man huge responsibility. Though not inherently evil, the hostile environments most kuo-toa live in make them assume that their gods must be cruel. As such, most kuo-toa default to cruel behaviour such as raids and blood sacrifices to placate their god’s wrath, especially if said god doesn’t happen to share a language with them, as may well be the case. Even if a man happens to speak Undercommon, it can take years of close supervision to teach the kuo-toa that they don’t need to kill and spread misery in his name.

While the majority of kuo-toa are initially amenable to seeing any man they encounter as a god, this is usually not the case for the upper crust of their society, the monitors, whips, and archpriests. With the exception of a few whips, most socially superior kuo-toa are too fanatically invested in whatever divinity they worship to abandon their faith for merely encountering a man. As such, when the established ecclesiarchs receive word of a man, they see him not as a god but as a threat to the predominance of their faith. In response to such a threat, the clergy whip the common folk into a religious frenzy, preaching hatred of men and declaring attraction of any kind to a male as heresy of the highest order.

A man who finds himself in such an indoctrinated populous will likely find himself greeted with the same horror and despisal that would be levied against a manifested fiend in most human communities. Most though ordinary kuo-toa may simply flee in terror, whips and monitors are likely to press bands of citizens into militias and go out hunting for the man, hoping to have him sacrificed to their deity.

Compared to other races, such as humans, kuo-toa generally do not produce male offspring very often at all. Of those male kuo-toa that are born, many of them assumedly don’t live to grow out of their fingerling stage. Male kuo-toa that do reach adulthood, however, are predisposed to greatness. Being male and thus possessing traits worthy of worship by their female contemporaries, one may expect that kuo-toa men swiftly become living gods. However, being kuo-toa, even a male is driven to find a deity to worship. As such, a male kuo-toa tends to eventually declare himself the prophet of a goddess, normally a being, real or imaginary, that he strongly desires to fuck.

With his natural sexual draw, a male kuo-toa generally has little trouble winning over females of his race to join his new religion, and, assuming a standing archpriest doesn’t manage to catch him and put him to death for heresy, he will swiftly become an archpriest in his own right.

Compared to an ordinary kuo-toa cult, there’re several strange aspects to one led by a male. Thanks to the male desire to wander, male-led cults tend not to settle, instead being itinerrate, swimming the canals of the Underdark, picking up new converts as they go. This constant motion also means that secure pools for the archpriest’s offspring cannot be built. Therefore, while the archpriest in a male-led cult is the main source of impregnations, there are almost no whips. In terms of monitors, the followers who most frequently fuck the archpriest tend to develop those capabilities.

Being the head of a religion built around a deity the he wants to have sex with, male archpriests tend to not only use their supplicants to relieve their sexual desire but also drive them to do all they can to try and impress the goddess. This can be general kuo-toa fare, sacrifices, dark rituals, and the like, but the archpriest will also try to show his sexual prowess; this can result in ritualised orgies, hunts for impressive creatures for the archpriest to ceremonially breed, and rapacious raids where the archpriest and his forces seek to turn the next generation of a human or drow settlement into a ticking timebomb of kuo-toa degeneration.

Chapter 165: Lamia

Cults to Graz’zt, the Demon Princess of Pleasure, have existed ever since mortals have perverted the powers of lust towards the selfish ends of abuse and defilement rather than the mutual uplift of love and co-empowerment. Despite appearances, sexual pleasure is secondary in these cults, merely being a vehicle for the cruel pleasure the blackhearted receive in the ruination of others. While lesser thralls are blinded by an ill-thought-out pursuit of lust for its own sake, the leaders of these hidden cells are the ones who most gluttonously tear all they can from their concubines and other entertainments.

For most of her worshippers, Graz’zt considers a lifetime of sexual sin to be its own reward. A select few, however, able to draw her eye for their exceptional thirst for the darkest of excesses, are eligible for a greater reward. So long as they swear eternal fealty to her, Graz’zt is willing to transform her favoured servants into monstrous creatures in possession of both bestial strength and magical charm. In a manner akin to a centaur, a lamia has the upper half of a physically stunning human with the body, tail, and four powerful, clawed legs of a lion in the place of their lower limbs. Granted eternal youth and vigour, lamias tend to make their homes in desert ruins, lost temples, forgotten tombs, and other out-of-the-way places. There she ensures that she has everything she needs to live in comfort: food, treasure, and a never-ending stream of slaves.

Ultimate Hedonists

For most lamias, Graz’zt’s commands are fairly vague, for the Dark Princess trusts those who have already proven themselves worthy of the transformation into lamias to spread evil of their own accord. At most, Graz’zt may point to some remote or well-hidden domain that she considers valuable and bid a newly transformed lamia to make residence there so that they may act as its guardian while going about their own business. Regardless of command, most lamias prefer to reside in places where there are unlikely to be interlopers to bother her, where they can be their monstrous selves and perform their wicked deeds without drawing too much attention.

When a new lamia arises, Graz’zt also provides them with a cadre of jackalweres, ordinary jackals given humanoid form and cunning so as to serve them. Utterly loyal to them, a lamia’s jackalweres will follow their every command, defend them in battle, and provide anything they desire that can be gained through theft and banditry. With their bestial servants, lamias live like the most depraved of royalty, raking in piles of treasure to laze upon, eating fine food for the pleasure of denying it to others, and having underlings suffer, fight, and fuck for their entertainment.

Even with their fanatical loyalty, jackalweres would likely be worked to death if they took on the full load of their lamia’s commands. As such, the jackalweres supplement their staff by capturing people, mostly travellers, on lonely roads and dragging them away for slavery. Just as they do for all the non-living treasure they are brought, lamias are habitually possessive of their slaves. Using them to satisfy their every desire, a lamia keeps her slaves close, often in the line of fire of any adventurers that came to save them.

While any person capable of labour is an acceptable slave for a lamia, they especially love victims who are beautiful or talented in performative talents like song, instruments, or alluring dance. A lamia will make use of such slaves constantly, actively enjoying the act of forcing an artiste to perform their art so unceasingly, for such perverted ends, that they lose their ability to love what they do, and the effort to continue breaks them.

As much as a lamia loves slaves of artistic skill, she most desires victims who are giving, temperate, and pure, such as idealistic would-be heroes and acolytes of beneficent goddesses. Like carving a masterpiece from a chunk of stone, a lamia takes pleasure in breaking down the morality of such victims, teaching them the pleasures of blindly giving in to their desires. Often a lamia will initially treat such prisoners as if they were guests, inviting them to join them in their hedonistic pleasures before gradually driving them down to become another corrupted soul under their paw. If such a project proves to be incorruptible or any other captive proves excessively resistant to slavery, the lamia will not hesitate to carve them up with claw and dagger to feast on their still warm flesh.

Manipulative Charms

The power of a lamia stems not only from their strength and their servants but also from their supernatural seductive aura, which manifests itself as a range of deceptive magics. At will, a lamia can weave convincing illusions of anything they may desire, including form, smell, temperature, and even voice and motion. be it a lure to draw in victims, a demonic monster to intimidate her foes, or simply a distraction to entertain themselves with in dull moments. If a lamia must so somewhere or meet with individuals who would respond with hostility to her monstrous form and marks of demonic allegiance, she can even clothe herself in a humanoid illusion, letting them pose as portal nobility or as an unnoticed face in the crowd. If her ability to hide fails her and she is attacked, a lamia can hide herself among a crowd of her own illusory duplicates.

A lamia’s magic can fool more than just the senses, however. The touch of a lamia can infect a victim with the overwhelming sensation of their daily pleasures, sending most beings into a state akin to drunkenness where memory, skill, and judgement are all impaired, making a victim all the more vulnerable to her honeyed words. As well as swaying victims with the delightful sensation of their touch, this power can also trickle into the lamia’s voice. When a lamia speaks, she can briefly enthral a person to her command by charming them or else magically dupe a victim into thinking her subtly given order was their own idea. All of these enchantments are further empowered when used on a victim whose will is already weakened by her intoxicating touch. As such, lamias often prefer to save their magical charms until their victim is at their most vulnerable.

Using gilded mirrors, crystal lenses, or pools of clear water, lamias magically scry on their domain, seeking out isolated individuals to capture and enslave. Often approaching in humanoid disguise, the lamia and their jackalwere servants invite the mark to join them in social repast, party, or some other benign occasion of enjoyment. With food, alcohol, and exotic entertainment on display, the lamia attempts to touch her victim, often under the guise of casual sex, ensuring that their intoxicating touch takes effect while in the throes of lust and desire. With their mental defences compromised, the lamia finally subjects the unwary soul to her most powerful enchantments.

More than a regular charm or magical suggestion, a geas is an order that takes root in the victim's very mind. Most often being to act as her willing slave, the command given as lamia’s a geas is all but irrefutable. If a victim’s mind fails to fend it off in the initial casting, as most intoxicated minds will, the geas can hold for up to a month if not dispelled, at which point the geas can simply be reapplied. The effort of going against an established a geas is so incredible that trying to do so can destroy most people’s minds. As such, a geas-afflicted slave outwardly resembles a willing sycophant doing any and all deeds commanded of them of the lamia, no matter how debasing and depraved, because the other option is a horrendous death as the weight of their own minds collapses on them. Eventually, the habitual submission becomes so frequent that most slaves give in, not even needing magic to keep them in line.

Sex and Sexuality among Lamias

Endlessly hungry for their desire’s fulfilment, lamias are consummately sexual creatures. When not feasting on the still warm flesh of a murdered slave, a lamia’s body aches for sexual release. If plans and situations call for it, a lamia can pretend to be sexually disinterested or even repulsed, but only while they know that there will be something to throw themselves at sooner or later. Ultimately, a lamia will fuck anyone and anything to feed her lust, even submitting to stronger creatures like greater demons if the situation calls for it. In a matter of preference, however, most lamias would rather dominate their sexual partner, fucking those they have the power over and fealty from, such as jackalweres and slaves.

As well as an exertion of power, lamias also like to fuck for the pleasure of defilement; virgins, children, and the sworn celibate delight lamias as sexual partners, for they present an opportunity to sculpt her lover’s mind and perception of sex to mirror and compliment her own. Innocence also fascinates lamias because most have no true recollection of what it was like to not be ruled by their debauchery. While lamias are expert tricksters and can feign a great many things, the one thing a lamia cannot pretend to be is chaste, no matter how many innocent souls they observe before ruination.

As well as the desire to near-constantly fuck, lamias also have the strength and durability to keep up with that wish. Caught up in her passion, a lamia can become totally unhinged, losing what few pragmatic shreds of concern she may have for the survivability of her sex toy. A creature being fucked by a lamia will be clawed, beaten, crushed, and utterly drained in an ordeal that may take hours to reach a stopping point. A lamia may shift between her slaves in order to make them last longer, but if she begins to fixate on one, that victim is likely doomed.

Few mortal women have the capacity to truly keep up with a lamia for multiple rounds. For most, it only takes a few days of round-the-clock fucking for the lamia’s attentions to prove lethal. Sometimes this execution via sex is intentional, an enjoyable way of getting rid of inconvenient slaves, but just as often these deaths are accidental. Though the loss of a sexual partner is often an inconvenience to a lamia, it is rarely regretted for long; after all, her jackalweres can always get her more slaves.

To try and keep up with her lust, a lamia may have her servants capture monsters for her, creatures whose endurance may allow them to survive a little longer. While they live, they serve both as sources of sexual pleasure for the lamia and as guard beasts.

For all the sex lamias have, pregnancy is rare. For lamias, sex is primarily a source of pleasure, and with their immortality, progeny to continue their legacy is a thought that rarely crosses their mind. Still, lamias can breed if they so desire, able to make offspring with most humanoids. The child of a person impregnated by a lamia tends to grow up to resemble an especially beautiful member of their kind. Emotionally, these people show a propensity for learning enchantment magic and a huge amount of lust within them, usually making them into wanton whores.

When a lamia herself gets pregnant, the offspring seems to be another lamia, resembling the upper half of a human baby with the body of an oversized lion cub for legs. However, there are a few differences between a lamia made by Graz’zt personally and a so-called “lesser” lamia, born by natural breeding. For one thing, lesser lamias are not immortal, living for two or three hundred years at best. Lesser lamias also lack the magical abilities of their parents to start with, only gaining the ability to naturally enchant and weave illusions if they go on to swear allegiance to Graz’zt in a foul, debaucherous ritual. This suggests to some that lesser lamias are born with souls free of the Dark Princess’ influence and, if raised away from the cruel influence of their mothers, could well show themselves capable of being something other than evil.

Men to Lamias

As beings naturally gifted in the varied sexual arts, men draw a lamia's attention and desire. If a lamia locates a man in her territory, she will put almost every resource at her disposal to his capture, be it by deception, using illusions and beautiful disguises to lure him into her clutches, or by the force of a bandit raid and abduction. Knowing that most men have experience escaping crazed admirers, a lamia not only tries to put a geas on him as soon as possible but also tries to convince him to stay of his own free will, claiming that as two creatures of lust, they are the same.

Of course, there is one stark difference between a man and a lamia. Moulded by Graz’zt’s influence, a lamia uses sex as a means of despoilation and hurt, revelling in the pain her pleasure causes. Men, on the other hand, can fuck for a great many reasons, including benevolent ones such as mutual enjoyment and a love for all things. A lamia cares little for these moral nuances, of course. For a lamia, a man is merely an especially pleasurable sexual toy that is unlikely to break no matter how much she plays with it. Being built for sex, it is rare for even a lamia to manage to fuck a man to death, even when she’s actively trying.

There are a few legendary stories of men who were able to turn the tables on a lamia, showing such sexual ferocity that they were able to pound her into submission and essentially become her king. Though not exactly turning her good, these men were able to dominate her and control her lackeys, essentially putting an end to their evil, at least for as long as he stuck around. In most cases, however, neither man nor lamia wins the sexual contest. In the eternal stalemate, the lamia continues her other villainous plans, bouncing on her slave’s cock until he manages to escape or dies of some nonsexual phenomena.

Being a demon lord of lust and passion, a not insignificant number of men have fallen under the influence of Graz’zt. Of these male cultists, Graz’zt has deemed a handful to be worthy of becoming lamias. With their lives now eternal and their natural libido increased, many of these lamias were snatched up into the Abyss, where Graz’zt uses them personally as her officers and pleasure slaves. Those male lamias kept on the Material Plane have gone on to cause havoc. The lust and sexual power of a male lamia is such that he can essentially rape whole armies of women until he has a nation of sex-crazed, half-dead slaves willing to raid, steal, and abduct yet more concubines so as to dilute the population and reduce the chances of her being the next one to get raped to death.

Chapter 166: Lich

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

The arcane art of wizardry is a powerful skill to develop, allowing a mere mortal to harness the magic of the weave to incredible or terrible ends. Unlike the investiture of clerical spells or the pact of a warlock, a wizard’s power comes with no inherent obligation to the will of other beings, be they divine, fiendish, or otherwise supernatural. Unlike sorcery and, to a lesser extent, bardic magic, being a wizard is also not dependent on a mortal happening to be born with magic in their veins; any mortal can, with the right intellectual discipline, dedicate their lives to learning the craft of wizardry. Therin, however, lies the true price of becoming a wizard: time.

To become a wizard, one must spend years studying the weave of magic, learning what tone of voice and hand gestures cause it to shift, and memorising dozens of complex arcane calculations that will allow one to shape magic into a spell. For all but the most extraordinary students of the art, the ability to cast even a few rudimentary spells may represent over a decade of one’s life dedicated to meticulous study. By the time a wizard of a shorter-lived race, such as a human, has developed sufficient power to become an earthshattering force of the arcane, be it for benevolent or selfish reasons, they may find that much of their life has slipped away, with only their twilight years left to enjoy their mastery. Many such spellcasters baulk or despair at this approaching finality, and begin to desperately search their repertoire of reality shaping spells for something, anything that may extend their life.

While high end potions and spells of fortitude may hold off the inevitable for a time, they are not the true keys to immortality. In search of this, some wizards, particularly darker, evil wizards, may turn to necromancy or undeath for their reprieve. Performing a series of ghastly rituals, the wizard forsakes their mortality. Though their bodies my wither and decay, they will remain keen minded and, in a loose sense, alive. Reborn anew, the newly arisen lich has all of eternity to conduct their plans, so long as they feed the source of their power.

Bound Soul

The ritual to attain lichdom is known to only a select few being and those who are willing to share that information are normally of a dark and terrible sort. Powerful fiends such as Orcus, Demon Princess of Undeath, evil deities like Shar, Goddess of Darkness, and strange, muttering entities from the dawn of time, too terribly unknowable to name may share the secret of becoming a lich with a mortal insane enough to commune with them, but such a “gift” is not given freely, with the rice often being as dear as the wizard’s eternal fealty.

Though the sane and good can only guess at the full list of awful deeds that a dark wizard may do on the path to becoming a lich, one step that is known is the creation of a phylactery. Traditionally an amulet, the only true necessity of a phylactery is that it be an item with an enclosed interior of some sort, wherein forgotten runes and pacts of binding can be inscribed, such as a funerary urn or a crystal vial. These inscriptions serve to bind the wizard’s soul to the phylactery, trapping it forever. So ensnared, the event of the mortal wizard’s death sends them not to their deserved afterlife, but into the phylactery. From there, the phylactery directs the soul back into its corpse, causing the lich to rise.

Once a phylactery is made and bound to a soul, the lich who owns it can never truly be killed so long as it continues to exist. When a lich’s corporeal form is slain, their decrepit body crumbles into dust while their soul is cast back into the phylactery. Less than a tenday from their defeat, the lich’s phylactery spits out a new, intact, though still withered and unsightly duplicate corpse. The lich’s soul then leaps from its prison, possessing the new body, coming back completely renewed.

While a lich’s phylactery can continue their life indefinitely and the lich’s undead nature spares them from any need for food, air, or life’s other staples, this existence is not without terrible cost. To continue the efficacy of their phylactery, a lich must periodically imprison the souls of intelligent creatures within it, allowing them to be consumed and destroyed utterly. If a lich fails to feed souls into their phylactery, their cognition and their body’s integrity slowly falls apart until ultimately reducing them to a demilich, a skull of dormant necromantic power in capable of any conscious behaviour beyond a stubborn refusal to let its ragged soul die.

The act of soul consumption, even if the victim happens to be immoral, is an act of irrevocable evil. As a soul’s destruction permanently denies it agency or fair judgement in any form, it is impossible for a wizard to see the path to lichdom down to its conclusion and come out the end as anything other than the vilest of monsters and there is no justification or reparation that can make a lich “good”. As such, heroes are often driven to destroy liches wherever they arise and put an end to their schemes. This is easier said than done, however.

To put a lich down for good, one must first destroy her phylactery, the source of her endless resurrections. Knowing this makes their phylactery a target for their enemies most liches hide theirs away. The hiding place for a lich’s phylactery is often a secret known not even by her most trusted of servants, the only guidance being that it will likely be on the same plane of existence as she spends much of her time, since a lich cannot feed her phylactery souls while it is on another plane. Normally a lich will build a hidden vault around her phylactery, loaded with traps and mindless undead thralls to guard it.

Even if an adventurer finds a lich’s phylactery, destroying it is usually no simple matter. As the vessel of her very soul, a lich takes great pains to instil her phylactery with a great many protective spells, to the point where it becomes nigh indestructible. Often a phylactery will only have one way to destroy it with the quest to discover and enact that method often being an arduous and dangerous one, especially as the lich throws their not inconsiderable power into getting it back.

Persistence in Undeath

When a wizard reaches the level of power and knowledge where they may have a chance of successfully achieving lichdom, they rarely do so out of simple blind terror of their life’s end. They likely already know that becoming a lich removes a lot of life’s most pleasant aspects. The taste of fine food, the feel of the sun on one’s skin, and social acceptance in most places are all denied to a lich. As such, few become a lich simply to continue living. Most have something they strongly desire in mind. Power over others, knowledge of the arcane, respect from those that are wise enough to fear what the arcane can do, and revenge against bitter rivals and foes can all drive a sufficiently self-centred wizard to become a lich.

Consumed by their desires, a newly created lich often throws herself into her goals, often starting with an intense desire to learn yet more forbidden arcane secrets and gather artefacts of astounding magical power. It rarely takes long for a lich to realise that her undead form opens pathways to new arcane masteries. A lich may flood her room with toxic arcane fog, her already lifeless form ignoring the poison as her living foes crumple and die. Being undead also makes her a centralising force for other, less mentally complete forms of undead to follow, letting her raise near limitless armies of undead under her command.

Even without casting a spell, a lich’s deathly nature makes her anarchical to the living. A lich’s touch chills and papalises flesh. Meeting a lich’s dark gaze fills one with mortal terror. Even being near a lich is harmful to a mortal being’s health.

After a few mortal lifetimes where the lich boldly strikes out for every scrap of lore and magical trinket she can get her hands on, she gradually loses her mortal sense of urgency. So long as she doesn’t draw too much attention to herself, mortals will either forget her or accept her as a fact of life. Dwelling in the ruins of her home in life, the lich begins to enact her plans over decades and centuries rather than months and years. Enemies that would make the living wizard’s blood boil in life can simply be outlived, and contingencies for the most radical of disruptions can be planned for as a simple matter of course.

Eventually, however, as a lich’s library grows full and the walls of her sanctum groan with the restless spirits of those that dared to challenge her, a lich’s patience can grow into complacency. Over the centuries or even millennia of its existence, a lich’s drive slowly fades away. Power languishes uselessly, knowledge gathers dust on bookshelves, sycophantic respect drones in the ear, and the names of those the lich would have vengeance upon disintegrate into ancient memory. As mortal passions leave them, the lich becomes uninterested in perusing any goal beyond stubbornly continuing to survive, a mighty bastion of the arcane reduced to little more than a lifeless undead parasite on society.

Sex and Sexuality Among Liches

Along with the many aspects of true life that a lich loses in exchange for immortality, is much of their capacity for love and sexual desire. This doesn’t seem to be so much a true excising by the process of undeath itself, but as a simple result of the mortal mind reawakening in the prison of its own dead body. Though a lich may well be able to hold some love for those they cared for in life, as loved ones die, it becomes harder for liches to see others as anything other than tools for their plans and fodder for their phylactery. As a lich becomes more and more self-absorbed, they even begin failing to remember how love and beauty used to affect them, considering things of that sort to be simple distractions rather than part of what makes life worth living.

As far as sex is concerned, only the most utterly deranged lich is not at least somewhat put off by her own decayed, mummified body. In the case of a female lich, her breasts will be firm, pressed taught against her bony chest by tightened, leathery skin. Her vagina, while outwardly looking intact, ends in a uterus that is, for all intents and purposes, dead. A female lich can neither impregnate nor get pregnant by another woman. A lich also has very little sense of touch and struggles to feel sexual pleasure even if they do try to fuck someone.

In any case, most liches take up lichdom with the understanding that their sexual lives are over and that it is time to focus on other tasks. Most wizards looking to become liches have already given up on sex and children anyway, thanks to their advanced age and how busy they are with their arcane studies. Even when the revulsion fades and a lich gets used to her new form, her drive to pursue her own goals usually drives most thoughts of sex out of her head.

Men to Liches

For the average lich, a man is an annoyance at best. With sex being so far out of a lich’s mind, encountering a creature as sexually motivated as a man is a strange and off-putting experience. Still, a lich rarely gets consumed by misandry, and as long as he leaves her alone, she is normally happy to just put him out of her mind.

For their part, men of all kinds are usually perturbed by liches, not only by the danger of their arcane power and the menace they are to the living, but also thanks to how they have ruined their bodies. From the average male perspective, a lich is someone who, one had a sexy, breedable, if not traditionally beautiful, mortal body and wilfully replaced it with a withered, infertile husk. This male perspective is also part of what makes men so aggravating to a lich, with them despairing and damning her for the state of her body, a matter she considers trivial compared to her preserved mind.

Despite their distain, some men can bring themselves to try and fuck a lich, with even some who would be unwilling to fuck a similar-looking zombie being wiling to give a lich a try thanks to the presence of her mind and soul. Thanks to their aforementioned dislike of male attention, few liches are compliant in these attempts to have sex with her. Still, there are a few recorded successful pairings that, on very rare occasions, have even resulted in pregnancy. In most cases, the dead, leathery bag that is a lich’s womb fails to interact with sperm pumped into it, the fluid usually being killed by time and the lich’s ambient necrotic aura. Sometimes, however, the antilife energy of the lich manages to merge with the vital energy of a living man’s sperm to result in a pregnancy that lasts roughly as long as it does for a living member of the lich's original race.

When a lich’s pregnancy comes to term, she gives birth to a strange undead monster. Similar in many ways to a toddler-sized ghoul, this creature, known variously as a lichling, lich-child, or lichborn, has only a rudimentary intelligence, enough to obey its mother and instinctively attack the living. In terms of its mother’s magical power, the lichling inherits little beyond some basic magical resistances and a paralytic touch. Though a lichling can make a somewhat useful assassin or undead thrall, most liches consider putting their undead bodies through the rigours of letting a man fuck her and get her pregnant to be an inefficient way of getting servants with easier methods available to her.

Some men do spend their lives studying wizardry and, as such, can eventually gain the potential to learn how to become a lich. Few men take this path. As with other forms of undeath, becoming a lich is one of the few ways a man can render himself utterly infertile. With men putting a lot more impetuous on their ability to impregnate than women, even the evillest men tend to consider the price of becoming a lich to be too high, even for immortality. Those few male liches ever recorded to exist have often been morbid and withdrawn, quickly descending into detachment and despair.

Chapter 167: Lizardfolk

Found mostly in swamps and tropical forests but also liable to gather in almost any non-frigid environment, lizardfolk are a race of reptilian humanoids defined by scaley skin, powerful jaws, and strong, paddle-like tails. Living together in simple tribes, lizardfolk live in pursuit of survival, safety, and little else. Having no trust for strangers, especially other humanoid races with their strange and unnecessary moods, lizardfolk tend to keep to themselves, remaining in and guarding their territories from outsiders. Anything that enters lizardfolk territory, be it a beast, humanoid, or monster, is considered free game for the lizardfolk to hunt down and devour.

Cold-Blooded Survivalists

Though outwardly of a humanoid shape, the mind of a lizardfolk is markedly different from that of a human, elf, dwarf, orc, or goblinoid. Matters of good and evil are immaterial to lizardfolk, who struggle to imagine why any creature would be needlessly cruel to another just as much as they struggle to find reason in showing kindness for kindness’ sake. Virtually all lizardfolk are thus solidly neutral in topics of philosophy, preferring to ground their actions in more practical reasons than simple feelings, with emotion being all but absent in their kind’s psyche.

To a lizardfolk, all things are judged by how they impact their chances of survival. Something that improves a lizardfolk’s chances of survival, such as food or a capable ally to help them get it, is received positively by them, and it can be said that the lizardfolk “likes” it. On the other hand, things that impair a lizardfolk’s ability to survive or actively threaten her life, such as a dangerous monster or starvation, the lizardfolk “dislikes” them. Emotions other races may ascribe to things they dislike, such as hatred or fear, have no place in the lizardfolk’s mind. If, for example, a dragon were to descend on a lizardfolk village, destroying huts and devouring tribespeople, the surviving lizardfolk would not panic, mourn, or seek revenge against the wyrm. The shelters and allies lost are gone, no longer giving benefit to the living, and thus are poor things to waste time and energy on pitying or avenging. The dragon, on the other hand, as long as it remains, is a threat that should be either avoided or placated. It is in this way that evil dragons and other powerful, intelligent monsters sometimes convince lizardfolk to perform uncharacteristic acts of evil for them acting as raiders and marauders.

When a creature is neither an insurmountable threat nor otherwise beneficial alive, most lizardfolk will have few qualms about extracting its benefit as food, regardless of what kind of creature it is. Lizardfolk are omnivores and consummate survivors, deeply knowledgeable about their environment, right down to the edibility of practically every plant and fungus within their native range. Still, lizardfolk have a marked preference for meat and care little for where it comes from. If a creature is dead or can be killed with little risk of significant injury, a lizardfolk will consume their flesh, often cooking and eating it in a grand feast with the tribe. Only if killing a creature is likely to cause significant trouble for a lizardfolk or bar them access to a desirable benefit, such as that creature’s alliance, will a lizardfolk hold back on consuming them.

As well as simply eating, lizardfolk are also greatly skilled at various forms of primitive craftsmanship. The homes of a lizardfolk tribe tend to be a series of huts made out of woven branches and reeds, the gaps filled in with mud. Sometimes, the tribe’s village is further protected by a wooden palisade or by a canal, easily crossed by the lizardfolk thanks to their natural talent for swimming, able to hold their breath for up to fifteen minutes.

Lizardfolk warriors tend to kit themselves out in a variety of weapons, largely made from the bones, horns, and hides of their previous kills. Aside from their own jaws, capable of rending flesh with vicious efficiency, most lizardfolk have a spear, axe, or mace as their primary weapon, a heavy or sharpened piece of bone being placed on the end of a solid wooden shaft. For foes that refuse to meet the lizardfolk in melee, most warriors carry a few bone-tipped javelins to throw at range. Most lizardfolk tend to do without armour or any clothing at all, their scales offering similar protection to a chain shirt. Still, most lizardfolk will craft a shield for themselves, made out of wood, hide, or tortoiseshell and embedded with claws, fangs, and bone fragments so that their defence can also be used as a weapon to impale.

Tradition and Tyranny

In most cases, lizardfolk live in tribes of their kind where everyone cooperates to aid in mutual survival. Unlike many tribal structures, there is rarely any true leader to a lizardfolk tribe, with every member out for their own survival and most tribe-wide decisions being made communally. Still, lizardfolk understand that some skills and traits are rarer than others and that those with rare traits should be given the respect they are due. One such trait is magic. On the whole, lizardfolk dislike magical abilities. Knowing it to be powerful and mysterious, most simply categorise magic and those who use it as dangerous, needing to be avoided or killed as quickly as possible for the safety of the tribe. The exception to this is the druidic magic of a lizardfolk shaman.

While not an outwardly religious race, lizardfolk do have a deity, a goddess of survival called Semuanya. Rituals to the goddess are fairly simple; round, egg-shaped standing stones are erected in Semuanya’s honour; stories of her exploits that double as lessons in survival are told at feasts; and food is occasionally sacrificed in her name, either burnt or fed to large reptilian beasts like crocodiles. For these simple actions, a handful of lizardfolk are given a portion of her divine power as shamans.

A lizardfolk shaman is normally told apart from the rest of the lizardfolk population by a total lack of weapons or any other equipment on her person, save a small leather pouch for plant cuttings and other components for her druidic magic. In place of weapons, lizardfolk shamans fight with their bite and their razor-sharp claws. Many shamans hunt as animals, turning into sizable crocodiles so that they may spring out of the water and drag their prey under in their jaws. When not in crocodilian forms, a shaman can use all manner of other natural magics, binding her prey in weeds, willing the environment to grow more edible fruits and fungi, and cooking invaders in their own armour. When outnumbers, a shaman can even summon reptilian beasts to fight alongside her, from snakes and lizards to crocodiles and even dinosaurs.

With their magic and their deep insight on survival, shamans of Semuanya are deeply respected by other lizardfolk, but they are still more so tribal advisors than rulers. However, Semuanya is unfortunately not the only being that seeks to claim dominion over lizardfolk.

In the depths of the Abyss, on a layer called Kearackinin or the Phantom Plane, lives Sess’inek, a lesser demon lord of evil reptilian life. Few lizardfolk would willingly worship Sess’inek, seeing the villainy she demands as pointless wastes of energy that could be better put towards survival. However, every now and then, Sess’inek manages to reach out and corrupt a lizardfolk egg, causing the hatchling to be born from it to be made in her image.

A lizardfolk born of Sess’inek’s corruption grows quickly, towering head and shoulders over their fellows within a year of hatching, bound with muscles and with scales as hard as stone. In combat, such a lizardfolk prefers tridents, morningstars, and other weapons that cause excessive exsanguination, the blood of their foes trailing down their weapons and into their gullets to further empower them thanks to their demonic boons.

Sess’inek’s influence also enables a corrupted lizardfolk to experience a greater range of emotions, specifically hatred, fury, and sadistic pleasure at the misery and fear of others. Filled with malice, supernaturally empowered, and utterly incapable of thinking themselves as lesser to any mortal creature, these lizardfolk bully and terrorise their fellows, killing shamans and forcing all others to forsake Semuanya’s simple teachings in order to worship Sess’inek as their new goddess and her chosen as their queen.

Under the yoke of a lizardfolk queen, lizardfolk build great palaces and temples out of stone. Therin, the queen lives a life of violent luxury, calling for raiding bands to go forth and gather great mounds of glittering loot for her to hoard and humanoid captives for her to tear apart for her sadistic pleasure or have sacrificed in Sess’inek’s name. Most lizardfolk living in such a despotic theocracy obey not because they believe in the demon lord’s teachings but because decent invites death at the hands of their mighty queen. As such, if a band of adventurers is able to convince some lizardfolk that they can genuinely out the tyrant and will let them return to their subsistence-based lives afterwards, they may find a sizable force of rebels ready to provide assistance. On the other hand, convincing lizardfolk to trust members of other races over one of their own, even one that is demonically corrupted, is a colossal diplomatic task.

Sex and Sexuality Among Lizardfolk

Suiting their non-emotional mental state, love and romantic attraction are not concepts most lizardfolk are familiar with. Lizardfolk can appreciate one another for the benefits they give each other’s survivability, however, and when appropriate can also appreciate one another for their potential as candidates to mate. As part of their animalistic desire to survive, lizardfolk are driven not only to live for themselves but to create the strongest progeny they can to continue their lineage beyond their mortal lifespan.

In this effort, lizardfolk are attracted to their fellows according to their strength and their virility. Some lizardfolk bloodlines possess physical traits such as frills and coloured patches of their scales meant to show off their health and vitality, with individuals flashing these areas to one another when looking to reproduce. Other lizardfolk determine fitness to mate through their behaviours, with individuals going on ceremonial hunts or participating in brutal ritual combat in order to show off their strength and tenacity to survive. In most cases, a lizardfolk relies on both to make her decision, judging both appearance and deeds before picking a mate.

Though they do feel pleasure from and enjoy fucking, lizardfolk are fairly unceremonious and bestial when they have sex, and getting one another pregnant doesn’t generally imply or necessitate the formation of any longer-term relationship between a pair of lizardfolk. About ten days after getting pregnant, a lizardfolk lays a clutch of one to three eggs, often burying them in loose dirt, sand, or leaf litter. As well as keeping them at a stable temperature and hiding them from egg thieves, this act also seems to affect the development of the eggs inside. When a lizardfolk is forced to move from one habitat to another and buries her eggs in the sediment of her new home, her eggs seem to absorb something from the material around them, causing the hatchlings that emerge from the eggs four or so months later to have scales coloured to blend in perfectly with the new environment.

Young lizardfolk grow up quickly. Though adult lizardfolk will protect eggs and hatchlings from assault and danger, the latter are expected to contribute to the health of the tribe from birth, be that by making weapons for adults, by scouting for invaders, or by hunting and killing small game like fish and rodents with their teeth. A lizardfolk hatchling who survives the dangers of the wild will reach adult size and societal position at around five years of age.

Thanks to lizardfolk attraction to power and health over personality, lizardfolk queens seldom have trouble attracting mates thanks to having both of the former in spades, despite the fact that they are feared and hated by the entire tribe. Being some of the few lizardfolk to experience true lust, the desire to have sex for the pleasure of having sex, a lizardfolk queen generally claims a harem of their most beautiful subjects to mate with on a whim. Most unusually for the lizardfolk, lizardfolk queens are also known to sometimes fuck non-lizardfolk, particularly beautiful female captives of human, elven, or another non-reptilian decent, an act most consider pointless for its inability to result in offspring.

Men to Lizardfolk

For most lizardfolk, a man wandering around their territory is usually just the same as any other invader, in need of repulsion or to be slain as prey. While lizardfolk women do recognise the ability of men to impregnate them, they are rarely willing to breed with a random, unproven stranger. If a man manages to prove himself to be physically worthy as a mate, such as by beating her in single combat, a lizardfolk woman will normally be very willing to accept offers to impregnate her or even make such an offer to a man should he not be forthcoming with his own. From her perspective, not only does breeding with a man increase the likelihood he will spare her life, but it is also clearly in her interest to bear the hatchlings of a being who has proven himself to be stronger than her.

While most male humanoids have an uphill battle to convince a lizardfolk to willingly mate without violence, some males have a much easier time. When a lizardfolk shaman encounters a male reptile of reasonable size, such as a crocodile, a constrictor snake, or a dinosaur, she normally takes it as a sign from Semuanya herself that the tribe’s territory needs enriching. Taking the beast back to the tribe, using magic, food, and her pussy to placate it, the shaman shares her tidings with the tribe, encouraging all of them to breed with the creature. In this way, the lizardfolk women not only show reverence to Semuanya but also show off their virility to one another by showing how many of the male’s eggs they can lay.

There is a similar level of religious reverence on the rare occasion when a male is born among the lizardfolk themselves. When a lizardfolk hatches with a cock, the local shamans again declare it a sign of Semuanya’s will, this time meaning that the tribe must grow and expand. As the male lizardfolk grows up, fucking and impregnating the women of his tribe, he will eventually feel the male urge to travel, pushing the boundaries of his tribe’s territory as he goes.

This sudden expansion in both numbers and territory can put the lizardfolk in conflict with their neighbours, but eventually, the male’s drive to explore will cause him to slip out of his tribe’s grip. Out on his own or with a handful of females who chose him over their homeland, the male lizardfolk will venture out in search of new things with which to breed. Generally, male lizardfolk prefer to stay away from civilisation and continue fucking reptilian creatures such as dinosaurs, lizards, kobolds, and other lizardfolk tribes, but a male lizardfolk can also impregnate non-reptilian creatures, normally resulting in offspring with notable patches of scales and an affinity for the water.

Far less welcoming of Semuanya’s signs are lizardfolk queens. Filled with arrogance and despising even the thought of another creature having any power over them, such as the power to breed them against their will, these corrupted lizardfolk despise men in all their forms, seeking to have them killed wherever they may be found, preferably by her own hands so she can confirm his death, consume his flesh, and (symbolically) gain his power. Despite this misandry in her female creations, Sess’inek seems quite drawn to male lizardfolk, not so much in any desire to personally sleep with them as in recognising their potential rapacious power. While the number of female lizardfolk to hatch out touched by Sess’inek is such a small part of the overall population to be almost negligible, almost a third of all recorded lizardfolk men have been lizardfolk kings, invested with Sess’inek’s corruption and the strength to thus force great swathes of creatures to pleasure his cock and birth his scaled progeny.

Chapter 168: Lycanthropes

Since magic has had worlds to saturate, forces of all kinds have twisted its power into foul curses to place upon the beset and luckless. Among the most primaeval and terrible of these foul magics is the curse of lycanthropy. In simple terms, a victim of lycanthropy transforms into a fearsome beast on nights of the full moon. What beast a lycanthrope can become depends on the strain of the curse they are infected with, though minor physical traits in their humanoid form may sometimes hint at their other nature. Though this gift empowers the afflicted in some ways, rendering them impervious to all mundane materials with the exception of silver, the price is great. When in their bestial form, a lycanthrope assumes the nature of their strain’s lineages. In many cases, this lineage is violent, cruel, and predatory, often with no memory of their everyday life. A lycanthrope on the prowl under a full moon may well kill their best friend or lover without a second thought. What is worse is that the curse rarely dies with the one to initially contract it. If a victim is bitten by a lycanthrope and somehow survives the encounter, then there is a distinct chance that the victim will become afflicted by the curse, thus propagating it yet further. There are multiple strains of the lycanthropic curse and a handful of the most common ones will be discussed in the next few chapters. This chapter, however, will discuss lycanthropy in general.

Moonlight Killers

The origins of lycanthropy lie far, far into the past. Even experts on the affliction cannot be sure where it came from originally. Some point to the fey, suggesting that it was some disease concocted in a hag’s caldron, or else it may have been an attempt by the dark Unseelie Court to make mortals into useful hunting hounds. Others point to greater wicked powers, such as the bestial Demon Lord Baphomet or Malar, Goddess of the Hunt, both worshipped widely by evil lycanthropes. One dubious story suggests that lycanthropy was never meant to be a curse and that it was originally a gift from Selûne, Goddess of the Moon, to help mortals survive. As the tale goes, mortals took Selûne’s gift and perverted it, using it to slay one another in the name of power and greed. Eventually, the magic had brought so much pain and suffering that it was corrupted, ensuring that every subsequent receiver of the curse would repeat the villainy of their forbearers.

When a person is bitten by a lycanthrope and succumbs to the curse, they generally have two choices. For as long as a mortal resists the call of the beast within, they can maintain their mind and moral compass for most of the time, though they do forgo all the powers of their curse save the immunity to non-silvered weapons. However, on nights when the moon is full, it empowers the curse enough to utterly overwhelm the victim’s mind and body, forcing them to transform into their bestial form and go on an instinctual rampage in accordance with their curse’s bestial spirit. When daylight comes, the lycanthrope has no memory of its night’s activities, with only its shredded clothes and face covered in the blood of their victims to hint at the terrible things they did.

For many people afflicted with lycanthropy, the knowledge of what the full moon will bring encourages them to retreat from society for the safety of others. Many retreat into the wilderness, living as beasts even while possessed of their humanoid sensibilities. When nights of the full moon approach, cursed individuals often seek to bind themselves or shut themselves away so that their alter ego’s wrath is exercised impotently and no one gets hurt. With how strong and cunning a transformed lycanthrope can be, the effectiveness of such self-imprisonment is unreliable at best. Even lycanthropes whose strain of the curse does not come with malice instilled tend to shy away from people. Though not inherently evil, the primal nature of such lycanthropes can make them liable to lash out in anger when stressed or bothered, just as any cornered beast may.

With the grief and loneliness that a life of one cursed with lycanthropy brings, it is understandable that many of the afflicted become desperate for a cure. If one is simply bitten by a lycanthrope in the heat of the moment, the curse may be removable by a spell, though for many common people, finding a wizard or a priestess with enough magical power can be a challenge. Sometimes, however, a lycanthrope’s curse is bound more strongly to a victim; this is often due to a personal relationship with the lycanthrope that bit them or by the curse being delivered through means other than a bite, such as a wicked fey ritual or the wrath of an angry nature deity. In these cases, the path to ending the curse may be more complex and involved, involving things such as earning forgiveness, completing a ceremony, or seeking the direct aid of a more powerful benevolent being.

Beast Souls

Sometimes, a person stops resisting the call of the beast inside them. Some feel the lure of power and give up who they are in exchange for it. Others hold out for a while, but as years of isolation and horror at their monthly actions bear down on them, they eventually give in, surrendering their minds for the pain to stop. A few souls don’t put up a fight simply because their nature is already very much akin to the kind their curse promotes. In any case, the decision to embrace their curse is one that is irreversible and often disastrous to all those around them.

When the curse of lycanthropy is accepted by its victim, the spirit of the beast the curse contains fuses with the victim’s very soul. As a result of this, the lycanthrope gains full control over their transformation, able to shift between humanoid, beast, and a powerful hybrid form at will. The lycanthrope also retains the memories and intellect of their former selves. Even the most violent of embraced lycanthropes can resort to subterfuge and diplomacy if they so desire, though speech is normally only possible in humanoid or hybrid forms. Most such lycanthropes will only do so if their lives are threatened or if a chance at greater carnage is unlocked by it.

What the unified spirits do not retain is the individual’s prior morality. Unless it was already strongly similar to what the curse proscribes, a lycanthrope who accepts their lycanthropy has their original personality totally destroyed, replaced with the nature of the curse that flows through their veins. With bestial instincts, humanoid intellect, and usually no small amount of supernatural fury combined, a lycanthrope with its spirits merged can exert a great deal of pain and misery, able not only to inflict great damage but also to plan and conceive of targets of brutal death, often starting with individuals the mortal felt had wronged them.

Non-malicious forms of lycanthropy are more often than not embraced by their recipient. The reason for this is fairly simple. Due to the moral nature of lycanthropes afflicted with moral strains of lycanthropy, they rarely bite individuals and pass on the curse without the receiver’s informed consent. Thanks to this, good lycanthropes usually only bite people whose nature already matches closely with their curse’s, meaning that embracing the power comes only with benefits and with no loss of who they were. Transmitting the curse like this is normally only done after long consideration, and often with the intention of making the recipient into an apprentice of sorts, willing to carry on the transmitter’s works.

Sex and Sexuality Among Lycanthropes

Among the myriad of wild instincts lycanthropes possess, most strains contain some level of innate, bestial lust. Often, this drive to fuck is overwhelmed by other, more violent instincts, but they are virtually always there. Lycanthropes who embrace their nature can often use their intellect to strike a fine balance, remaining able to follow their animal instincts in other places while still being able to keep at least one mate alive and available to have sex with, if not always willing. A lycanthrope whose monstrous self only emerges with the full moon may take a brief reprieve from her rampage to rape an isolated woman before killing her, or else exert her desire by forcing herself upon the toughest and most fearsome of beasts. Many lycanthropes, including those more driven to murder, can feel an affinity for the animals that they transform into, willing to accept them as companions or at least hold off on slaughtering them as long as they show total submission, sexual included.

Though willing to have sex with wild beasts and often looking a lot like them, female lycanthropes still breed like their uncursed contemporaries, at least insofar as what they can reproduce with. Most lycanthropes are sexually demanding, fucking frequently and roughly even if they are of a nicer countenance. Often, the best lovers a lycanthrope can find to tolerate their aggressive sexuality is another lycanthrope of their kind. When these sexual romps result in pregnancy, a whole multigenerational pack of lycanthropes can spring fourth.

Most lycanthropes that are of a good heart, either by their strain’s nature or their desperate struggle against it, seek to avoid impregnating anyone. The reason for this is that when a lycanthrope breeds either with another lycanthrope or with somebody uninfected by the curse, the resulting children will be born infected by it, the curse forced upon them without them having any say in the matter. Since their souls are merged with the lycanthropic spirit from their inception, a born lycanthrope will invariably grow up to show the nature of their lycanthropic lineage. What’s more, the fundamental position of the beast in a born lycanthrope’s soul makes the curse virtually incurable in them, with normal curse-removing magics doing nothing, and only truly world-shaking power like a genie-granted wish or a deity’s direct intercedence can purge it from them.

Men to Lycanthropes

The reactions female lycanthropes have to men generally depend both on the strain they have and how they are responding to it, but over all their reaction will be at least somewhat negative, and their normal reaction may not be all that different for the fragile mortal before them happening to have a cock. For women cursed with lycanthropy and actively resisting the beast’s call, a man can be a terrible thing to meet. Not only may a man’s appearance trigger the beast's lust, making her fight all the harder, but if she does succumb to sexual desire and does allow him to fuck her, she puts her womb at risk of him deciding to impregnate it. If the lycanthrope does get impregnated by a man, she will be forced to birth a child who is not only subject to the same curse as her but is also born beholden to the very bestial instincts she spends her every living moment trying to fight off.

If a resisting lycanthrope encounters a man on her full moon rampages, the stowed fury of her bestial form will likely make her too driven to kill to try and open sexual avenues. Still, if a moon-crazed lycanthrope can be restrained or otherwise persuaded to believe her slaughter is over for the night, the beast may try to encourage a man involved to mate with her. Not only does this offset some of the ceaseless aggression, but there is also a chance that the man will knock them up, leaving their sane alter ego to wake up with a cursed monster in her womb.

When a lycanthrope embraces or is born with the curse, their behavior can be a little more varied. Still, most lycanthropes are of a wild, irrepressible nature that stokes violent fury in the face of those who would try to dominate them, as most assume a man will want to do. As such, most lycanthropes are initially hostile to men and male creatures, often killing them with prejudice if they have the presence of mind to do so. On the other hand, however, men are exceptional breeding machines, their very scent and presence stoking the lust most have under their aggressive exterior. As such, a lycanthrope who finds some common ground with a man, either through diplomacy or being dominated in combat, may allow these more lustful instincts to the fore.

Of course, humanoid men are as mortal as women, and therefore, it seems that masculinity alone does not provide immunity to lycanthropy. Male lycanthropes are often a huge threat to the regions they inhabit, for not only can they be killers, but if they impregnate any humanoid, as many men do as a simple matter of course, all of the resulting offspring will be born lycanthropes. Men who receive the curse and resist it often find themselves having to turn to creatures that cannot suffer from lycanthropy, like beasts and monsters. Still, in the throes of the full moon, a male lycanthrope allowed to run free often leaves just as many women pregnant with likely murderous, lycanthropic babies as dead in his wake. When a man embraces his lycanthropy, he seldom cares about these consequences, often taking a form of perverse pride in expending his pack, infecting the women he most enjoys raping so that she can survive a life as his breeding slut.

Oddly, there are far fewer records of lycanthropes giving birth to males compared to uninfected humanoids of their kind, the curse of lycanthropy apparently having a reductive effect on the already slim chance of a woman birthing a baby boy. As a result, the vast majority of male lycanthropes gained their curse through an external source, typically a bite from an existing lycanthrope. Assuming the lycanthrope has the mental faculties to realize what she is doing, then she will likely realize that infecting a man with her strain of lycanthropy will turn him into a juggernaut for breeding more of their kind. Whether this proposition is good or bad generally depends on the type of lycanthrope in question and their current situation.

What is more unilaterally unpleasant for lycanthropes is the knowledge that male lycanthropes tend to dominate within lycanthrope packs. Since the natural strikes of a lycanthrope are practically useless against another of their kind, most disputes come to little. The power of a male to overwhelm a female and rape her into submission, however, gives him a real, tangible way to express his authority, letting him fuck and dominate his way to pack leader, assuming he embraces his primeval gifts and participates in brutal pack politics. The knowledge that her victim could well become her master tends to turn many lycanthropes off of intentionally biting men, or at least gives them pause before doing so.

Chapter 169: Werebear (Art)

Often large and bulky in their humanoid form, with thick hair cascading down their back, werebears transform into towering ursine beasts, able to rip a tree from the earth one handed. While almost certainly among the most physically imposing of lycanthropes, they are also, fortunately, among the few that tend towards good. Though usually of a moral nature, regardless of which form they occupy, a werebear still isn’t a perfectly safe being to visit. While a werebear will not actively hunt creatures down and generally works for the common good, interference, alarm, and other forms of stress can make a werebear instinctively lash out its source. As such, it is best to approach a werebear with respect and caution, or better yet, leave them alone.

Territorial Guardians

Unlike the nature of most lycanthropes, the morality inherent with the werebear curse is not entirely intractable. It is not in good’s nature to force its philosophy on a soul. As such, while most werebears feel a distinct pull towards doing the right thing, it is not as overwhelming as a wereboar or werewolf’s hold of evil. As such, while most lycanthropic curses try to reshape the person they are infected with, the curse of werebear lycanthropy is always at risk of being reshaped by its carrier. Werebears can and do fall to evil on occasion, the inherent benevolence of their bestial spirit being eroded with every misdeed. Other werebears often feel duty bound to slay such detractors, lest their villainy transform their curse into something no better than the more well-known, murderous lycanthropes.

Werebears hunt for more than just fallen instances of their own kind. Most werebears claim a sizable area of forest, grassland, or mountains. Patrolling this area, the werebear sniffs out any source of evil that dares set foot in her domain. Many a raiding orc tribe or hobgoblin bandit clan has horror stories of ambushes gone awry when they themselves were ambushed by bears immune to their weaponry, who strike with an animal’s strength and ferocity while showing humanoid tactical acumen and wielding heavy weaponry such as greataxes and mauls. Orcs in particular fear these assaults, for bear attacks are often considered a sign of displeasure from Luthic, one of their goddesses, a superstition most werebears are happy to exploit to prevent unneeded bloodshed.

The most despised enemies of werebears are evil lycanthropes. Most werebears subscribe to the idea that lycanthropy was never meant to be a curse but a blessing from a benevolent source, normally Selûne, and that most other kinds of lycanthropes became corrupted when their initial beneficiaries used the power granted to them for their own selfish and violent ends. Thus seeing themselves as some of the only lycanthropes to stay true to their power’s true purpose, they see evil lycanthropes as traitors of their spirit.

When a werebear encounters a victim infected by an evil form of lycanthropy but still fighting it, they often offer the poor soul refuge in their territory. When the full moon comes, the werebear’s immunity to their guest's bites and claws allows them to keep the rampaging lycanthrope in a night-long stalemate until their senses return. If such a soul embraces or is born with the curse, there is no helping them, and the only mercy the werebear can offer is death. Of course, a werebear’s fangs and claws are no more able to penetrate another lycanthrope’s skin than they are able to harm her. As such, most werebears work to attain a magical or silvered weapon of some kind for the express purpose of putting evil lycanthropes down. In the wrong hands, such a weapon could also harm their owner, so when not on the hunt for a fellow lycanthrope, most werebears keep them hidden and locked away, often in a hidden niche of their home or in some ruin with existing magical protections.

While having the aggression of a bear, most werebears also have humanoid insight and capacity for mercy; thus, they understand that not all crimes should carry a death sentence. Loggers who are overeager in felling a werebear’s forest are generally frightened away by roaring, charging, and at most a good roughing up before the werebear turns to their equipment, smashing it to bits. Werebears also begrudgingly understand that goodness requires more than just destroying evil. A lost traveller might find a strong, scruffy-looking forester willing to guide them back to civilization, never once suspecting that their saviour could become a mighty bear at will. A werebear may even offer shelter and wisdom of the wilderness to adventurers of seemingly heroic intent, though such things are given less than happily, for most werebears find crowds aggravating and will not tolerate guests for longer than is strictly necessary to be of aid.

Solitary Hermits

Most often at peace with their untamed spirit, most werebears are distinctly uncomfortable if they are anywhere near strangers or civilization and will spend their entire lives in solitude in the wilderness if they can help it. Fittingly, werebears tend to live somewhat of a double life. Half of the time, a werebear will live as a bear, wandering her domain, living off of fish, berries, and occasional carrion just as a natural bear would. Hardy, strong, and an expert of her territory, a werebear rarely struggles to survive in this way. Indeed, many werebears soon gain the respect of real bears in their territory. While not as direct as, say, a werewolf who has put herself in charge of a wolf pack, bears and werebears tend to become familiar with each other, to the point where they will both rush to one another’s defence if they seem in need of help.

Few werebears entirely reject their humanity, however. Far from sight, often tucked away in a forest clearing or mountain crag, a werebear will normally have constructed herself a pleasant, comfortable home, often a log cabin, thatched cottage, or at the very least a nicely furnished cave. Able to live and rest in quiet and comfort, a werebear’s home is often also home to many of her hobbies, generally of the sort that results in being able to feed herself. Near a werebear’s house, she will often have beehives for honey, barns in which to keep sheep and goats for wool, milk, and cheese, chicken coops for eggs, and gardens for fruits and vegetables. Her home will also likely be close to a lake or river, for many werebears have a fondness for fishing, be it with a rod or with her own claws. Great amounts of food that these pastimes grant werebears are all well and good, for the appetite of a werebear is often immense, and werebears are sometimes known to bring their excess produce to rural villages, either to barter for tools or simply to give to less fortunate families.

Though generally enjoying their solitude, werebears are capable of making non-bear friends. Generally, a werebear befriends people similar to her, those that appreciate the tranquillity of the wilderness and have a strong sense of justice and empathy. These friends mean the world to a werebear, and they will often be willing to betray their normal morals or even die to keep them safe. Though many of a werebear’s relationships can seem distant, their companions are always on a werebear’s mind. If a companion is notably younger or less experienced in the wild compared to the werebear, she may take them on as an apprentice of sorts, teaching them how to survive in nature and how to defend it from the forces of evil. Eventually, if the tutorship goes well, the tutor will have to make one of the hardest decisions of their life.

No matter how ferocious the battle, no matter how dangerous the opponent, no matter how much she claws and strikes with her weapons, a werebear will never try to bring down a humanoid foe with her bite. The power of werebear lycanthropy is wild and can overwhelm an unfit soul; it is thus not to be entrusted to an enemy nor forced upon an unprepared victim. A werebear thinks long and hard before offering to pass her lycanthropy on to a trusted companion, and even a close friend who seems willing or even eager to share in their curse is closely scrutinised for any sign they could lose control. Once the werebear passes their curse along, a process of helping the new werebear understand and come to peace with the beast inside them takes place, and only once the bitten have settled into their new life do they start acting for themselves, either sharing their progenitor’s territory or moving out to make one nearby.

Sex and Sexuality Among Werebears

As well as occasionally finding friends, werebears are also known to sometimes fall in love. Love, for a werebear, is a difficult thing. While having individuals they are glad to have visit on occasion is one thing, and having a student that they can help learn how to survive is another, but asking another person to spend their lives with one who lives half of theirs as a wild beast often feels like a proposition that they have no right to make. In addition, many werebears fear holding on too tightly to anyone they care for, in case an instinctive lashing out does them serious injury. Of course, such brutality against loved ones is virtually unheard of among werebears, though having sex with a being as strong as a werebear can leave a woman with a few accidental bumps and sprains.

Of course, many of the worries a werebear has about love could well be remedied if the object of their affections was a werebear themselves. Sometimes, two werebears will meet, ally, and then fall for each other, developing a romantic or sexual relationship that way. Other times, however, a werebear’s love interest becomes an interested and viable candidate for infection with werebear lycanthropy, the lover’s interest being either coincidental or out of a genuine desire to live in their lover’s world. Of course, this proposition forces the werebear to agonise over whether they have unfairly influenced their love’s agreement or if their own infatuation has blinded them to some hidden trait that would make biting their partner unwise.

In any case, once a relationship is established, the bond a werebear has with her partner is almost unbreakable. When a werebear is with her lover, she can show a happy, playful side rarely shown to others, often being rather physical in play wrestling and other rough and tumble games. At rest, the werebear likes to embrace her partner, holding them to her large breast, ready to protect them, come what may. Still, for all this closeness, a werebear still desires solitude, so the pair will spend a similar amount of time miles apart, especially if they are both werebears, instilling one another in the confidence that they can look after themselves.

This extreme physicality also extends to sexual encounters. Like most lycanthropes, werebears boil with an internal bestial instinct to fuck. With more fragile lovers, a werebear can temper her lust somewhat, making any injuries received by fucking her relatively minor. When to werebears, confident in their inability to accidently hurt each other, fuck, however, the ferocity they show can almost make it seem like a battle. Often done outside of the home to avoid collateral damage, werebears tend to fuck in their hybrid form to exert their full power on each other. Fucking werebears do not hold back on one another, biting, grabbing, wrestling, and slamming each other into trunks and cliffsides hard enough to inadvertently topple trees and trigger small rockslides.

Despite the aggression and frequency with which werebears can have sex, actual breeding among werebears is rare. Like all lycanthropes, the humanoid offspring of a werebear is always a werebear, and virtually no force can reverse that fact. Many werebears believe that it was through the heritability of the curse that other kinds of lycanthropy became so evil, that while the initial recipients of the boon were good people, their decedents were not. While naturally born werebears do seem to be born with a strong moral compass more often than not, the inability of a parent to withhold lycanthropy from their child until they prove themselves trustworthy, as one could with an unrelated apprentice, makes children a worrying prospect for most werebears. After all, if a naturally born werebear does turn out evil, the awful duty of destroying them may well fall to their parents.

Men to Werebears

On the whole, werebears do not like unfamiliar men. Sometimes, a werebear will come across a male beast and allow it to fuck her, especially if it is a male bear looking to give her actual bear cubs, since doing so helps to enrich nature. Male humanoids, however, are another matter entirely. On the whole, werebears know that men are not a wholly malicious breed and that some are even virtuous, but they also know that men will often think with their cocks before their brains and, as such, can be foolish or entitled, both traits that werebears consider antithetical to survival in the wilderness and difficult to have patience for.

If a werebear feels a man is not a villain in need of punishment or death, she will usually decide that letting him get himself killed in the wilderness would be too immoral to allow. She may thus approach him (normally in humanoid guise) and gruffly offer him help and advice as needed. Werebears prefer to keep these meetings as brief as possible and will generally meet any attempts at sexual activities with scorn, taking even simple flirtation as an insult to her person.

Still, with enough time and mutual interest to keep them working together, a man and a werebear can become allies or even good friends. Such a close bond with a man is difficult for a werebear. On the one hand, a werebear’s lustful instincts tell her to fuck a man she trusts to within an inch of his life. Rationally, however, a werebear knows that a man could easily impregnate her, with the resulting children carrying the same risk as any other natural-born werebear. Only once a werebear fully trusts a man won’t impregnate her against her will or has accepted the small risk that comes with pregnancy will she allow her instincts free reign and have sex.

Regardless of how much trust a werebear has in a man and how dedicated he is to being a guardian of nature like her, few werebears willingly pass werebear lycanthropy onto men, for among the many responsibilities such a burden has, being a werebear also requires one to be careful who they impregnate. Some of the few known male werebears mostly fucked beasts and the like, particularly bears, but a male werebear who can’t keep himself from knocking up humanoids could create a whole army of werebears, with the likelihood of one turning to evil increasing with each thoughtless impregnation.

Notes:

Big thanks to Beast Milk for the art in this series, find him here https://inkbunny.net/BeastMilk https://www.furaffinity.net/user/beastmilk/

Chapter 170: Wereboar

Few lycanthropes are known for their kindness or pleasantries; however, when it comes to unfiltered, wilful malice, one is hard pressed to find a lycanthrope much worse than a wereboar. Even in her humanoid state, a wereboar is rarely the most pleasant to look at, with a tendency towards squat heavyset builds and a face baring several unflattering, porcine features, upturned noses, short, stiff hair, and even overextended lower teeth resembling orcish tusks in some. When a wereboar transforms, they become a recalcitrant wild hog or a loathsome midpoint, capable of fighting with man-made weapons and their own jagged tusks, the vector of their curse. When a wereboar attacks, they charge into the fray, heedless of danger and revelling in how their curse may spread.

Infectious Bullies

A wereboar who is born as such or has given in to their curse is invariably a cruel and short-tempered thug. Their instincts mean that even if they have some intelligence or learning from before they transformed, they rarely have the patience to apply their brains to a situation unless all more violent tracks have failed. A wereboar’s preferred lifestyle is thus not all too mentally taxing, simply lazing around until an opportunity to sow misery and death arises.

For wereboars, the delight of seeing another creature’s day ruined at their hands is only surpassed when they instead ruin their lives. When a wereboar pack descends on a helpless merchant caravan before carting off the supplies and bodies of the dead for a grand feast, their pleasure comes not only from consumption but from the knowledge that the ale they get drunk on was meant for another’s lips, the grain they gorge on raw will deny someone likely weaker than them bread, and the flesh they char and savour was the daughter, sister, or mother of someone who now has to accept their demise.

With their unwillingness to sit down and think of more complex plans, wereboars tend towards actions of brutal, immediate ruin, relying on violence rather than wider-scale manipulation. Thanks to this, some wiser villains, such as hags or evil wizards, are known to recruit wereboars as dumb muscle, bullying them into submission and then bribing them with offers of food, loot, and opportunities to spread pain and suffering. Other times, wereboars are known to work with other brutish creatures, like ogres and orc tribes, filling out their ranks as respected and feared warriors.

Though a wereboar’s fury, led by the will of others, can create devastating results, wereboars are far from incapable of ruining lives by themselves. Perhaps the most insidious thing wereboars do by themselves is the intentional spreading of their own curse. Many lycanthropes see fit to limit whom and how often they spread their curse to others. This can be for multiple reasons, but it mostly boils down to territoriality. Wereboars, however, don’t mind sharing territory with one another and thus seek to spread their curse to anyone they can.

When a wereboar enters combat, they typically fight with mauls, greataxes, and other heavy weapons to compound the devastating power of their strength. However, as they bring their weapons down, a wearboar will also lash out with their tusks, not only giving them the thrill of an enemy’s blood in their mouth but also possibly infecting said enemy with wereboar lycanthropy. A wereboar in battle is consumed by a bestial bloodlust that drives them to keep fighting. Even if an enemy has silver weapons or magic, a wereboar’s relentlessness keeps them fighting with full vigour no matter how critical their wounds right up until their last breath.

When battle is done, survivors are collected up and taken prisoner. Prisoners of wereboars are not treated pleasantly; they are regularly gored until signs of infection start to show. When this point comes, the wereboars begin their favourite activity, forcing others to accept their lives as cursed beasts. Holding them captive without hope of a cure, the infecting wereboars bully and torment their infected captives, aggravating them to stoke their rage. Letting them loose on the full moon, wereboars aid their rampaging brethren in their rampages so they can confront them with their actions once the full moon sets. Consistently assaulting their prisoner’s will, the wereboars take delight in every agonising moment of resistance before the victim gives in and truly becomes one of them.

Despoiling Squatters

With their odious, destructive habits, any wereboar stupid enough to live openly in most civilised societies would likely be hunted down and destroyed swiftly. As such, wereboars tend to settle in areas further off the beaten track, away from the reach of municipalities where they can live by hunting and raiding less defended targets like villages and caravans. Generally hidden in woods and mountains, wereboars make their homes in caves, abandoned homesteads, and ramshackle huts.  Wereboars seldom live alone, however, often cohabitating with anywhere from two to eight of their kind.

Though sociable among themselves and a wereboar may consider others of their pack as friends, the actions wereboars enact on one another can seldom be described as kind. Even among their allies, wereboars can be aloof, abrasive, or vindictive, stoking one another’s fury until they break out in a physical brawl, both combatants exercising no restraint in the knowledge that they cannot do themselves any real injury without silver weapons. Thanks to this aggressive lifestyle, wereboar homes tend to exist in a constat state of disrepair, with nobody bothering to clean up filth or the shattered remains of furnishings broken in fights. This poor maintenance can make a wereboar lair a death trap for less resilient visitors even when the occupants are not home.

Usually loathe to so anything nearly as strenuous as running a farm, wereboars instead get most of their food and drink from raiding or living off the land. With a keen fondness for alcohol, some wereboars learn how to brew it, cobbling together ramshackle distilleries in which to make reeking beverages out of wild grains and fungi. When it comes to food, wereboars will eat almost anything, from roots and berries to earthworms and weeds, but they are most fond of mushrooms and meat, especially from big game.

Wereboars for food and pleasure, willing to beat a herd of animals to death for the fun of it and then just leave their carcasses to rot. With this monstrous overhunting, a pack of wereboars can quickly drain their area of deer and the like, and as such, prey learns their lands are best avoided. Even predators like wolves and bears gradually learn not to trifle with the wereboars and stay out of their territory. Without predators to control them, small creatures like rats, carrion birds, and other vermin too small and agile to fall under a wereboar’s clumsy blows tend to breed to plague proportions.

One creature that wereboars don’t attack quite as indiscriminately are wild boars and other undomesticated or feral pigs. This isn’t to say exactly that wereboars like pigs, and a wild boar that doesn’t show them due deference will likely be killed and eaten just as readily as any other animal, but generally wereboars will leave boars alone as long as they are left alone. In the territory of wereboars, boars tend to become increasingly carnivorous, taking carrion from abandoned wereboar kills. Though it's hard to tell if it is a direct, magical effect of eating something slain by a wereboar or simply the natural result of such a meat-centric diet, boars in wereboar territory seem to grow ever more predatory and crazed, hunting down and consuming any creature that crosses their path, people included. These bloodthirsty hogs are almost as deadly as their lycanthrope kin.

Sex and Sexuality Among Wereboars

Among the instinctive pleasures a wereboar possesses, the desire to simply have more of their kind around to spread yet more devastation is high on their list. Infecting new victims is one way for wereboars to attain this goal, but another is simply to breed. Most wereboars on confronting these options tend to elect to do both.

A wereboar can rape an uninfected woman, impregnating her with an infected, naturally evil baby; they certainly have no qualms against such an arrangement. However, if a wereboar has a woman in a position where they can rape her, there is generally no reason not to infect her too. Indeed, it is a common tactic of wereboars to rape and knock up a newly infected prisoner, knowing that the turmoil and dread of birthing a monstrous child that will inevitably side with one’s rapist may be the push a resisting soul needs to utterly give up on their humanity.

When there are no prisoners to rape, wereboars switch to a brutally simple system of breeding. The biggest and strongest wereboar among them has the exclusive right to fuck and impregnate the rest of the pack as she chooses. Infidelity or denials of sex are likely to get a weaker wereboar beaten and raped for her trouble. If another wereboar wishes to claim the strongest one’s privileges, they must fight for it. Since wereboars cannot cause true harm to one another, these fights can last for hours or even days until one capitulates in exhaustion. If one or both sides have access to silvered or magical weapons, the fight will likely be to the death.

Wereboar children are raised with similar brutality. Knowing that beatings can only hurt and frighten their offspring, not physically damage them, wereboars are liberal and creative with physical punishments, teaching their children that might make right. When it comes to the slim praise a wereboar may offer her children, it is awarded purely in terms of strength, with whichever child carries the most firewood or fetches the water fastest receiving the most of their mother’s attention, while the weakest may be kicked aside like a piece of refuse whenever they dare open their mouth. At the same time, however, wereboars will not put up with others tormenting or threatening even the lowliest runt of their litter.

Men to Wereboars

Supprisingly to some, especially those familiar with other, arguably less evil lycanthropes, wereboars almost unilatirally love men, seeing their ability to breed and fuck as making them the peak of dominance and power. Even female wereboars who are in charge of their own pack would be happy to defer to a man as long as he would breed her, seeing him as the more superior being. This love of men is so great that it can even trump their bestial bloodlust in most cases. The only times a wereboar is likely to actively try to kill a humanoid man is when she’s a resisting wereboar on a full moon-driven rampage or if he is actively trying to kill her and is effectively equipped to do so.

The quality of a male is generally judged by what kind of creature he is. Male beasts cannot impregnate a wereboar with more wereboars; while a wereboar may fuck them recreationally, the frustration of this fact may lead her to kill it eventually. Males immune to lycanthropy, such as male monsters, fey, and fiends, may impregnate a wereboar with more of her own kind, albeit one’s with odd quirks, so are appreciated or even worshipped by wereboars, so long as the male is of a sort that allows them to continue their brutal ways. Humanoid men are almost perfect by wereboar estimation, their only floor being that they are not wereboars themselves, able to impregnate any humanoid life with wereboar offspring, and that, unfortunately, is an issue a female wereboar is well able to solve.

Regardless of the kind of male they face, female wereboars are not big on seduction. If a direct demand to breed her is insufficient, a wereboar will likely try to overpower a man and get what she wants by force. Willing or otherwise, a wereboar will usually try to infect a man with wereboar lycanthropy while fucking him and try to assault and torment him into accepting the curse so that he can become their pack leader.

Through the years, a number of men have fallen to wereboar lycanthropy. Though it is hard to accurately count, it may well be that wereboar lycanthropy is the most common kind of lycanthropy for a man to contract, mostly due to the eagerness of wereboars to infect others, men in particular. When a male wereboar arises, his existence usually offers disastrous consequences. Infecting and raping any woman that draws his attention, a male wereboar makes new wereboars at a rate females can only imagine. If not promptly slain or cured, a male wereboar will end up with a farrow of breeding sows birthing his offspring at a near endless rate, creating an army of wereboars to ravage the land, enacting his wicked will.

Chapter 171: Wererat

When most people consider lycanthropes, they normally picture big, wild-looking individuals that turn into large, predatory animals. It is thus easy enough for a small, wiry individual with dark eyes and buck teeth to slip by unnoticed, under the watchful eyes of their enemies. It is thus that the wererats survive. Able to pass for normal people in their humanoid form, scamper about tight confines as a slightly larger than average rat, or fight fiercely in their repulsive in between form, the animal instinct of a wererat is not to rampage and brutalise, but to spread unseen, syphoning the profits of others and growing on a civilisation like a malignant disease, so deeply ingrained as to be near impossible to excise.

City Slickers

For most lycanthropes, the beast inside of them makes them uncomfortable in the confines of civilisation; their instincts to lash out and assert their power as a mighty predator would in nature serve only to draw the ire and persecution of the omnipresent throng of people. For wererats, however, the inverse is true. While a wererat can survive in the wild, it is usually an undesirable situation for them, the wilderness making them feel exposed and unsecure. It is in the press of the crowds and confinement of buildings and alleyways that the wererat feels in control.

Wererats are helped in their endeavours by being, arguably, the least violently inclined of lycanthropes. This is not to call wererats pacifists; the average wererat is quick with a knife and will not hesitate to kill a person in cold blood if it serves them, but they are not murderers on reflex. Even among traditionally benevolent lycanthropes, when roused to anger, slights are generally responded to with aggression or even assault. Wererats don’t like to respond to those they feel have wronged them so directly, however, instead slinking away from confrontation to surreptitiously bring such a foe’s ruin.

In the mind of a wererat, it is folly to gnaw on a slaughtered woman’s remains when one can take from a living one’s pantry for decades. While one is raiding her pantry, one would be a fool to turn their nose up at her coin purse. Of course, stealing from pantries and coin pouches can be a risky business, and any wererat with the business acumen and political know-how to do so will sooner gain their keep by entrenching themselves as an inescapable city enterprise, be it a smuggling ring, protection racket, or even hired assassins.

While wererats can walk by unnoticed in their humanoid form, most make a secondary home for themselves under the city. Using old sewer lines or catacombs, wererats create a labyrinth of tunnels that crisscross the city, connecting to wererat-controlled establishments by secret doors in the cellars and to the streets by ignorable hatches in rarely used alleys. Therefore, a wererat in need of an escape can seemingly vanish into an abandoned building or around a corner. Following a wererat into her kind’s tunnels is often a foolhardy endeavour, for the wererats consider their maze to be their territory, and it thus throngs with not only wererats armed and ready to slaughter any uninvited guest but also a menagerie of creatively lethal traps and rats of both ordinary and unusual size, often kept by wererats like guard dogs.

Twisted Clans

Like all lycanthropes, wererats are granted several enhancements by their curse. An individual afflicted with wererat lycanthropy cannot be truly harmed by any mundane assault bar those utilising silver weapons. The curse also grants the wererat some rodent-like agility and a stealthier rat form to skitter along in. However, the greatest strength a wererat draws from her curse is the sense of unity that comes with it.

While other lycanthropes may form packs out of convenience or to establish some sense of community, wererats thrive off of community. While it is rare for werewolf or wereboar packs to grow beyond about a dozen members before infighting tears them apart, that amount is about the bare minimum membership a wererat pack can tolerate, with clans with tens or hundreds of members being far from unusual.

This is not to say that wererats are perfectly compassionate to one another. wererat clans tend to be strictly hierarchical ruled over by a brilliant and charismatic leader, with their children and the wererats they infected directly serving as the upper echelons of the clan, normally living in relative luxury by infiltrating key public sectors such as sanitation committees and undertaker guilds, both of which have the additional benefit of providing privacy in the tunnels. Meanwhile, the bulk of wererats live harder lives, acting as cutpurses, burglars, and agents of their betters, kicking back much of their profits to the higher-ups to fund their wider schemes.

Higher wererats can be vindictive to their underlings, and underlings can be sharp-tonged in their resentment, but ultimately, wererats of the same clan, high and low, will support one another. When somebody harms even the lowliest of wererats, they make an enemy of that wererat’s entire clan. While a wererat boss may expect their cronies to do difficult or unpleasant work, subjecting them to needless suffering is intolerable to her. Cruelty is to be inflicted on outsiders, not on esteemed sisters in the curse.

To a wererat, inflicting someone with the curse of wererat lycanthropy makes them akin to one’s family. As such, wererats are careful not to spread their lycanthropy haphazardly. In her hybrid or rat form, a wererat can deliver a fairly nasty bite, but they are loathe to do so unless they have no other way to defend themselves, much preferring to stab an enemy with a shortsword or shoot them with a crossbow rather than risk unintentional infection. If an individual proves themselves useful and loyal to the wererat clan, a wererat willing to vouch for them will bring them to the leadership. With the agreement of the wererat’s in charge, the new recruit can swear fealty to the clan and be inducted into it, receiving all the “gifts” that entails, including an infectious bite from the wererat that vouched for their membership.

With the elitist view wererats have of their curse, the thought of their curse spreading beyond their clan’s control is not one that can be tolerated. Wererat clans of commensurate power operating in separate cities can ally on occasion, but individual wererats seeking independence from the clan, either due to being accidently infected or being a member attempting to break ties, must be either forcibly brought into the fold or destroyed. In either case, wererat clans will go to great lengths to reach such a dissident, desperate to show others who may follow in their footsteps that the clan’s wrath is inescapable. Of course, if a wererat refuses to reintegrate, her lycanthropic nature prevents her perusers from simply putting a crossbow bolt in her head. As such, the upper echelons of wererat clans often keep silver blades under lock and key for the express purpose of executions or know how to make various toxic tinctures, with a brew made of poison ivy proving particularly deadly to any wererat made to consume it.

Sex and Sexuality Among Wererats

With how loyal wererats are expected to be to their clans, it is rare for lasting sexual relationships to form outside of it. A wererat may have sex for pleasure with an outsider, spending her coin on whores and escorts to work off some of her bestial lust in a manageable way. A wererat may fall in love with an outsider, this attraction leading her to try and get the person inducted into the clan, but normally, a wererat is expected to settle down with another, existing clan member.

Most wererats will attain a single sexual partner of a commensurate social rank, their union blessed by the leadership of their clan. However, a wererat of low rank of notable beauty or seductiveness may be able to marry into the upper echelons of the clan and earn a better life for themselves. Likewise, particularly influential wererats may flaunt their influence by keeping multiple wives.

With numbers being their primary strength, wererats are driven to breed intensively. Once a wererat has a long-term sexual partner, the pair may fuck as their primary recreational activity, trying furiously to impregnate one another whenever they have even minutes spare. While such a distinctly attention-grabbing activity is generally done away from the prying eyes of the uninitiated, most wererats get used to pairs screwing with wild abandon in their tunnels.

Though, like all lycanthropes, wererats experience pregnancy, birth, and early physical development mostly as an uninfected instance of their race would, young wererats become independent rapidly. Among human wererats, for example, a five-year-old child will likely begin taking active part in criminal schemes and, behind closed doors, may begin looking for a mate and breeding herself from as young as eight. In this way, a handful of wererats can explode into a plage in less than a decade.

Men to Wererats

Though opinions can vary a little bit, most wererats consider men to be hazardous for their ability to look after themselves and annoying for their tendency to let their dick lead them into places they would be better off ignoring, such as a wererat’s criminal operations. If a man’s sex-driven curiosity happens to lead him to discovering clan secrets, then he is unfortunately a liability that must either be incorporated into the clan or destroyed.

Generally, wererats know that men tend to be hard to kill, so if he seems open to diplomacy with them, they may make attempts to ally with him using seduction and deception to make their actions seem more innocent and their cause more acceptable. If a wererat clan can lull a man into an alliance, they also earn the benefit of having an incredible breeder to help their numbers explode. As a result, an incautious man can subject a settlement to a veritable wererat plague.

With how useful a man can be to a clan and how driven to fuck wererats can be, wererats of a more common standing can sometimes feel that it would likely be wise to induct a man into the clan, infecting him with wererat lycanthropy. However, most wererat leaders deny such proposals outright, preferring to keep their male allies at arm’s length. If a man does become infected with wererat lycanthropy, the leading wererats often drop any pretence of alliance, seeking or fabricating causes to have him labelled a traitor to call for his execution.

The reason for this fearsome distain for male wererats among the wererat leadership is as simple as it is self-centred. With how pleasurable a man can be and how dominant they can act, men permitted to take part in the internal politics of wererat society often gain broad support from the lower rungs. From there, a male wererat often uses his influence to usurp the leadership, taking over the clan. With ultimate power over the clan, a male wererat often uses his power not only to expand the clan’s numbers but also to attain and fuck any woman he wants. Since any child of a wererat is a wererat, any child born of a clan outsider tends to be kidnapped by the clan so as to be raised among their own kind.

Chapter 172: Weretiger

Found mostly in warmer, more tropical climes, weretigers are solitary, consummate hunters. Whether aiming with a bow in their normally sleek and athletic humanoid form, stalking prey as a noble tiger, or doing either in their powerful hybrid state, a weretiger hunts for survival and out of pride, never for sport or simple pleasure. Unlike many lycanthropes, the curse of weretiger lycanthropy does not bring malice into the mind of its victim, driving them to attack people, but it does come with a certain amount of arrogant haughtiness and a desire to be left alone.

Noble Hunters

Like many lycanthropes, weretigers prefer to live largely self-sufficient lives away from other humanoids. Depending on where a weretiger sets up her hunt, she may be more or less tolerant of others. A weretiger who lives on the outskirts of a settlement generally understands that she will have to deal with people sharing her hunting grounds. On the other hand, one who has gone to the trouble of moving out into the middle of nowhere will likely be enraged to find intruders, possibly to the point of attacking with the intent of scaring them off.

Spending years alone in the wilderness, very little goes on in a weretiger’s vast territory without her knowing about it, her sharp eyes, sensitive ears, and keen nose tuned to her domain. As a result, if anything is amiss in the local area, a weretiger can be an invaluable source of information. Such inquisitive should take care, however, to be on their best behaviour and preferably come baring gifts. Weretigers don’t take to guests well at the best of times, and some are even known to eat visitors that offend them.

Of course, rude guests make up only a tiny proportion of a weretiger’s diet. Regardless of what they once were, a weretiger is an almost exclusively carnivorous creature who, while she may accept gifts of meat, prefers to hunt for herself, generally for animals like deer and boar. Indeed, weretigers take great pride in their hunting skills, often festooning the huts or caves they make their comfortable home in with fur rugs and mounted heads of their most impressive kills. On the rare occasion a weretiger willingly enters a community, it is normally to trade the furs she’s collected for tools and other things she cannot make for herself.

A weretiger may employ weapons like bows and blades to complete a hunt as humanoids do, or she may simply become a tiger and hunt as comes naturally. However, no matter how she does it, a weretiger retains a powerful sense of fair play. Finding traps to be a sign of weakness, weretigers have no respect for those that hunt with them, instead respecting those that hunt as they do, with stealth and predatory instinct. While the prey may sometimes spot the hunter and escape, the weretiger accepts that the hunt is a game and sometimes the prey must win, leaving the hunter with nothing to do but be magnanimous in defeat.

Conditions where the sport is tipped violently in the hunter's favour, such as canned hunts, utterly ruin the honour of a hunter’s life in a weretiger’s eyes. Likewise, when a weretiger kills, she makes full use of her prey’s remains and does not go hunting again until her hunger demands it. Hunters who kill needlessly also invite a weretiger’s wrath. When faced with so-called hunters that refuse the honour of a fair chase and slaughter more than they could possibly need, a weretiger thirsts for vengeance. She may silently break down fences and the like to let animals caught in canned hunts go free before she turns the tables on the vanity killer, making them her prey.

Arrogant Loners

Well aware of the power and resilience afforded to them by it, few weretigers truly see their strain of lycanthropy as a curse. Instead, being a weretiger is a blessing and a privilege they possess by virtue of their own greatness. As such, weretigers consider themselves to be of the highest form of nobility, socially on par with other great hunters such as dragons. Other kinds of lycanthropes are at least respected, if not liked, for sharing a weretiger’s illustrious heritage. Other humanoids, with the exception of the mightiest of hunters and the highest of nobility, are little more than animals in a weretiger’s eyes, with her withholding from hunting them as such simply because of how inconvenient it is to deal with the retaliation that would likely come.

This perception of their nature also influences how the curse of weretiger lycanthropy is spread. Considering weretiger lycanthropy to be a gift only the worthiest can possibly deserve, a weretiger will never bite a humanoid without great forethought. If one receives the bite of a weretiger, it means that they consider one to be of a fearsome warrior’s spirit or of the highest noble blood. No common rube is ever considered for the curse.

However, even if a weretiger considers a person worthy of weretiger lycanthropy, they may still not bite them. The reason for this is a matter of territoriality. More people afflicted with the curse means more weretigers, and for a weretiger, more weretigers means more serious competition for territory and for prey. Largely antisocial, even with each other, weretigers almost never form packs. At the very most, weretigers may meet where their territorial borders touch and exchange news and resources. These relationships can be friendly, rivalrous, or marked by largely ignoring one another, but they are almost always tense, with even weretigers who consider themselves allies or even mates being uncomfortably tense with extended time in one another’s presence.

Though capable of beastly wrath, disagreements between weretigers in matters of territory and the like are generally settled with words and competition rather than direct conflict. After all, weretigers cannot wound one another without silver. This method of territoriality can make weretigers surprisingly talented orators when they feel so inclined. Weretigers are also known to accept wagers and competitions concerning physical skills and practical knowledge in exchange for their assistance or simply their forbearance against intruders. Though usually confident enough in their own skills to feel assured in their victory, they do normally stick to the terms of the agreement should they lose. Fairly beating a weretiger in such a contest is also one of the few ways for an uninfected person to earn a measure of their respect.

Sex and Sexuality Among Weretigers

Though solitary for most of the time, Weretigers do feel the same primal urge to breed as other lycanthropes. To fulfil this desire, weretigers normally sought each other out as mates. Normally, the act of satisfying each other's sexual needs is simply a matter of efficiency, with weretigers showing a willingness to fuck pretty much any other weretiger that they weren’t deadly enemies with. Such matings were often brief, and instead of blossoming into full-blown romantic relationships, a weretiger simply keeps a mental record of nearby weretigers whom she considers preferred sexual partners. This isn’t to say that weretigers can’t love their sexual partners; simply that it is not strictly necessary for sex, and such lovers are generally kept at arm’s length, with excessive intimacy outside of fucking being disfavoured.

Sometimes, a weretiger’s sexual attractions draw her not to another of her kind but to an uninfected humanoid. Normally, such a person will have to either be a skilled hunter or an aristocrat, such as a princess, to gain her attention. Sometimes, this attraction may lead a weretiger to suppress her lonesome ways and attempt to court or impress the object of her desires into laying with her. Other times weretigers are less present, stalking their target before striking out to rape or kidnap them, their capability to do so, justifying their action in their mind.

Occasionally, a weretiger may decide that such a lover simply must become one of her kind, leading her to bite them. Once the target of her infatuation is infected with weretiger lycanthropy, the weretiger will normally back off for a while, giving the victim time to either fight or embrace the curse before she comes back to see whether her converted love has become interested in mating.

However, bites are not the most common form of proliferation among weretigers. Just as a queen would with her royal title, a weretiger prefers not to gift her curse to unrelated strangers but pass it down to her children. Weretigers mate fairly infrequently, with only a few of their sexual encounters being intentionally reproductive. Once a weretiger gets pregnant, she expects no more assistance from her mate, retreating back to her home to prepare for her children. On the whole, weretigers make decent parents; they can be somewhat strict with their children, holding them to the highest standards, but also encourage them to take pride in their successes and defend them from danger with their lives. However, once a weretiger is old enough to look after herself, her mother will generally send them away, no longer tolerating them in her territory.

Men to Weretigers

The opinion a weretiger has on any particular male creature depends exactly what kind of creature it is. Most weretigers agree that masculinity is a special force, a source of raw primal power; however, weretigers believe that this unique power is expressed in different ways by different males, and some expressions are more worthy of her than others. For example, a male stag is a noble creature, but a female weretiger would sooner hunt it than fuck it so she could brag about taking down such unique prey. On the other hand, a predatory beast such as a lion, tiger, or even some monsters that happen to be male display a raw masculine power that leaves most weretigers honoured to bare their cubs.

When it comes to humanoid men, weretigers cannot tell his worthiness quite as easily as she could with a monster or beast, for men generally do not wear their power on their sleeve. Weretigers believe that most humanoid men are rendered soft by civilisation, losing their predatory spark in a flood of humble women willing to fuck them without a struggle. Such men have lost their worth in a weretiger’s eyes, and she will fight and kill to keep such pathetic specimens from touching her.

On the other hand, some men still have the hunter’s instincts. Though not always given to rape in the first instance, such men have the guile and power to make any female their mate. It takes a lot to convince a weretiger that a man has such qualities. They may even need to defeat her in single combat, but if they succeed, they will prove to her that he is a worthy and highly desirable mate. This isn’t always a good course of action.

As with women who attract them, weretigers encouraged to feel attraction to men sometimes feel compelled to keep him so that she may continue to mate with him. At best, such an obsession may result in the weretiger following a man, becoming jealous of and vengeful towards other women he lays with. Other weretigers may instead try to abduct the man, keeping him prisoner in her lair so that she can repeatedly have sex with him. Generally, these obsessions don’t last too long, however, and, as long as she is impregnated at least once, she won’t search too hard for a man that manages to escape her grasp.

Even when a weretiger obsesses over a man, it is rare for her to willingly pass her lycanthropy to him. A male weretiger is not only uncontested in predatory dominance, making him virtually uncontrollable by females, but he is also likely to breed just as indiscriminately as he did before infection, flooding the area in his wake with more and more weretiger cubs, creating a whole new generation of competition.

Chapter 173: Werewolf

Considered by some to be the emblematic face of lycanthropes and perhaps the purest strain of the curse, the werewolf is the epitome of the savage, unrestrained fury of the wilderness, raging against any modicum of control and on an endless quest to savagely destroy. Even in humanoid form, malice glimmers in a werewolf’s eyes, like a beast pacing behind the bars of a cage. With unkempt hair, exaggerated canines, and pointed nails, every part of its humanoid form hints at the beast inside, fighting at every moment to come free, turning into a bloodthirsty wolf or a monstrous hybrid. While many struggle valiantly to keep it at bay, the beast strives constantly to get out and wreak havoc.

Savage Killers

Where other lycanthropes resist the worst parts of their bestial instincts or do so in persuit of other goals, the primary aim of a werewolf under the influence of its bestial spirit is to kill. While a werewolf will eat some of the remains of its victims once there are none that still live, food is a secondary concern, with a werewolf usually choosing to go on killing if there are still victim alive. Indeed, werewolves don’t even care who it is they are attacking, for it is the act of slaughter itself that serves to quiet the instincts that torment them, so long as the slaughter continues.

When a werewolf attacks, it is a savage display of uncontrolled violence. Indeed, it is by this uncontrolled nature that werewolves propagate. For most lycanthropes, biting is a considered act, done with intent to grow their numbers. Werewolves have no such outward considerations, but as they attack, they use all the natural weapons available to them, both their claws and their infectious bite. If a resilient enough person receives a bite from a werewolf on a rampage, they might hold on long enough for the curse to set in, making them immune to their infector’s further attacks. When the werewolf’s instincts tell them that they can no longer kill their victim, they abandon them to recover from their wounds and adjust to their new, cursed lives.

Most people, on being subjected to werewolf lycanthropy, are horrified by the instincts striving to take them over and seek to resist the curse. In an effort to remove themselves from anyone they could accidentally hurt, the werewolf retreats deep into the wilderness, away from people. As with all who resist the curse of lycanthropy, the full moon forces a resisting werewolf to take on their bestial form and go on the hunt, preferably for intelligent life. For this reason, many seek to seal themselves in on nights of the full moon, shutting themselves away in prisons they hope their alter ego will be unable to escape.

Living out in the wilderness, away from others, werewolves tend to become increasingly more animalistic. In some cases, this eventually leads them to surrender to the beast within entirely, embracing the dark instincts. In others, however, this brings about a form of peace, the werewolf living in nature and finding an appreciation for the simpler things in life. Some such werewolves end up attracting a pack of regular or dire wolves to keep them company, the beasts having an almost supernatural affinity for the afflicted. Werewolves do sometimes tolerate wolves accompanying them in their bloodthirsty state, holding off from killing their canine companions so long as they respect their authority and aid them in the hunt.

Packs and Loners

Despite resembling wolves and sometimes attracting them to their side, werewolves can take or leave companionship, especially once they’ve embraced the curse. A curse-embracing or natural-born werewolf is a hateful, selfish creature that thinks primarily about where they can next find something to kill. To a werewolf’s basic instincts, a companion is just something else to murder.

However, when a werewolf’s instincts are working in concert with her humanoid mind as opposed to against them, she becomes capable of more complex though. This is not to say that sowing death is not the first thing on a curse driven werewolf’s mind, it always is, but they become able to find more and more entertaining things to kill when they’re capable of more than a mindless rampage.

Sometimes, a werewolf may find themselves in the employ of a particularly ruthless villain, a figure able to direct them towards targets ripe for the killing. Such relationships are fraught with peril for the employer, however, for werewolves have no sense of loyalty. They do not kill for gold or glory, nor do they do so for any cause; they simply kill because murder is their most comfortable state. While some may offer the werewolf victims and payment to sweeten the deal, most alliances with werewolves are made under some form of duress on the lycanthrope’s part, for werewolves with a functioning humanoid mind have the ability to recognise individuals capable of killing them, such as spellcasters and warriors with silver weapons, and a desire not to die. If her allies look like easier marks than their target, a werewolf will kill them first, thinking nothing of the betrayal.

More often, therefore, when werewolves do cooperate, it tends to be with other werewolves. Unable to kill each other barehanded, leadership among the werewolves is decided through threat, intimidation, bullying, and, if they’re available, access to magic or silver. Often, werewolf packs develop around other institutions, such as barbarian tribes or mercenary guilds, the infection having entered the institution and survived in its strongest members. Such werewolves may uphold the traditions of their past, hold places important to their history as sacred, and even induct new members with intentional infection, but under all the pageantry, it is all merely an excuse to sow death on a wider scale.

Sex and Sexuality Among Werewolves

Though usually eclipsed by their instinct to kill, the werewolf instinct to fuck is almost as strong. When killing is taken off the table, a werewolf burns for sexual relief and will fuck nearly anything and everything to relieve it. This is rarely seen however, for the logical reason that, while there is something to fuck around that usually means that there is something to try and kill too, in which case the drive to murder always takes precedent.

There are only a handful of situations where a werewolf has the opportunity to fuck. When werewolf is a loner, she may rub her pussy against trees and rocks and the like, in order to simulate sex. Others use wolves, who are though to survive around werewolves only because they trigger their sexual instincts slightly more than their killer ones. Still, werewolves are rarely all that gentle with their canine partners and it is not uncommon for wolves to be injured or even killed in the process of being raped by a werewolf.

A werewolf who is coerced into fighting for a greater villain may demand among her payments prisoners to kill and whores to fuck. Ironically, the knowledge that killing a pleasure girl may get her punished by her keeper gives the werewolf the freedom to exercise her sexual instincts to a greater degree instead of just killing constantly. Of course, such an arrangement is not perfect, and it is usually only a matter of time before the werewolf begins to confuse execution victims and concubines.

In a pack, options are wider, and the general immunity werewolves have to each other’s blows makes fatalities less likely. Still, werewolf sexuality is far from a peaceful process. With an active hatred for being controlled, werewolves seldom try to court their packmates as they try to rape them whenever their guard is down. Since true victory in a fight is nigh unattainable, werewolves generally have to fuck while mating, and in many packs, forcefully impregnating a packmate is counted as a victory of sorts.

As one can expect from most being walking marks of their mother’s defeat, werewolves fond look after their children so well. However, since they know they can’t kill them, werewolves generally don’t assault their children as often as one might think, instead simply raising them with dispassion and watching as they grow into monsters. Since they stand to gain some pleasure in seeing the children grow into killers, most werewolves take offense to attempt to kill their offspring and will come to their children’s defence, though they will happily abandon their children if defending them seems likely to result in their own demise.

Men to Werewolves

In the simplest terms, werewolves hate male life in all its forms. With sexual prowess being one of the only ways for werewolves to show superiority among each other, a werewolf knows that men are naturally talented in this field and can stand to overwhelm her. As such, sex is one of the few biases werewolves show when deciding who to kill besides humanoid-level intelligence, electing to kill intelligent males, followed by unintelligent males, followed by intelligent females, followed by unintelligent females. Even werewolves who are actively resisting their violent curse try to avoid men, though this is for a more practical reason. If a man is the sort who is willing and able to impregnate her against her will, a werewolf impregnated by a man will have to birth a child who embraces her werewolf lycanthropy entirely, in other words, a monster.

When a werewolf has the presence of mind to operate in alliances, she will never willingly enter one with a man, seeking to kill him or get as far away from his cock as possible. A werewolf may comply with basic commands a man gives if her life is threatened, but the more at risk of rape she feels, the more feral and savage a werewolf becomes, to the point where a werewolf will sooner lose control and leap into an unwinnable battle before allowing a man to fuck her. As such, most men can only hope to fuck a werewolf while she is powerfully restrained.

Though even more hateful of men than all other life, werewolves are no less restrained with their aggression; as such, it is not unheard of for a werewolf to bite and infect a man with werewolf lycanthropy in the process of trying to kill him. If this happens, it can be safely said that nobody wins—not the man, not the werewolf, not anybody who is even remotely nearby. Like female werewolves, a male werewolf largely kills whatever he can. However, male werewolves don’t simply abandon women they’ve infected. When a male werewolf comes across or creates a female werewolf, he uses the extreme sexual power in his cock to rape them into submission, creating a pack of werewolves that fearfully obey him and serve his desires every moment he’s not on the hunt for more to fuck and kill. Eventually, his intensive breeding will create an army of werewolves that can ravage the land, often forcing groups of lycanthrope hunters to go out and put the man down.

With the social structure that male werewolves can implement among their kind, some more foolish men think that they possess the power to tame female werewolves with their cock. They do not. Most often than not, a man foolish enough to try and fuck a werewolf into submission is going to have her escape and try to kill him first. Even male werewolves, who can rape some level of fear and obedience into females, cannot make them into anything more or less than fuckable killer beasts.

Chapter 174: Magmin

Small, capricious elementals of earth and fire, magmins are small, goblin-like entities made of boiling magma, sealed in a shell of igneous rock. Through small cracks, especially around the hands and fingers, gouts of flame may suddenly spurt. Utterly carefree and totally thrill-seeking, magmins cavort amongst flames and leap between infernos with glee. Where such entertaining blazes do not exist, magmins create them with their flaming touch, totally ignorant of the devastation they cause for those not made of flame.

Magmatic Menaces

Naturally, magmins make their home on the Elemental Planes. Specifically, there are moderate populations on both the Elemental Planes of Earth and Fire, with the majority of magmins found on the minor plane between the two. Known technically as the Para-Elemental Plane of Magma, the transitional plane between those of earth and fire is more commonly known by its colloquial title, the Fountains of Creation. Having gained its title for its role as a natural planar forge, magmins have certainly not contributed wilfully to their home’s common name. Though in some ways imaginative, magmins don’t have even one creative bone in their bodies, preferring to simply play about in whatever they find lying around, be it a pool of lava, an obsidian overhang, or the melting wreckage of some failed prototype, thousands of years old, rather than make anything themselves.

For more mentally advanced elemental creatures, magmins are largely considered pests. Small enough to slip through most defences, magmins will mess about with anything they can get their little fiery hands in, scattering supplies, messing up machinery, and making off with valuables before losing interest and simply dumping them somewhere. Even killing a magmin is often a pain, not only does their igneous skin make them resilient to mundane weaponry, but if one is slain, the pressure and wild heat within causes it to explode in a shower of flaming rocks, leaving an aggravating mess, even if its surroundings are fireproof.

Most creatures on their native plane find magmins to be useless as labourers, soldiers, or even slaves. With their small, weak bodies, magmins struggle to do harm to anything that cannot be ignited, such as many of their fellow planar residents. In any case, magmins can rarely be compelled to intentionally harm others or do anything even slightly useful. Seeming to have almost no sense of self-preservation and a natural distain for following instructions, little short of magic can compel or threaten a magmin into doing another’s will.

Still greater elementals of flame do occasionally find use for the little magmins. Sometimes, efreet and salamanders keep magmins as jesters or pets, either in cages or given free reign of the less flammable parts of their compound, the wild antics of the magmins serving as entertainment. Sometimes, such an elemental ruler may scoop up an armful of magmins and toss them into a foreign plane, so as to sow fire and chaos in the wake of an invasion force.

Planar Pyromaniacs

Though native to the Elemental Planes, magmins do sometimes find their way onto the Material Plane. Normally, fissures between the Material Plane and the preferred domain of magmins happen in places where fire and other burning substances, such as in the craters of active volcanoes where they swim in the lava pools or amidst the conflagration of a massive forest fire. When magmins do appear in such places, they tend to make such natural events far worse, leaping across fire breaks to light previously protected trees or riding down the mountain slide on lava swells to find and burn anything and anyone who escaped their volcano’s wrath.

Other times, magmins often appear on the Material Plane thanks to the presence of a much more powerful monster of flame, such as a red dragon or clan of fire giants. Generally, these hosts are more tolerant of magmins than their fellow elementals; the minor annoyance they provide is an acceptable cost when one expects their intruders to have reason to fear a magmin’s conflagrating touch. Some such creatures even bring the magmins along with them when they go on the attack, using them as living siege ammunition, either loading the little daredevil into specially made catapults or simply dropping them on enemy fortifications from height. If a magmin dies on impact, she will detonate in a gout of flame; if she survives, she can go on to torch all she can get her hands on.

Though a magmin will delight in burning up all manner of objects, structures, and even living things, they are not actively malicious. Instead, a magmin is simply unhinged, unthinking, and utterly obsessed with flame. A magmin burns whatever looks most easy for her to set light to, being whatever is both flammable and close to hand, as well as lashing out at anyone who attacks her. Even if one can speak Ignan, the fiery dialect of Primordial, however, it is rarely worth trying to reason with a magmin, for magmins are seldom rational beings and tend to take offence to others making demands of them.

Perhaps the only common way to fully control magmins is to summon them with magic. Even then, however, most spellcasters conjure magmins only to engage in what they do best, setting fire to things, often in a combat environment. While a wizard could compel a magmin to do other things, they tend to be clumsy and slapdash in their work. A magmin tasked with fetching a scroll may well accidentally incinerate the parchment in the process, while a messy room “tidied” by a band of magmins will likely just have all the clutter on the floor either burnt away or hurriedly shoved into a single closet.

Sex and Sexuality Among Magmins

As with most elementals, magmins do not breed amongst each other and have basically no sexual instincts. Instead, new magmins appear unbidden, spontaneously coalescing from pools of lava and mounds of volcanic rock that make up the Fountains of Creation. Like many elementals, magmins don’t truly age, and can persist for centuries or even millennia until they are killed, their elemental power returning to the planes. Thanks to their eternal immaturity and disinterest in any form of self-improvement, however, there is practically no difference between a magmin older than creation and one that was born yesterday.

Like most forms of fire elementals, most mortal women have no interest in trying to find a sexual use for magmins, for largely obvious reasons. Yet, the threat of being burnt isn’t quite as great as one might imagine. Though formed of unfathomably hot magma on the inside, the magmin body is covered completely in thick, cooler stone. This means that, with due diligence, a moral can touch, hold, grope, and even fuck a magmin without injury. The protective stone even extends up into her vagina. Still, a magmin’s skin is liable to crack under certain stresses, shooting out flames in the process, particularly around the hands, back, and scalp. Thus, most women still choose not to press their luck.

Men to Magmins

If magmins can tell the difference between men and women, they do not seem to care. Like most all elementals, magmins are an all-female race with no personal sexual instincts that would lead them to find men attractive. On the other hand, however, magmins also don’t seem to view men with any particular scorn or ill intent, at least beyond the general desire to set them on fire that they feel for most non-elemental beings. Still, like most elementals, a man can compel a magmin to fuck him by summoning her or having a magically capable ally summon her.

Like women, some men initially hesitate to fuck a magmin, fearing the chance of being burnt. However, with her relatively safe-to-touch body, magmins are among the most safely fuckable fire elementals a male wizard or druid may be able to summon. Thus, some men who wish to fuck a being of elemental fire from bragging rights or something may pick a magmin. Still, it is generally advisable to attain magical protection from flame before fucking a magmin, in case of any unintended flaming spurts.

For the most part, impregnation of a magmin is not an easy mission. A man’s sperm is generally destroyed by her intense heat long before her rocky womb can accept it. However, magmins can be impregnated by men on rare occasions. Magmin pregnancies tend to be fairly dramatic. Since magmins don’t exactly grow once born, a pregnant magmin’s belly normally swells up to match or even exceed the mother’s size. Though made a little more flexible by her mother’s internal heat, the birth of a newborn magmin is a strenuous activity, as the mother pushes out a mass of living rock as large as she is. If a magmin is due to experience multiple births, it is not rare for the mother to simply not go through it, instead detonating when she is due to leave two or more magmins standing in the flames of her explosion.

Chapter 175: Manticore

A vicious, monstrous creature, a manticore strains the bounds of what it means to be a predator, overspilling into the realms of pure cruelty. A manticore’s body is reminiscent of that of a lion, though with hide as tough as boiled leather and claws like farmer’s sickles. From the monster’s shoulders emerge a pair of broad, batlike wings, able to carry it aloft and soar with agility unbecoming for its size. For prey that could possibly harm it, the manticore has a tail full of detachable spines, able to be flung with the accuracy and range of a longbow. Most disturbing of all, however, is the manticore’s head, reminiscent of a human's, save for its rows and rows of jagged iron teeth. A manticore can not only bite, however, but croon over humanoid victims, using a rudimentary version of the common tongue to mock them in their final moments.

Taste for Humanity

Normally living in mountains, swamps, or plains, manticores consider themselves predators to a great many creatures, including livestock, hippogriffs, and all manner of wild animals. To keep up with their appetites, manticores maintain territories, either alone or in small prides, and fight fiercely against other arial predators that try to invade, such as griffons, chimeras, perytons, and wyverns. With their prides and their great profusion of weaponry, a manticore will face a great many enemies in the sky, only showing true deference to adult dragons, whom they do their best to avoid.

Though willing to predate on nearly anything, the preferred prey of the manticore is humanoids, particularly humans. Unlike most predators, manticores have a basic intellect and self-awareness, making them able to tell when a creature they’re hunting has the awareness to fully comprehend its approaching demise. Unfortunately, manticores are naturally predisposed to the depths of malevolence, and they take great pleasure in prey that begs for mercy.

As for why manticores are interested in humans specifically, it is not for any particular flavour of their flesh, as many believe. The claws, fangs, and tail spines of a manticore are made largely of iron, giving the beast the power to pierce armour with the right purchase. However, this extreme armament comes at the cost of a severe iron deficiency. While manticores can mitigate this issue somewhat by eating shed tail spines, the issue is mostly solved by the manticore supplementing their diet with chunks of humanoid weapons and armour. Manticores tend to habitually pick on humans because humans tend to travel with more metal on their person than elves or halflings, while dwarves, who are doubtlessly heavily armed and armoured, spend less time on the surface where manticores can develop a taste for them.

This predatory attraction to humanity has not gone unnoticed by their would-be prey, however. The very hint of a manticore is normally grounds enough for a bounty to be put on the beast’s head; there are whole orders of human knights with winged mounts such as griffons, trained to hunt manticores for sport, and simply entering a human town with a manticore’s head in tow will likely have one celebrated as a hero, often coming with free room and board along with the implicit trust of the townsfolk. This self-wrought persecution often means that manticores make their lairs far from human civilisation, only charging back in to seize some prey and flee before a proper counterattack can be established.

Monstrous Artillery

Though not a glowing intellect by human standards, manticores can speak and communicate in Common or whatever language is prevalent in their territory when they feel like it. In combat, a manticore often derides and attempts to demoralise intelligent prey, opening them up to the final blow. Indeed, many are surprised and indeed unnerved by quite how chatty a manticore can be, especially when she is trying to flush out hiding prey. Though one shouldn’t count on it, manticores are sometimes known to parlay with their prey, though only when they have something to gain from not immediately consuming them, be it the promise of later food or the sick pleasure they get from forcing a group of friends or a community to choose one of their number to sacrifice for the group’s survival.

Manticores can also be persuaded to ally with other evil forces, bringing their power to bear in exchange for a consistent food supply. A manticore may carry an orc warchief or hobgoblin commander aloft over a battlefield, slinging spikes down upon the enemy while the leader bellows down commands from her elevated seat. Other times, more powerful creatures like giants or lamias may keep manticores as pets, either to join them on hunts or simply having them lair in portions of their strongholds that are in need of a guardian, letting the manticores feast on escaping prisoners or would be thieves on their way to the treasure vaults. As a great bonus compared to humanoid guards and other guard beasts like chimaeras and wyverns, manticores have no particular desire for material treasure, save the occasional mouthful of scrap iron, thus making them unlikely to try and claim what they’re guarding for themselves.

Though brutally efficient, manticores are not simple beasts that can be broken or tamed into service. Manticores poses an almost humanoid intelligence, and one marked by wickedness at that. A manticore serves a master because they offer her desirable prey, vulnerable humanoids in particular, and do not try to keep her from fulfilling her own evil desires. For a person callous enough to turn a blind eye to a manticore’s monstrous habits or sadistic enough to encourage them, a manticore can make a surprisingly staunch and loyal companion. However, a person who tries to force a manticore down the path of benevolence will have the beast turn on them in an instant.

Sex and Sexuality Among Manticores

Generally, the social makeup of manticore sexuality is centred around the structure of their pride. A manticore pride generally consists of one stronger alpha manticore who generally does not hunt for herself in order to save her energy and tail spines for threats, and a collection of manticores willing to hunt for and mate with her. Generally, manticores mate during the late autumn, with subordinate manticores going into heat whenever they have no cub to care for, the alpha taking upon herself to impregnate every receptive adult member of her pride and policing her mates for unfaithfulness ruthlessly. Sex between manticores tends to be a rough and unnerving experience as well as the clearest example that the humanity in a manticore’s voice is only superficial, both manticores creating a horrific array of incongruous sounds as they fuck, from childish laughter to sobs and bloodcurdling screams.

Once the alpha impregnates her subordinate, the pregnancy may only take up to four months. Manticores birth their cubs in their lairs, normally found in caves high up in mountains, largely inaccessible without wings. To begin with, manticore cubs are utterly helpless, flightless, and lacking any teeth, claws, or spines. For the first few months, their mothers feed them their breast milk to help them gain size. After about six or seven months, the cubs stop nursing and are fed small scraps of meat and metal so that they can develop their teeth and start eating from carcasses unaided. At a year old, manticores start gliding, and at two they can fly, developing their full complement of fangs and claws and regenerating tail spines at around the same time.

Becoming fully grown at around the age of three, adult manticores leave their birth family and must make a choice. The easiest option is to find another manticore pride and accept their alpha as her mate. However, a manticore stands to have more offspring and be more dominant if they manage to oust an alpha and become the head of her own pride. Generally, these two paths must be chosen between and cannot be taken sequentially. Manticores do not start experiencing periods of heat until after the first time they are impregnated, and it is thus a sign of past submission. Manticores that experience heat thus have a fearsome uphill battle to be accepted as an alpha.

Since the price for the protection and aid of a pride is acceptance of the alpha’s cubs, a manticore with ambitions to become an alpha herself must usually spend a while as a solitary manticore until she is strong and experienced enough to challenge an established alpha for her pride. Life as a solitary manticore is not an easy one; without allies, a manticore must hunt for herself and is more at risk from human reprisals, monstrous rivals, and other lone manticores who may try to get a head start on their own pride by forcibly impregnating her. However, desperation to make her claim too early can be disastrous. When the fight for leadership is over, losers who can’t escape are either forcibly impregnated by the victor or killed.

Men to Manticores

How a manticore responds to males is generally dependent on their reproductive lot in life. When it comes to solitary or alpha manticores, men are utterly despised, to the point where she will kill any male creature in preference even to humans. As beings capable of impregnating her, amongst most other things, alpha and solitary manticores see males as having the potential to deprive them of the social power they have or strive for. Established manticore alphas also have to worry about males potentially stealing mates out from under them or impregnating her females when she isn’t looking. Unlike many intelligent, man-hating beings, however, a man who successfully breeds a resisting manticore doesn’t have to worry about vengeance. Once a manticore gets pregnant, her ambitions of dominance are practically gone, and she has naught to do but submit to a mate. Still, a man shouldn’t put his guard down entirely. Manticores are pragmatic, and if a man shows no interest in being her lifelong mate or seems like he would be morally restrictive in such a role, she will endeavour to devour him and find another mate to submit herself to once his cubs are raised.

Manticores who are already willing to be bred by others, those that experience oestrus, are more willing to accept a male looking to mate with him, though only under certain conditions. In general, a manticore will only accept a male as a mate if he is particularly strong, at least strong enough to keep up to her in single combat. Secondly, a manticore will not accept a male that tries to stop her from committing evil deeds such as preying on intelligent life, preferring to kill or flee from such moralising men. Finally, a manticore prefers males who intend to keep mating her whenever she is in heat; while a manticore may let a male breed her behind her alpha’s back, she would usually prefer the male actively and permanently take the alpha’s place, possibly by breeding her into submission.

Thanks to these specifications, manticores generally end up with male monsters such as chimaeras, giants, and griffons rather than humanoid men. Generally, manticores expect male humanoids, particularly male humans, to be too weak and ethical to be anything but prey in their eyes. Some men, however, ruthless villains that rose to great prominence, have been able to dominate manticore prides, gaining them as war beasts for their terrible campaigns and mates for personal pleasure.

Manticores can too produce males of their own on occasion. With their inability to be impregnated and the inherent threat they show to female alphas, male manticores usually find independence thrust upon them relatively early and spend quite a while as solitary monsters, throwing themselves upon anything they can pin, raping and devouring in equal measure. If he grows strong enough, a male manticore will normally fight and claim his place as the alpha of a rather large manticore pack, finally granting him access to technically willing mates. With his ability to breed most things, a manticore male normally expands his pack to include mates of other species. Though male manticores normally see humanoid women as food and female monsters like chimaeras and griffons as mates, it is not unusual for the former to be given the latter classification every now and then, when the male is less hungry. Humanoid children of manticores are normally identified by small manticore like anomalies in their form, patches of feline fur, lithe yet powerful builds, and sharp iron teeth. Though not necessarily cruel, manticore-fathered individuals tend to develop a sense of personal structure, often categorising people into those distinctly superior to them and those distinctly inferior, normally based on strength.

Chapter 176: Medusa

The desire to persist is one that all mortal life feels to an extent—the wish to hold back the wheels of time and remain in perpetuity is no sin of itself. Some villains seek immortality through undeath, such as by becoming a lich. For others, however, an eternity as a half-mummified living corpse does not cut it; they want not only eternal life but eternal youth, beauty, and admiration, so that they may be looked upon and admired as one may admire a goddess in the flesh. The fulfilment of such narcissistic desires is available to those that know where to look, though normally the initial price involves committing unspeakable evils in the name of fiends, evil fey, and dark goddesses. For a time, the dark deals appear to pay off as the individual lives a long life of alure and acclaim. As the decades pass, however, a second price arrives. As nature recoils at the mortal’s vanity, it strikes back against them, and as their hair transforms into a coil of venomous serpents, the mortal’s monstrous dealings become obvious in their form. Though nature cannot rob the new medusa of their beauty or immortality, it can ensure that they will never be truly apricated again. To meet a medusa’s gaze is to invite a curse upon oneself, transfiguring all who would admire and all that would seek to slay them into statues dedicated to the monster's arrogance.

Stony Isolation

To look into a medusa’s eyes is to risk becoming stone; this fact is made prevalent enough by the lifelike statues that litter their home. With this knowledge, most sensible people steer well clear of places that medusa inhabit. Technically, a medusa can spare other petrification by keeping her eyes shut or obscuring their beautiful face with a veil, but few trust a medusa to be so merciful for long.

Still in possession of the immortality that got them cursed in the first place, a medusa can live until they are slain. However, the dreadful power of a medusa’s curse drives most to try and be rid of any medusa that shows themselves. Thus, medusas usually stick to the shadows, or else spend their lives languishing in whatever palace, temple, or stronghold they originally called home. As centuries of avoidance and disrepair pass, the medusa’s lair falls into ruin around her, even as she remains pristine.

Still in possession of a mortal mind, most medusa eventually go somewhat mad from the centuries of isolation, not that the sort of people willing to go ahead with the prerequisites to becoming a medusa tend to be all that sane to begin with. A particularly common form of madness for medusa is based on how they treat the statues around them. Most statues a medusa creates will usually be of random individuals, looters, and adventurers they petrified before they could learn much of them; such statues may be treated in the medusa’s imagination as guests, debutants, servants, and admirers.

Other statues, however, may be of individuals they knew well, people from before their curse took hold. Sometimes, these may be individuals that the medusa found useful or adored, either caught in their initial transformation or sought out for petrification, the medusa selfishly unable to let them age a day out of their influence. The medusa often continues to treat these statues as if they were still flesh and blood, doing her best to continue their everyday lives in her fantasy. If a medusa can bring themselves to admit their beloved victims are no longer as they once were, they normally keep the statue in pride of place in a shrine of sorts. In either case, a medusa is normally violently protective of such statues, even against attempts to cure their petrification.

Along with statues, medusas are also often obsessive collectors of items that enhance or display her beauty, such as expensive jewellery, fine clothing, and art that depicts them as they once were. This hoarding behaviour can sometimes draw the desperate or foolish to try and rob the ruins the medusa calls home. When an invader slips into their home, a medusa hides away, getting themselves into prime position before revealing their presence, forcing invaders to meet their petrifying gaze before they have time to avert their eyes. For those who manage to avoid petrification, the medusa closes in, easily avoiding blind strikes against them while their weapons and venomous hair make short work of those unable to see them coming.

One treasure that medusas do not collect are mirrors and other polished surfaces. For most creatures, a reflection in a mirror is one of the few ways to safely observe a medusa’s face. For the medusa themselves, however, the act of observing their own reflection briefly empowers their vanity and thus their curse, to the point where viewing their reflection, especially if it catches them off guard, can cause them to petrify themselves. To avoid such an ignoble end, a medusa meticulously destroys any and all reflective surfaces within their domain.

Faultless Narcissists

As poets and storytellers have proven time and time again, the beauty of a medusa makes them worryingly easy to forgive and pity in principle. Tales of an innocent soul seeking only to avoid the clutches of death and to become beautiful being cursed with an eternity of monstrous isolation tug at the heartstrings of the unaware and raise questions as to why the goddesses must be so cruel.

The truth is, however, that the medusa’s curse does not come for innocent souls. A simple desire to live long and be beautiful does not consign one to becoming a medusa. Not even boorish levels of self-obsession are offences that bring about the curse. Only those who perform actions that unequivocally prove they consider the suffering of many, many others may to be an acceptable price for their own vanity can bring about their transformation into a medusa. For all a medusa’s beauty, it is all bought by their own wilful performance of numerous unspeakable acts. When their monstrous nature is brought to the surface, few if any medusas see it as a sign to change their ways.

Unfortunately, being the biggest proponents of their own tragic fantasies, most medusas see themselves as a complete victim in the events that made them what they are. Regardless of all the horrific deeds they performed to gain eternal beauty, a medusa will never admit any wrongdoing or accept even the slightest possibility that they deserved any amount of punishment. This denial extends to all misdeeds, performed before or after her transformation.

When a medusa deigns to talk to someone, they will carefully avoid any mention of personal misdeed. If their misdeeds are mentioned, they will deny it flat out. If their denial is disproven or disbelieved, they will justify it, claiming their acts were perfectly reasonable and what any decent person would do in their position. If someone refuses to agree with the medusa’s justification, they simply must die; after all, they are clearly one of the many, many individuals so cruelly obsessed with making the medusa out to be anything but a perfectly innocent victim of fate, and in any case, statues and corpses are seldom given to disagreement.

Medusas also use similar justifications for other evil, selfish acts. In their own mind, a medusa does not simply want things, such as treasure, territory, and company; they deserve them for being such an innocent, long-suffering beauty that no just being would deny. When a medusa is vindictive or cruel, killing or petrifying someone, often a mortal beauty, out of jealousy, the victim’s fate is always deserved, in the medusa’s opinion, for how they wilfully tormented and mocked them.

Just as disagreeing with a medusa can be a short path to a quick death, feigning agreement with one can get a medusa to stay their hand for a while. Some medusas build cultlike followings of sycophants to do their bidding in this way, permitting them to live and have the curse’s power to use against their enemies so long as they continue to praise the medusa and do as they say. Even when one has enough of a spine to be unwilling to live their life in such a way, a little feigned support can help one to escape from a medusa or even to extract some information and favours. Of course, such a tactic is not perfectly safe. A medusa may react poorly to their flatterers trying to leave them and may decide that they are better kept as a statue than not at all.

Sex and Sexuality Among Medusas

Being created by mortals obsessed with personal beauty and external opinion, medusas more often than not retain some level of sexual interest. However, the very reasonable fear of being near a temperamental, self-centred creature able to turn one to stone with a glance means that few women are willing to become a medusa’s lover, not even other medusa, who tend to be unable to trust one another not to turn one another to stone.

Some medusas manage to find mortal sexual partners despite their disadvantage, either by drawing them into a cultlike obsession with them by their silver tongue or simply abducting them and keeping them prisoner in the ruin they call home. Such relationships seldom last long. Unless a medusa’s lover is perfectly compliant with her, she will eventually become frustrated enough by them to kill them or turn them to stone. Even the most agreeable, subservient partner, however, cannot keep themselves from getting older, and as signs of ageing show, the medusa’s desperation to keep their partner for their whole eternal life will lead her to turn them into an unageing statue.

If a medusa cannot find a mortal companion, she may have to settle for fucking creatures immune to her petrifying gaze, despite their less desirable forms, such as gargoyles, earth elementals, and golems, despite their less traditionally attractive form. Such underlings also have the benefit of usually being totally compliant to the medusa and often immortal, meaning that they will never disagree with her and will never try to leave her by dying of old age. Recognising these alternatives as less-than-ideal lovers, many medusas include lovers in their delusions. A medusa may speak at length about a wife or concubine, calling them by name and extoling their sexual talent to visitors, only for this sexual genius to be a nicknamed construct, a clumsy elemental, or even a complete fantasy, a name she cries out while touching herself.

No matter how often a medusa manages to fuck, it is rare for her to have children. Seemingly to spare innocent children from their parent’s curse, female medusa seem to be physically incapable of getting pregnant by other women, regardless of kind. Most medusa do not mourn this inability, being too self-centred to desire dependents. Sometimes, however, medusas get broody, leading them to treat dolls, small statues, or even kidnapped children as their own. These abductions rarely end well for anyone involved for similar reasons to why medusas struggle to keep mortal lovers—their complete inability to accept backtalk or disagreement.

Men to Medusas

The opinion medusas have of men varies wildly, largely based on the opinions she had before transforming. No matter the exact opinions, however, one can normally expect a medusa’s reaction to a man to be extreme and dangerous.

If a medusa dislikes men, her dislike will likely be blown up into a completely unstable self-righteous terror, with the medusa convincing herself that any man that comes anywhere close to her domain is clearly a completely unhinged rapist coming after her thanks to her acclaimed beauty and that she must destroy him for the sake of her own innocence and the wellbeing of women everywhere. Any woman that sides with him is clearly a mentally broken thrall who should be mercifully put down, and any attempt by the man to make her reconsider is clearly an attempt to shame her into fucking him that she will bravely overcome in order to end him.

On the other hand, a medusa who finds men attractive will be totally enamoured by any man that gets within range of notice, believing that either he came all the way to be her lover or that it was fate that they would meet so that he could fall in love with her and stay with her forever. Needless to say, medusas with such fantasies are not only willing but desperately eager to have a man fuck them. This cooperativeness, occasionally coupled with acts of submission and apparent love, doesn’t make a medusa any safer for a man to be around, however.

A medusa’s vision for how her relationship should go is utterly inflexible, even in the face of a man she claims to love. A medusa will brook no disagreement from a man in any matter and often is jealously protective of him, to the point of petrifying or killing any other woman he shows a hint of interest in. If a medusa cannot keep a man in line with her words, she will not hesitate to use violence, blaming him or other women all the while. Should a medusa feel her grip on a man slipping, she will usually sooner petrify or kill him before allowing him to go and be with other women.

Like women, many mortal men at least sometimes consider the possibility of living forever, though even villainous ones shy away from undeath thanks to the inherent infertility. Despite the appeal of that being a man alone nets one, many men also dream of being yet more attractive, so as to better persuade women into fucking them. As such, men whose desire for sex outstrips their morals can sometimes be drawn into the sorts of deals that may one day transform them into medusas. Immortal and retaining their mortal charm, male medusas are just as possessive and unquestionable as their female counterparts. The alure of being a man helping them overcome the frightful nature of their monstrous forms, male medusas often have cults surrounding them, a harem of sycophants who do exactly as he says and believe exactly what he tells them to believe. Often unwilling to let his prize lovers go, male medusas often keep a macabre gallery of lovers past, petrified just before they got too old for his tastes.

It seems that, likely from it coming from a higher power, the power of a man to impregnate anything is barely impeded by the infertility brought on by a medusa’s curse, be the medusa the woman getting pregnant or the man impregnating. Children born of or by a medusa are not medusa, the curse finding no vanity in a newborn to cling to. Instead, the child is born as if neither of its parents were cursed. If a medusa wants their child to survive, they must never lay eyes on it. Many medusas thus sneak their offspring onto temple doorsteps and the like. Though not a medusa, the child of a medusa often inherits some of its parent’s innate magic, often in the form of spells that restrict or reduce movement or an odd affinity for snakes.

Chapter 177: Mephits (Art)

When one thinks of the Elemental Planes, a layman may picture four distinct, separate worlds, each largely dominated by their singular element. In truth, however, the boundaries between the Elemental Planes are far from distinct. Where Elemental Planes meet, they merge to create Para-Elemental Planes, such as the Para-Elemental Plane of Magma between the Planes of Earth and Fire or the Para-Elemental Plane of Ice between the Planes of Water and Air. Beyond the reaches of the Elemental and Para-Elemental Planes, there writhes the Elemental Chaos, a practically endless sea of all four elements existing in a maelstrom where they merge, split, enhance, and annihilate each other. In such places of endless combinations, elementals can form consisting of multiple elements. These hybrid creations can be unpredictable engines of combined power and apocalyptic elemental destruction. Other times they are puny, vindictive little imp-like creatures known as mephits.

Mephits can come to be from the combination of any two elemental forces. Which elemental forces are combined tends to influence the nature and capabilities of the mephit created. The six most commonly found mephitis will each be described in their own chapters following. This chapter will focus on mephits as a whole.

Passable Minions

Though native to the Elemental Planes, particularly the Para-Elemental Planes and the Elemental Chaos, most people encounter mephits when they come to the Material Plane. Sometimes, mephits show up by themselves in places naturally a acclimatised to their elemental nature, steam mephits may pop out of geysers and dust out of abandoned crypts for example. Most of the time, however, mephits are summoned by wizards, druids, and other magic users in order to complete various tasks, ranging from housework, to attacking the spellcaster’s foes.

In brutally honest assessment, mephits are individually weak creatures, scrawny at barely four feet tall with skinny wings and quite fragile bodies as far as elementals go. Mentally, mephits are a little more intelligent than a normal elemental, able to converse and have relatively complex thoughts, but are mostly dullards by humanoid standards. They are also known for their unappealing personalities. Though complex enough to have quirks that vary between kinds and even individuals, most mephits are unpleasant to associate with. Left to her own devices, a mephit will almost always choose to bully, bicker, and generally cause inconveniences. Despite all these glaring flaws, many spellcasters still find mephits worth conjuring every now and then.

Though weak, the small amount of elemental power each mephit possesses makes them much easier to conjure compared to regular elementals, often to the point where four to eight of them can be conjured at a time. Often, where a single mephit would be an inconvenience, a swarm of them can be a formidable threat or a great boon to a task’s completion.

As for the mephit’s mental deficiencies, these may serve to a summoner’s advantage. With little brains and even less in the way of long-term goals, mephits tend to be direct and straightforward when given orders by a summoner. While most mephits are unequivocally evil, most are evil in and of themselves rather than in the name of some cosmic cause like fiends and many evil fey. A mephit thus doesn’t care about her summoner’s morality, or the implications of the actions she is commanded to do.

Just as a mephit would go along with the darkest deeds a villainous summoner may put them to, they also would show little more insubordination than some grumbling and insults while they work when tasked with aiding a virtuous conjurer in their heroic deeds. Though unpleasant, a mephit has simply no incentive to try and sway mortal souls or pervert their orders’ intentions, except in ways that make them less effort to complete.

Language Primordial

Mephits, as they exist today, trace their origins far back in time to before the dominion of the goddesses, when the primary forms of intelligent life were vastly powerful primordial beings. Living in a state of quasi-existence, these beings persisted by changing, bending, and altering the fundamental building blocks of reality. So early were these entities that they existed before the advent of communication. Yet still they found one another and wished to interact, mostly to compete, push around, and vie for territories of the infinite, unstable, nothingness.

It was thus that communication came to be, though not in a way that most beings alive today would recognise it. Instead of speaking or writing, the primordial entities did as they always had, bending and shaping raw matter into a variety of forms that could be sent off to a neighbour, not as messengers, but as the message in and of themselves. These living messages would go on to be known as mephits, with most gaining independence from their original speakers at the downfall of the primordials at the beginning of time.

The language spoken in mephits is a rare thing nowadays, with not even the mephits themselves knowing it, instead speaking dialects of the modern elemental language, known as Primordial, in accents as hybridised as their bodies. Most of the living beings who can speak fluently in mephits include the rulers among celestials and fiends, the most ancient of dragons, and the mightiest of archmagi. The number who still bother to use mephit language as anything beyond an academic curiosity is even smaller.

Mephits of different kinds can be strung together to create a nearly endless array of meanings, most of which have been lost to time. However, mephits aren’t entirely comparable to letters or words. Each individual kind of mephit can, in and of itself, reflect a complete and consistent message, with more mephits of the same kind intensifying that meaning. Where a single smoke mephit expresses contempt, two dozen is an outright declaration of war.

Thanks to the initial purpose of their creation, the nature of a mephit, even mephits that came into existence spontaneously after the fall of the primordials, reflects not only the elements that constitute them but the message they were made to represent. This is part of the reason why mephits are usually so disagreeable. With the original primordials being cold, selfish beings, few of the messages they sent to one another were all that pleasant, with the meaning of pretty much any individual kind of mephit boiling down to an insult or a threat.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mephits

Like most elementals, mephits are an all-female race who require no sexuality in order to exist. Without the primordials speaking them into existence, most mephits come into existence spontaneously, simply arising from the mixing energies of the Para-Elemental Planes and Elemental Chaos. Not subject to ageing, mephits can potentially live forever, or at least until something kills them or absorbs their elemental essence.

Though mephits don’t have any natural reason to have sex, they are also somewhat more mentally complex than the average elemental. Whether this is due to being made up of multiple elements or thanks to the influence of their original creators is hard to say for certain. Whatever the case, it allows mephits to have some consideration of their existence. Though deep philosophy and research are usually beyond the intellect and interest of a mephit, most are capable of at least some curiosity about the tits and vagina Nymphona’s rules of existence apply to them. As such, some mephits do discover and pursue sexual pleasure.

With little concept of personal decency, mephits tend to masturbate and fuck each other whenever the mood takes them. This can come as a rather unpleasant shock to novice conjurers who believed elementals to be entirely sexless. As such, a mage who doesn’t want her minions to engage in public indecency must keep a close eye on their mephits. Many mephits find the discomfort of mortals at their sexual antics to be quite entertaining, leading them to go at it even harder when permitted, along with engaging in acts like sexual pranks, catcalling, and sexual harassment. Most mephits shy away from rape for the simple reason that they are used to being the weakest creature around and not getting themselves into compromising positions where a quick getaway is a challenge.

The comparative sexual proficiency of mephits compared to other elementals, along with their ease of conjuration means that it is less unusual for them to be conjured for sexual reasons. Still, most female spellcasters consider sex with a mephit to be an act of lonely desperation. While mephits do not have to be micromanaged to fuck them as golems or plain elementals do, mephits are not all that creative in bed and are far from compassionate lovers, only interested in fucking for their own pleasure and often disparaging of their partner. Additionally, mephits are incapable of breeding with any for of female life, including each other, though prolonged exposure to mephits during pregnancy can cause some elemental alterations to the baby.

Men to Mephits

Opinions of men vary among mephits, between kinds, and between individuals. Few mephits are outright thrilled to meet a man; at most they may be mildly curious about his masculinity or occasionally aroused by the prospect of getting to fuck him. More often, the opinion of mephits on men are more neutral or unfavourable. However, in line with their lax moral attitudes, mephits are rarely outright terrified of or hateful to men specifically. A mephit may mock a man for his appearance and social separation from women, do their best to sexually tease him, or simply ignore his gender entirely and treat the encounter like business as usual. As such, when it is up to her to decide, it is normally a coin toss as to whether a mephit will agree to fuck a man, depending on whether her lust or her vindictiveness wins out.

In most situations where a mortal man is likely to encounter a mephit, however, the matter of fucking her comes down not to the elemental’s decision but her summoner’s. Of course, a man who invests time into learning simple conjuration or befriends someone with such capabilities can summon fourth a whole harem of mephits to fuck with a single spell. If summoned by somebody else, however, a mephit will not interact, let alone have sex with a man, unless given orders that can be interpreted as such.

With no strong personal convictions, even mephits who would otherwise be interested in fucking him will find no greif in trying to kill a man they are told to kill. For mephits, sex, even sex with a man, is merely a possibly fun activity to pass the time. Sometimes mephits will try to interpret their orders around a man as sexual so as to shirk their intended duties. For instance, a mephit ordered to see to the wellbeing of a summoner’s guests may try to spend all her time fucking a male guest to get out of laborious tasks like fetching things, tidying guest rooms, and keeping an eye out for intruders.

As elementals, mephits are not easy for humanoid men to impregnate, but it can be done. Pregnancies vary in length from months to years depending on the kind of mephit impregnated, but most mephits take pregnancy in stride, even as the unborn mephit inside of them grows to match them in size. With most mephits having a fairly fluid body, childbirth of such a big baby is rarely all that difficult. Once born, the new mephit is practically identical to its mother in apparent maturity and normally kind, though mephits may sometimes birth mephits a step or so away from them in elements depending on local factors; a pregnant mud mephit may birth a dust mephit in dry places or an ice mephit in places that are wet and cold, for example. Once they give birth to them, mephits have practically no maternal instincts, treating their daughter as they would practically any other mephit of their kind.

Notes:

Big thanks to Qcumber for the art in this series, find them here https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/20171489 is good.

Chapter 178: Dust Mephit

When the opposing forces of earth’s rigidity and air’s unfettered fluidity somehow meet and merge, dust is created, tiny disparate fragments of earth, blown asunder on the wind, often into the form of a mephit. With no true overlap between the Elemental Planes of Air and Earth, most dust mephits come to be in the churning Elemental Chaos, or else in those few places air and earth do intrude upon each other, on rocky islands sent hurtling through the endless sky and in air pockets that occasionally seed the solid earth. Since both these places serve as the most tolerable locations for visiting Material Plane dwellers, dust mephits often appear far more plentiful than they actually are. Dust mephits also inflate their perceived frequency by their attraction to mortals, particularly their culture, for nobody more perfectly represents than a mortal that nothing truly lasts forever.

Looming Threats

Formed of air and earth, dust mephits represent an eternal conflict between two opposing elements. However, the battle between earth and air is not a swift, violent one, a flash in the pan like that between water and flame, where one is extinguished or evaporated in a matter of moments. Instead, the conflict is a slow, grinding one, measured in centuries, almost undetectable to mortal eyes; the winds wear down a mountain, and shifting tectonics gradually squeeze the air out of a tunnel. This fearsome but almost invisible conflict seems to have inspired the ancient primordials when they started to speak in dust mephits.

When sent by herself, a dust mephit is, in essence, a subtle threat. The reception of a dust mephit signals to the recipient to cease their current course of activity against the sender, normally an assassination plot or the raising of an army against them. A dust mephit doesn’t in and of herself suggest any immediate retribution, but it tells the receiver that their would be victim is aware of their scheme and is ready to put a stop to it in any way necessary.

The more dust mephits a plotter receives, the more seriously their plot is considered and the greater the retribution they can expect to receive. Any more than four dust mephits can usually be considered a death threat that will be acted upon unless the recipient immediately flees or pleads for forgiveness. If this amount is doubled, the recipient is normally beyond the point of forgiveness and all the dust may even prove to be cover for an assassin.

Grave Fascination

With a subtle suggestion of death within their natural message, dust mephits usually feel a macabre fascination with phenomena. When something seems on the verge of destruction, flocks of dust mephits often follow it like vultures, though with an interest in seeing the creature’s demise rather than eating them. Dust mephits are also known to give intentionally bad advice to planar travellers hoping to get them killed for their entertainment. Some dust mephits are even known to follow around extraplanar assassins and warriors, acting as their scouts and servants in exchange for getting to watch them kill.

Despite this, dust mephits are rarely actively murderous of their own accord. The death threat within them is only the merest suggestion, and they are born to witness its fulfilment, not bring it about themselves. When threatened with violence or threats, dust mephits usually prefer to either blind their foes with their dusty breath or use the subtle death within them to magically put their assailants to sleep before escaping, only lashing out with their claws when cornered or commanded to.

Being so fascinated with death in all its forms, dust mephits are especially fond of mortals for their frequent death, and will actively seek out portals or conjuration to the Material Plane. With the exception of dust removal, dust mephits can perform most menial tasks with acceptable efficiency, making them popular servants for many conjurers. However, dust mephits prefer to be stationed around places like old battle fields, tombs, and the sites of old disasters and will congregate in such places when they arrive on the Material Plane of their own accord.

Dust mephit infestations can be a mixed bag, though they are generally more annoying than harmful. Dust mephits generally only mock and pester visitors to their deathly homes rather than attack. Sometimes, a dust mephit may lash out at an explorer with a flaming torch, since flames can detonate their scattered, air-filled bodies. A dust mephit may also lay claim to various treasures the dead were buried or fell with, hiding them away from their rightful inheritors or individuals with genuine need for them, though mephits just as often become attached to bones or useless rusted trinkets.

Dust mephits can sometimes even be a boon to adventurers. Spending so long in deadly places, dust mephits often become knowledgeable of the various traps, monsters, and other hazards of their homes. Thus, it may sometimes pay to take on a dust mephit as a guide. A dust mephit’s guidance should not be taken at face value, however, for a dust mephit may try to lead an explorer to their death if not offered compensation greater than the sick entertainment inherent in doing so. Money is often of limited use to a dust mephit, but they will quite happily accept artefacts related to death, access to sealed-off parts of their tomb, or the promise to deal with a particularly dangerous or annoying resident of the dungeon.

Sex and Sexuality Among Dust Mephits

Many creatures fascinated with death, such as deathly cultists and the undead are distinctly non-sexual beings, their association with life’s cessation making the act that creates it inconsiderable or even repulsive to it. Dust mephits are, however, an exception. Though morbidly entertained by death and the dead, this attraction comes with no particular hatred of the living. So long as a living thing doesn’t threaten them, a dust mephit is normally happy enough to see them inconvenienced and frustrated rather than destroyed, with witnessing their demise being a pleasant treat rather than an ultimate goal.

As elementals, dust mephits also don’t associate sex with life all that strongly, so even if some dust mephits become notably anti-life, this may not turn them off from fucking each other. As a result, a number of dust mephits are sexually active with each other. Lacking any sort of shame around the activity, dust mephits can be found fucking each other in all manner of places and situations that most mortals would consider highly inappropriate, such as in the midst of a battle or among the tombs of the hallowed dead.

Among mephits, dust mephits are also among the least unpleasant for women to fuck. With a neutral temperature and a fairly tidy substrate forming their body, sex with a dust mephit is rarely injurious and rarely makes much of a mess. Still, few women go looking to fuck a dust mephit, and conjuring a mephit of any kind for sexual purpose normally implies a level of desperation and social ineptitude on the summoner’s part. Knowing this implication well, dust mephits often take the time to mock their summoner even as they fuck her.

Men to Dust Mephits

With their greater interest in mortals compared to other mephits, most dust mephits have some opinion on men one way or the other. For most dust mephits, the rarity of men makes them a minor curiosity. However, unlike most creatures that express intrigue in men, a dust mephit would usually be just as interested to see a man die horribly as live his everyday life. Indeed, many dust mephits may find the former option the more preferable of the two, though rarely to the extent that they will actively set upon a man with murderous intent. Most dust mephits would simply find a man’s death to be a special and elucidating occasion.

Beyond simply seeing a man die, most dust mephits would be fascinated to find and move into a man’s resting place. Of all creatures with goals of finding such a locale, dust mephits may be some of the most inoffensive in their desires regarding it, merely wanting to revel in the presence of such a rare death. Many men do not have the privilege of marked resting places due to their dangerous lives as adventurers. Thanks to the selfish and often necromantic designs many some less savoury people may have on a male corpse, those men fortunate enough to have a proper burial are normally interred in hidden places or in tombs with fortress like security. As such, a dust mephit offered the chance to find such a resting place to reside in and the secrets of getting in there will offer a great deal of assistance for it.

When it comes to living men, however, dust mephits vary. Some may have a complete disinterest in men. Others can be completely obsessed with male visitors, trying to draw them into fucking them through base, unrefined seduction, often bluntly offering sex while calling themselves by debased terms if the think the man will understand their primordial language. Some dust mephits have even been known to barter sexual services, either offering favours to have a man fuck her, or feigning disinterest in the hopes that a man will do favours for her in order to fuck.

If a man’s sperm can react with the elemental energy within a dust mephit before getting cast out of her spiralling dust devil of a womb, he may beat the odds and impregnate her. The pregnancy of a dust mephit is a highly unusual combination of an air and an earth elemental’s pregnancies. While the air that swirls around a dust mephit’s body can be condensed to the minute yet still solid earthy motes of dust cannot be. As such, while the unborn dust mephit grows to match her mother in mass, it begins to resemble an infantile statuette of porous sandstone. Once the child is birthed, however, usually after a pregnancy of just under two and a half years, the pressurised air expands, blowing the stony infant into a full-sized mephit of swirling dust.

Chapter 179: Ice Mephit

Along the seam where the Elemental Planes of Air and Water meet, the rushing air robs the water of its heat. Great icebergs fill the Plane of Water’s airward edge, while the Plane of Air becomes choked in a blizzard of dancing snowflakes on its water-touching side. Between the two planes is an unfathomably huge planar glacier, known as the Frostfell or, more technically, as the Para-Elemental Plane of Ice. Though not inherently hostile in the way the Lower Planes are, the bitter cold of the Frostfell makes it an unwelcoming home for most, leaving only the coldest elementals to roam it, namely the ice mephits. Glad of the isolation their plane and the colder pockets of the Elemental Chaos grant them, Ice Mephits are poor hosts for visitors to their homes and make for arguably worse guests when they show up in other frigid locales.

Frosty Interlopers

Like a grotesque ice sculpture come to life, an ice mephit is cold all the way to her core, to the point where she can simply curl up or press herself to a glacier and become utterly indistinguishable from an ordinary shard of ice. Being made of the stuff, ice mephits have absolutely no trouble surviving and even thriving in icy conditions. Even ice-based offensive spells are usually more pleasant than harmful to them. Though most prevalent in and around the Frostfell, ice mephitis can find their way through rifts to other frozen locales, be it in other extraplanar spaces, such as Cania and Stygia in the Nine Hells, or simply the colder parts of the Material Plane, such as tundra fields and mountain tops.

Unlike normal ice, however, ice mephits don’t require constant freezing temperatures to maintain their cohesion. Though they do find external cold pleasant, ice mephits also generate their own cold naturally. This not only keeps an ice mephit’s body solid, but it also can be applied to other things. A touch from an ice mephit’s razor-sharp claws or a forceful exhalation can cause water or a victim’s blood to gradually freeze. With a little more focus, an ice mephit can cause water in the air to condense, turning it into a cloud of cool, opaque mist, granting the mephit cover to escape or get the drop on her foes.

While an ice mephit can generally keep herself frozen in more temperate climes, more extreme heat may begin to overwhelm her natural cold, and flame can gravely injure or even destroy her. Understandably, this weakness generates a great deal of hatred for warmth and fire amongst ice mephits. When acting of their own accord, ice mephits will go out of their way to eliminate anything warm that they can see, extinguishing fires with their frigid breath and shredding winter clothes in their claws, not caring in the slightest if they were all that was keeping a band of mortal travellers alive.

This love of cold and hatred of heat also makes mephits much more compliant to individuals with a frigid association. Ice mephits often follow frost giants and white dragons like carrion crows, revelling and helping to spread the cold the powerful beings generate. Ice mephits also sometimes act as the intermediaries between powerful beings of ice, such as winter fey and goddesses of the cold, and their mortal servants. Ice mephits will sometimes make stranger alliances if the ultimate goal brings cold. For instance, a vampire plotting to blot out the sun in her domain can likely count on the assistance of ice mephits for the cold her plan would inevitably bring about.

Cold Shoulder

Since time immemorial, ice has been an inhospitable combination of elements for most mortals. For a band of would-be settlers, the sight of an ice-rimed wasteland was a clear sign that their search for a habitable home was far from over. In addition, all but the greenest travellers know that winter is no time for travel. For most beings, apart from those most closely associated with the cold, the coming of the first snow signals the end of all associations over distance, be it trade, communication, or warfare. To an extent, it seems that these connotations may have been recognised by the ancient primordials too.

In the language of primordials, spoken in mephits, an ice mephit can be translated most simply as “stay away from me.” When an ice mephit was received, it meant that the recipient was no longer welcome in the sender’s domain, be that a specific stronghold, a realm, or simply their presence. Ice mephits are seldom sent from a position of fear; such a cowardly plea would likely draw in enemies to finish the sender while they were vulnerable; instead, an ice mephit’s message is one of annoyance and distain, a statement that the sender can’t even be bothered to destroy the recipient and simply wants them gone. The more ice mephits arrive with the message, the wider an area the sender is baring the recipient from and the harsher the consequences if they disobey the order.

Fitting their intended meaning, ice mephits despise the presence of most creatures other than themselves, tolerating one another because more ice mephits clarifies their hatred. Of all mephits, ice mephits are the most likely to simply attack others without provocation of their own will, though they will only strike if they feel they aren’t outnumbered or outgunned. When a direct assault on intruders looks to be suicide, ice mephits settle for insults and harassment from a safe distance, fleeing under the cover of chilling fog should their targets respond with violence.

Beyond simple misanthropy, ice mephits are also one of the most inarguably black-hearted mephits to exist. Actively enjoying the suffering of others, ice mephits will hurt and pick on anyone they think they can get away with harming. Ice mephitis even go looking for such victims, especially enjoying the chance to sabotage mortal protections against the cold in the hopes that they will freeze to death, even when doing so offers no benefit to the mephits beyond entertainment.

When an ice mephit works with other creatures without magical compulsion, it is normally because they have been intimidated into compliance or because their master has offered them more chances to bully and be cruel than they could ever attain for themselves. Able to stick around like icicles without food or rest, ice mephits make excellent watchwomen, able to spot unfamiliar visitors in the snow, slow them down, and call in stronger troops to tear the intruders apart while the mephit watches and assists from the sidelines. Ice mephits also excel at watching over prisoners as well, the vulnerable unarmed individuals being a pleasure for the elementals to torment.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ice Mephits

Though they tolerate one another’s presence and will work together to attack or harass others, ice mephits seldom like each other and will quickly bicker with and insult each other if there is no other target around. Ice mephits also generally do not like to be touched, especially by warm-blooded mortals but also by each other. This extreme isolationism means that very, very few ice mephits willingly engage in sexual activity.

When it comes to other female creatures, such as mortal summoners, it is rare that an ice mephit needs to worry about them seeking sexual services from her. Thanks to her composition, an ice mephit’s body is generally hard, jagged, and cold. As a result, most women assume that fucking an ice mephit would be an unpleasant experience. This assumption is mostly correct; though there are some individuals who find a unique pleasure in bringing ice into the bedroom, it is still usually better to have the ice in an inert form than in the form of a misanthropic imp, especially with most spellcasters able to summon mephits also having the power to freeze ordinary water if they so desire.

Many beings that ice mephits willingly hang around are naturally resistant or even immune to the cold; after all, it is their icy nature along with their wickedness that has the mephits tolerate them. As such, an ice mephit’s bodily makeup may be insufficient to turn these creatures away should they become horny. To avoid getting raped by their mistress, an ice mephit endeavours to make herself as unappealing as possible through their pathetic stature and grating personality, features that an ice mephit has in spades. How effective this deterrence is varies with the sort of creature she is dealing with, but if these attempts fall through, an ice mephit usually decides that it is better to be fucked than destroyed.

Men to Ice Mephits

Being almost entirely repulsed by sex and hateful of others, most ice mephitis hold a special hatred in their hearts for men. Not only are men constantly sexually active, but it is almost impossible to deter a man from feeling sexual attraction. While some men, particularly more decent men, are willing to not force themselves on an ice mephit whose done nothing wrong and shows a distinct distain for fucking them, this doesn’t stop the man from considering them attractive. Painfully aware of this, every longing glance from a man directly goes against the message of banishment instilled into an ice mephit’s freezing core, driving her to rage.

Though infuriated by men and their very existence, few ice mephits will dive into a fruitless assault against a man of their own will unless there is a reasonable chance of them defeating him rather than getting fucked or destroyed themselves. Knowing that most men are experienced combatants, ice mephits tend to only strike against them in large flocks or when they have some other advantage, like more powerful allies to call on.

When lacking the numbers or confidence to assault a man directly, an ice mephit generally aims to jeer and inconvenience a man into leaving or taking rash, self-destructive actions. These acts can range from simple mockery to more direct actions like theft, vandalism of his equipment, or attracting more dangerous monsters to assault him. In the rare event where man and mephit share a language, an ice mephit can take the opportunity to try and absolutely devastate a man’s confidence, often targeting specific troubles she’s witnessed or prodding at sore spots many men share. The sense of otherness they feel in a largely female world, the fear and disgust some women feel in a man’s presence, and the inability to truly find a permanent place for oneself are all lines of mockery that can make a man miserable or enraged.

If a man manages to get his hands on an ice mephit and fuck her, chances are that his sperm will freeze long before it can successfully impregnate the largely inert elemental matter. If, against the odds, an ice mephit does get pregnant, her pregnancy is often among the most inconvenient among mephitis. Despite the elements that form it, ice is one of the most solid combined elements from which mephits can form, being almost completely incompressible and totally lacking in fluidity. As such, though only about as long as a human pregnancy, an ice mephit’s pregnancy involves growing another mephit, identical to her in size, inside her womb, that must be birthed out as a single solid mass. Adding literal insult to injury, an ice mephit born of another usually starts her life out by mocking her mother for getting impregnated with her.

Chapter 180: Magma Mephit

Where they meet, the extreme heat of elemental fire can melt even the rigid solidity of elemental earth. The resulting magma pockets stud the Elemental Chaos with dim, burning lights, like volcanoes cut from their terrain. The true home of lava, however, is the seam-like Para-Elemental Plane between the Elemental Planes of Fire and Earth. Technically called the Para-Elemental Plane of Magma, this border region gains its more common name, the Fountains of Creation, from the shear wealth of metallurgic wonders that arise from the merger of a forge's heat and mineral riches meeting there. The plane attracts many smiths and other craftspeople but also spawns the much less labour-orientated beings known as magma mephits. Satisfied to simply linger, without the interest or brains to be creative themselves, magma mephits have done almost nothing of note of their own accord in the millennia of their existence.

Gloating Gifts

In the ancient conflicts in times before times, the great and terrible primordials strove for more than just overwhelming strength to overcome their enemies. They too saw the value of intellect and cunning. As such, many primordials sought to prove their superiority in these areas too. As well as implementing tactics both genius and underhanded in their endless wars, primordials would also engage fellows in “friendly” contests of intelligence and skill. For a primordial, however, simple victory in these endeavours was seldom enough; they needed their foe to squirm in their failure. It was thus that the first magma mephits were spoken into existence.

In the language once spoken by the primordials, a magma mephit signals that the sender has bested the recipient in some task of wits or talent. While anger is often the desired response of such a message, it is rare that a lone magma mephit is meant to provoke the receiver into acting on it. After all, most of the time a magma mephit is sent in the wake of a contest that very much proves its message true, be it a pre-arranged contest or a military defeat brought about by superior enemy tactics. Often the aim seems to be to humiliate the target into submission, encouraging them to comply with the sender’s demands or take steps to avoid provoking their attention again lest they be outsmarted in yet more embarrassing ways, often accompanied with larger and larger swarms of magma mephits to drive the point home.

Unlike many mephits, the shared personality traits of magma mephits seem not to reflect the attitudes of their sender but instead aim to be a caricature of the sender’s estimation of their recipient. A mephit is seldom an intelligent or talented creature, yet, by comparison to other kinds, the average magma mephit stands in a field of her own in terms of cluelessness and stupidity.

In terms of comprehension, magma mephits often take several moments to notice when something is amiss. In conversation, even the primordial language they speak, a magma mephit will likely stare dumbly at the individual for a solid minute, parsing what’s being said to her and formulating a response, just to blurt out a usually unhelpful answer of a few words. Magma mephits also forget the details of all but the simplest instructions in a matter of minutes, simply guessing at the steps they’re hazy on or skipping them entirely. Worst of all, a magma mephit refuses to educate herself for the simple reason that, due to her intended message, she believes that anyone she’s talking to is a talentless fool. No matter what sage or visionary is put before her, a magma mephit will always believe that she is the smartest being in the room, and any action another takes that she wouldn’t have is clear evidence that they are nothing more than a simpering idiot.

If one were to insult a magma mephit in a creative enough way, it could take minutes or even hours for her to realise she has been insulted. To avoid being tricked like this, most magma mephits have short tempers and a tendency to assume most things they don’t understand to be insults directed at them. Unfortunately, due to their small-mindedness, most things happen to be outside the envelope of a magma mephit’s understanding. When a magma mephit feels wronged, she lashes out with burning claws and fiery breath, as long as she thinks she can beat it in a fight.

Magma mephits generally assume they can win out against anything smaller than the combined mass of their flock that doesn’t demonstrate a clear immunity to flame. Magma mephits thus make decent thugs, throwing themselves at an opponent, even those that clearly outmatch them, with stupidity fuelled fearlessness once whipped into a frenzy and pointed their way. This control of magma mephits is easiest for intelligent, fireproof beings, such as red dragons, efreet, and devils.

Volcanic Layabouts

As well as the Fountains of Creation and the Elemental Chaos, magma mephits are also found in most locations where molten rock can occur. As such, adventurers that dare traverse volcanic mountains, lava-filled chambers, and geothermal vents are likely to run into at least a few magma mephits. Sometimes less natural sources of heat may attract magma mephits too, like great forges and the ruins of enormous conflagrations. Perhaps due to how inhospitably dangerous the preferred realms of the magma mephits are, the rare visit by a mortal is often a mildly interesting sight to them, sometimes drawing them into visibility compared to their usual state, nearly indistinguishable from lava as they wade and swim through it.

Aside from watching and perhaps making inane comments among themselves, magma mephits seldom do much to passersby unless commanded to or provoked. Though naturally selfish and mean, most magma mephits are inherently lazy creatures. Unlike other lazy beings, a magma mephit’s elemental nature means that it doesn’t even need to put in effort to find food, drink, or even air. With the freedom to spend virtually their entire lives in idleness, most magma mephits do so. As with most traits they don’t possess, a magma mephit normally considers traits like dedication, a drive to work, and ambition as signs of mental deficiency in other creatures, thus earning her mockery.

Though they’d prefer not to work, magma mephits can be driven to carry out tasks through magical compulsion, threat of destruction, or sufficiently aggravating nagging. Generally, however, a magma mephit’s loyalty only lasts as long as they remain supervised. For all their unintelligence, magma mephits are geniuses when it comes to cutting corners and avoiding work when they think they can get away with it. Any job short of incinerating something or mobbing an opponent will normally be done shoddily and with several glaring problems left behind. The mephits themselves seldom care about the result, however, for if getting a magma mephit to do as one says is hard, getting her invested in a cause is borderline impossible.

Sex and Sexuality Among Magma Mephits

On the whole, magma mephits do appreciate the presence of others of their kind. With the same workshy attitudes and inane conversational matters, magma mephits see each other as intellectual equals worthy of respect. Magma mephits tend to spend time lounging and paddling in the lava with their contemporaries, occasionally swapping mundane observations. For all this closeness, however, sex is not a common activity among magma mephits.

The magma mephit’s lack of sexual activity is not so much due to any revulsion surrounding sex, but ignorance. Lacking even the most basic twinges of curiosity about even their own bodies, a magma mephit can lounge around for millennia without ever figuring out that touching their tits and pussies feels good. Once a magma mephit learns about the pleasures of sex, the knowledge can spread through the flock like wildfire, the ease of pleasure making them all sex obsessed whores, fucking each other near constantly. The occurrence of such monumental discoveries is rare, however, so the numbers of sexually active magma mephits are still proportionally low.

Typically, the inspiration to seek pleasure through sexual activity must come from without, though this is a rare occurrence in and of itself. In the Elemental Planes, there are relatively few sexually active creatures for a magma mephit to imitate. When magma mephits come to the Material Plane, the sort of places they prefer to inhabit tend to be hostile to native life, not the sort of places they will linger to mate. If a magma mephit is summoned, it is seldom for sexual purposes.

Of all mephits, a magma mephit may be the least suitable for the purposes of pleasuring a mortal summoner. Dumb and uncreative, a magma mephit would need intensive instruction to perform any but the most basic of sexual acts, almost requiring as much micromanaging as a normal elemental. More glaringly, of course, is the issue of a magma mephit being made entirely of burning hot magma. As one can imagine, this makes sex with a magma mephit not only inconvenient but also hazardous to most mortals’ health.

Men to Magma Mephits

Like most women, men must approach the puzzle of fucking a magma mephit with caution. Most of the time, a magma mephit has no particular qualms about men; often she might not even understand what a man is. However, if one can get the idea of what a man is and the concept of having sex with a man across, she will normally want in, being encouraged by the prospect of easily attained pleasure.

Men are, thanks to Nymphona’s power, somewhat protected if they decide to fuck creatures of flame like a magma mephit. Since men are intended to fuck whatever they please, Nymphona’s blessing does make it safe for a man to ram his cock into a mephit’s magmatic pussy. However, this protection does not extend beyond this specific interaction, and any other part of a magma mephit’s body, such as her breasts, mouth, hands, and thighs, can burn a man as normal. As such, unless a man is capable of being incredibly careful, it is normally wise to invest in some level of magical fire protection before fucking a magma mephit.

In most cases, the sperm of a man that cums inside a magma mephit is burnt away before it can do anything. However, in some rare circumstances, the magma mephit can get pregnant. A magma mephit’s pregnancy takes about three years and bothers her very little so long as she is allowed to live her usual laid-back life. Though a magma mephit must develop an amount of lava equal to her whole body inside her womb, its liquid nature lets her compact it down into a somewhat more manageable sphere. When the time for birth comes, the magma simply flows out of the mephit’s pussy and takes the form of a mephit itself. Often the magma mephit fails to recognise the pregnancy and birth as related to the man who fucked her three years before.

Chapter 181: Mud Mephit

When water flows into the solid edifice of earth, it is absorbed, percolating into the solid mass. Eventually, as the quantities equal out, the combined substance becomes a half-fluid morass, mud. Though filthy and cloying, this substrate also offers the very foundation for life to emerge. Though this happens wherever earth and water meet, including in the Elemental Chaos, the largest example of this happening is the boundary between the Elemental Planes of Earth and Water. Known to planar scholars as the Para-Elemental Plane of Ooze, travellers of the planes prefer to call it by the far more descriptive name, the Swamp of Oblivion. A bottomless pit of slime, quicksand, and muck, life and death alike occur in abundance on the plane, mostly spawned from errant seeds and insects that made their way along with travellers. The closest thing to truly native life in the Swamp of Oblivion may be the mephits of its element, the mud mephits, who turn parts of the plane into nests of brigands and insufferable pests.

Sticky Fingers

One of the many known qualities of the Swamp of Oblivion is its ability to seize onto objects and hold them from the rest of reality. It is said that if anything sinks into the infinitely deep mire of the Para-Elemental Plane of Ooze, it is effectively lost to all reality for at least a century. In a much smaller way, mud mephits share their plane’s avaricious qualities.

Be it gold, curios, works of art, or the like, once a mud mephit catches a glimpse of something unusual, she will do all in her very limited power to get her grubby little hands on it. Though lacking the intelligence and subtlety for complex heists, a mud mephit will engage in theft without a second thought. If the current owner seems vulnerable enough, a gang of mud mephitis will simply waylay them, beating them up with their damp earthen fists and making off with their treasure. If a direct assault seems likely to end in her demise, a mud mephit can employ some stealth, swimming unseen through mud and murky water in order to tail a mark and pinch the desired trinket when their guard is down.

If all else fails, however, a mud mephit may simply come out and ask for what they want. If this request is refused and the mud mephit is sure she can’t beat the owner up for their possessions, she will continue asking while simultaneously whining about the unfairness of a stranger not folding to her every passing whim, hoping to annoy the person into paying her to leave, the threat of bodily harm only making most mud mephits flee temporarily. Though slower than the average mephit, a fleeing mud mephit trusts in her ability to fly and swim around muck that perusers must wade through, and if pushed, she can hawk up a stream of viscous mud that holds a victim in place.

Between the extremes of slaying a mud mephit, putting up with her pestering, and giving in to her demands, there are many services a mud mephit may begrudgingly perform with the promise of reward. Though having to work for their pay may make a mud mephit grumble and complain ceaselessly, they can make effective spies, assistants, and brawlers, if compensated, as long as a would-be employer can put up with the whining, keep an eye out for them pocketing things they shouldn’t, and tolerate a muddy mess wherever they go.

For all their materialistic greed, mud mephits are no more economically minded than any other mephits. Once a mephit finds something she likes, she will put it somewhere safe, such as in a crack in a rock, in a rotted tree hole, or even within her own unsolid body. To a mud mephit, the prospect of giving even a single copper piece of hers away for something she wants is absurd. Caring for the act of possession more than the item’s worth, a mud mephit values every treasure equally. With this balanced view, much of a mephit’s possessions tend to be near worthless. However, with how many relics find their way into the muck of the Swamp of Oblivion, an adventurer who slays a mud mephit or searches their jealously guarded stash may find a surprise.

Aggravation Incarnate

When it comes to the ancient language of mephits, few mephits have particularly nice intended meanings. This comes from its original speakers, the primordials. These ineffably powerful beings were not entities of love and kindness but coldness and self-centred misanthropy. As such, the most common messages they felt the need to send each other were threats and insults. As far as the latter category is concerned, mud mephits exist as insults in their purest form.

Often sent in reply to something, be it a threat, jeer, or even an offer of cooperation, a mud mephit loosely means “You are too weak to be worth my time; I think nothing of you, and I have no interest in what you have to say.” Of course, the reception of a mud mephit is a humiliating event for beings that speak through them, meant to prompt anger and a desperate urge to save face. As the number of mud mephits grows, the estimation the sender holds the recipient in plumets, to the point where a large flock of mud mephits may be a ruse to prompt an underprepared adversary to act without thinking.

Suiting their insulting intent, mud mephits seem to aggravate most creatures by their very existence. Thoughtless and self-centred, an uncomanded mud mephit does as she pleases with no thought for anyone else. Where she walks or flies, mud drips from her wings and feet, getting tracked onto the floor. When something catches a mud mephit’s short attention span, she simply must touch it, leading not only to the item’s soiling but also often its theft or damage as she tinkers with it. A mud mephit simply cannot leave a leaver unpulled, a trap unsprung, or a dangerous artefact untouched.

Perhaps most annoying, however, is a mud mephit’s general attitude. On the one hand, mud mephits crave attention; when anyone is nearby, they will attempt to engage them in inane drivel about themselves and their lives; if they get ignored, they will begin to act out, with vandalism, reckless endangerment of others, and endless crowing about themselves. Mud mephits are also constantly dissatisfied and live to make it other people’s problem.

Once attention is attained, a mud mephit will use it to drone, whine, and grumble constantly. Even in ideal conditions, a mud mephit will always take the time to find fault. This infuriating personality only gets worse when a mud mephit is in a flock of her kind, as she often is, the multiple mephits all vying with each other for attention, squabbling in a cacophony of complaints none of them will take the time to solve, instead demanding that others solve their never-ending list of trivial gripes for them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mud Mephits

With soft, squishy bodies and a tolerable body temperature, mud mephits make passable lovers for spellcasters willing to conjure sexual companionship. Sex even gives mud mephits the attention they so desperately crave, making them into often eager participants in such debauchery. Indeed, some argue that the only drawbacks to fucking a mud mephit is the shame many women feel in having to summon their own sexual partners and the inherent mess that comes with fucking a sentient mass of wet mud. Though individuals of a certain persuasion prefer to their sex to be messy, it is generally advisable not to conjure one’s mud mephit sex doll on new sheets and to bathe oneself thoroughly afterwards.

Thanks to the comparative popularity of fucking mud mephits, mud mephits have spread their sexual knowledge widely among their population, to the point where they are arguably the most sexually active mephits in existence. Utterly interested in their own pleasure and not caring in the slightest about the feelings and reactions of others, a lone mud mephit will masturbate virtually anywhere, in almost any situation, unless magically compelled or threatened to stop. When there are multiple mud mephits around, they will near instantly fall on each other when there is nothing else to distract them, leading to orgies that make the swamp writhe.

Mud mephits are not always satisfied with just each other, however. With a frankly unhealthy amount of curiosity combined with a complete lack of respect for the will of others, mud mephits will strip, grope, and investigate the pussies of any creature that doesn’t flee them and lacks the power to intimidate them. A few daring individuals may even dash out to sexually harass more powerful adventurers before fleeing into the mud. Sometimes, this can even lead to mud mephits in swamps on the Material Plane sneaking out to rape beasts and women alike, or even abduct them to use as permanent sexual toys, at least until they get bored.

Men to Mud Mephits

With the same reasons to appreciate them sexually as female conjurers and less aptitude for shame, men tend to agree that among mephits, mud mephits make the best ones to have sex with. In return mud mephits quickly learn about the rarity of men and the pleasure of fucking them and actively crave the chance to receive the undivided sexual attention of a such a unique and sexually talented specimen, gloating about the event for centuries to come. As such, it may seem that men and mud mephits are the perfect match.

Unfortunately, being an attractive sexual partner doesn’t stop a mud mephit from messing with things she shouldn’t, scrounging for treasure, or endlessly complaining. A mud mephit expects a man to constantly be her knight in shining armour, and while the pleasure of a good, hard fucking may shut her up for a minute, she will be back to demanding their attention and to solve all her inane issues the instant she recovers. Where mud mephits go from annoying to dangerous is when they occur in significant numbers, with enough power in numbers they may try to keep a man by force, holding him as a sexual slave in their swamp.

For the most part, the mud that forms a mud mephit is inert, with a man cuming into her having only slightly more chance of impregnating as if he fucked a hole in the ground. Mud mephit pregnancies last for about two and a half years, during which time they complain endlessly about the added weight in their belly, growing slowly to match their body weight, though compressed into a roughly spherical mass of mud. Thanks to the mostly liquid nature of both mother and child, birth is pretty easy despite the new mephit matching her mother in size, the mud simply flowing out and taking form. Despite this ease, compared to humanoid mothers, a pregnant mephit will cry out and make a show of her birth if she thinks someone is around to give her attention for it. For all the complaints mud mephitis have about pregnancy and childbirth, it certainly doesn’t stop them from fucking a man during and after the event.

Chapter 182: Smoke Mephit

Of all elements, fire and air may have the most complex of interactions. A simple breath can extinguish a candle, a mightier gust can put out a torch or campfire, yet air is not always the death of flame, however, mundane fires, those not fuelled directly by raw elemental magic, can suffocate and go out when smothered, deprived of air by blankets and the like and when correctly channelled an influx of air can encourage fires to start or grow. Where the Elemental Planes of Air and Fire meet, the gusts of the former plane both feed and blow out the flames of the latter, creating a scorching and unpredictable maelstrom known as the Great Conflagration or, more accurately, the Para-Elemental Plane of Smoke, so called for the noxious vapours that dominate the plane, spawned from both the death and overexcitement of the elemental flames. This bitter, borderline uninhabitable plane acts as the main bastion for the mephit of combined fire and air, the smoke mephit.

Smouldering Vendettas

If one takes the time to learn the modern Primordial language and decides to use this uncommon linguistic skill to communicate with a mephit of any kind, one is likely to have their efforts rewarded by becoming the recipient of some moderately insulting drivel. This is simply the nature of most mephits, as living embodiments of various impolite messages, they tend to be as impolite as what their very presence is supposed to communicate. However, while many mephits translate in the old Primordial tongue to mean threats and insults, none have the pure insolent contempt that is intended when the black tendrils of a smoke mephit crawls into one’s abode.

A single smoke mephit is an expression of scorn that is hard to translate into anything other than “fuck you.” As such, this hateful intent leaks into a smoke mephit’s very nature. Even before a smoke mephit acts, she is unpleasant to be around, the air around her being just slightly harder to breathe, to the point of exacerbating existing illnesses. One’s eyes sting as soot floats up from her, an affect a smoke mephit an intentionally make worse by exhaleing up some still burning embers, able to temporarily blind most targets.

To add to her natural unpleasantness, a smoke mephit seeks to insult or inconvenience anyone she can. Shamelessly staying just out of reach of retaliation, a smoke mephit hurls insults, offers rude gestures, interferes with plans, and sabotages delicate equipment as best she can. This makes Smoke mephits a constant hazard in arcane forges and other industrial workshops, where they may wait hidden to ruin a project as soon as the artisan’s guard is down for no reason beyond her own amusement. Still, a lone smoke mephit is seldom going to risk her life to be an inconvenience to a random passerby and can be cowed by a sufficient show of might.

As more smoke mephitis are added to the retinue one speaker of the ancient language sends to another, the more serious the meaning becomes. Where a single smoke mephit is simply an expression of distain, several smoke mephits are a declaration of war upon the recipient. Suitably, groups of smoke mephitis become increasingly dangerous as their numbers grow, their antics shifting from insults and pranks to threats and direct assault. A sufficiently large swarm of mephitis seems to throw all caution to the wind, diving upon foes of any power, aiming to rend them with many sets of claws.

Untrustworthy Guides

When not spouting insults or going on the attack, smoke mephits are also rather fond of misleading others, particularly to their deaths. To suit this grim hobby, smoke mephits often inhabit dark, labyrinthine places where the unfamiliar can easily lose their way. Common sites include mazes, cave complexes, dark forests, and overbuilt urban areas, with these places being especially likely to host smoke mephits if they are choked with the vapours of industry, volcanic activity, or the like.

When a suitable mark enters a smoke mephit’s stalking ground, someone who seems uncertain of where they are going or is already lost, she approaches them with the friendliest countenance she can manage. If the mark seems amicable, the mephit, through word or gesture, tries to convince the individual to take them as a guide or at least trust them to give directions. If the individual seems hostile, taunting from a safe distance can also get them to pursue. Once a smoke mephit has a victim following her, she leads them on a wild goose chase, often ending in a near-certain death. In most cases, the smoke mephit gains little from this misdirection beyond entertainment, so one that feels truly endangered will likely abandon her game to flee.

Sometimes, especially when visitors are seasoned adventurers who know about the generally unpleasant nature of mephits, a smoke mephit may figure that her form, dark and imp-like, may hamper her ability to gain the trust of others. However, smoke mephits have means of leading others astray that don’t rely on showing themselves. By focusing the scattered, unstable heat inside them, an act of some effort, a smoke mephit can create dimly glowing masses of embers that she can control at will. Though not particularly impressive alone, these embers can bunch together and create floating orbs of dim light that float around like the lamps of unseen spectres. For even greater effect, the embers can come together to make a glowing, vaguely humanoid form. In the dark and lonely places smoke mephits prefer to inhabit, light and the possibility of other individuals can often rouse curiosity that trumps common sense.

Normally, a smoke mephit’s guidance leads victims to an often-lethal existing hazard, preferably one that the mephit can easily avoid harm from, such as a hidden pit she can fly over or a disused trap that utilises poison or flame, both of which her elemental nature makes her totally immune to. Sometimes, however, the smoke mephit’s fondness for leading folks astray may lead them to partner up with other beings, the smoke mephit leading victims in while their ally delivers the misfortune. Smoke mephits seldom care who they end up working with as long as someone ends up suffering, being just as happy to bring hapless rubes over to gangs of thugs for a shakedown as to lead intruders in a wizard’s tower into her worst traps. Still, like most elementals, smoke mephits are more commonly seen working with beings that embody the elements that constitute them, particularly flame. A smoke mephit may gather sacrifices for a devil worshipping cult, lead new slaves into the clutches of fire giants, or walk straight into her red dragon mistress’ flaming breath with an overly trusting band of would-be thieves in tow. Ultimately, however, the smoke mephit rarely cares about the overarching reasons those she brings victims to use her services, so long as her actions bring more suffering to the world.

Sex and Sexuality Among Smoke Mephits

Being so offensive and generally unpleasant to be around, smoke mephitis are rarely called upon by summoners or other individuals to be sexual partners. On the whole, smoke mephits don’t mind this. Preferring the suffering of others, the average smoke mephit would rather insult a woman’s desperation to fuck her than have and potentially enjoy sex. Knowing the amount of hangups many women have around sex, many smoke mephits like to act like they are “above” sex so that they can appear “better” than the mere mortals around them that seem so desperate for it by comparison. A smoke mephit that is privy to a sexual conversation, or even just mentions of love, among female mortals typically responds with derision, calling even the purest of romantic attraction a sure sign of the person’s animal nature and lack of self-control.

In truth, many smoke mephits are far from the chaste, puritanical souls they make themselves out to be. When alone or around individuals they’ve conclusively decided can’t be sexually shamed, around half of smoke mephits will engage in sexual activities for personal pleasure. Generally, smoke mephits seek to pleasure themselves, avoiding the chance of offering pleasure to others. Still, when smoke mephits come together, they may sometimes opt to pleasure one another fucking in an indistinct, smoky flock.

As smoke mephit numbers grow, so too does their aggression. If the majority of a flock remains sexually interested, this aggression may well turn sexual. Left to their own devices, smoke mephits in large flocks may throw themselves on each other, forcibly taking what they want from each other. However, when a victim appears, things change. Smoke mephits usually don’t waste time with sexual assault of armed women capable of defending themselves, instead concentrating on tearing them apart. However, if a woman seems vulnerable or debilitated, the flock may coalesce around her in a cloud of heat, rape, and noxious fumes. While being gang raped by smoke mephits is seldom lethal in and of itself, individuals in the flock can quickly get bored or confused and revert to regular violence on the target’s vulnerable form.

Men to Smoke Mephits

In some ways, men are a minor source of frustration for a smoke mephit. Most being incorrigible when it comes to their sexual interests, attempts to shame a man for feeling sexual attraction to anything rarely work, and acting utterly sexless is more likely to make the man think less of the mephit rather than himself. Still, sexual shaming is far from the only tool in a smoke mephit's capabilities for cruelty and misdirection, and she will likely have many other tricks that masculinity provides less of a defence for.

Oftentimes, a smoke mephit makes use of a man’s highly sexual nature to try and lead him astray. A smoke mephit with a trap in mind may attempt to lead a man there by mentioning the presence of pretty women who may be interested in laying with him. If the mephit thinks she may have the man’s attraction herself, she may play into it, agreeing to fuck him but asking him to follow her somewhere where they can fuck in private. In truth, smoke mephits have no sense of shame, and if they were genuinely interested in sex, they would likely have it anywhere. As such, a smoke mephit asking for privacy is almost certainly leading a man into a trap.

Sometimes, a smoke mephit genuinely does want to fuck a man, understanding that the unique experience may be more pleasurable than any other opportunity to fuck she is likely to encounter. In these cases, a smoke mephit will likely be fairly easy to talk into sex in nearly any situation, assuming she isn’t being magically compelled by a summoner to immediately attack. A smoke mephit can act infatuated or obsessed with a man, but these feelings are seldom genuine; the mephit will be just as willing to deride, mislead, or even get a man killed once she’s had her fun.

Like all elementals, most sperm that finds its way into the smoking vortex that serves as a smoke mephit’s womb does nothing. However, if the life force of the sperm does combine with the elemental power of the mephit herself, a smoke mephit’s pregnancy tends not to be too difficult. Made from two highly condensable elements, a smoke mephit’s baby is held inside her at such high pressure that even a smoke mephit at almost a year and a quarter pregnant, about to give birth, is almost impossible to distinguish from a mephit who simply isn’t pregnant, at least by sight alone. When the new smoke mephit rushes out of its mother’s pussy, it almost immediately expands to full size the instant it is out.

Chapter 183: Steam Mephit

Of all the four elements represented in the main Elemental Planes, fire and water may be the most classic in their symbolism of total, diametric opposition without moral insistence on either side. While the forces of the Upper and Lower Planes may have reasons to clash that mortals may understand in their broader strokes, the philosophical differences irreconcilable with one another, fire and water are not moral entities who vie for reasons any more concrete than the understanding it to be the basic nature of reality. A flame may invigorate or destroy and water may nourish or drown, yet when faced with each other, annihilation is the most common result; fire is extinguished by water while fire’s heat fritters water away. Thankfully separated by the Elemental Planes of Air and Earth, the inconsiderable result of the Elemental Planes of Fire and Water bordering each other and experiencing more contact than the scant few portals that connect them could well be cataclysmic on an interplanar level. Yet, the meeting of flame and water is not complete destruction, and there is a mephit born of the two elements’ resentful union. Full of hissing, sputtering instability, the steam mephit straddles the line of liquid fluidity and burning vitriol.

Elemental Disharmony

Made of two diametrically opposed elements, steam mephitis shows their unstable nature both physically and emotionally. The wavering, insubstantial body of a steam mephit barely holds together, looking even in moments of relative calm as if it is about to tear itself apart. When threatened, a steam mephit can intentionally tap into this instability for a bit, steam leaking out of her form to make her harder to pin down by distorting the boundary between her actual body and the stream around her.

Though half made of fire, the instability of a steam mephit’s combined form makes her body temperature inconsistent. In most places, a steam mephit is warm but bearable to the touch. However, one must take care when touching a steam mephit, for her form bubbles with pockets of scalding hot vapour able to boil a person alive. These points often cumulate around her sharp claws, giving her otherwise insubstantial slashes a blistering edge. With slightly more effort, a steam mephit can eject several such pockets from her mouth in a blast capable of burning foes.

This disharmony is at constant work within a steam mephit, causing them a constant feeling of instability. As such, unable to quell the war going on within them, most steam mephits desperately strive to control as much of what they can around them. Unfortunately for them, steam mephits are weak pitiful creatures that largely inhabit the Elemental Chaos, one of the most unstable, ungovernable places in existence, making them even more stressed.

Places outside of the Elemental Chaos that tend to accrue steam mephits are fairly rare due to the conflicting elements required; however, steam mephitis crave to have such places as a home, with locations such as undersea volcanoes, geysers, and thermal springs being far more comfortable than the fleeting globules of flame and water they cling to in their native plane. Steam mephits may also find their way to more artificial sources of steam and hot water, such as kitchens, bathhouses, and forges. While many imagine a steam mephit infestation to be a problem, steam mephits would usually prefer the owners of the places keep the heat and water coming and so wilfully assist in keeping such businesses afloat, acting as surprisingly helpful, if unsurprisingly annoying, guardians and serving staff of their own free will.

Controlling Cooperators

Much about steam mephits is an improbable harmony of elements that should destroy one another. Perhaps noticing this, the ancient primordials used steam mephits to say things that rarely came easily to their dark selfish minds. In a league of nearly inconsiderable beings who seemed to know nothing besides war, arrogance, and consumption, the steam mephit was the closest thing to a pleasant phrase utterable in a single mephit. Where other mephits threaten or insult, a steam mephit simply means “I agree,” a recognition of another primordial’s wisdom or shared beliefs.

To call the sending of a steam mephit a kind act may be an exaggeration, however. While a primordial may have been willing to admit they shared an opinion with another, the opportunity to assert superiority is one that few were humble enough to pass up. “I agree” may therefore be an oversimplification of what a steam mephit is meant to mean. A more apt term may be “I told you so,” the sender offering their agreement with the recipient’s belief or plans, but also implicitly suggesting the recipient’s stance was thought of by the sender to begin with, and it was only common sense that led the recipient to abandon their original, backward ideas and obey the sender’s wisdom.

This arrogance trickles down into the unstable, controlling nature of the steam mephits themselves. When a steam mephit believes themselves to be right about something, they are completely intractable to counterpoints. What is more, steam mephits like nothing more than to press their beliefs onto others. It is for this reason that steam mephits are some of the few mephits that dislike large crowds of their own kind. While a small flock of roughly half a dozen steam mephits may have similar enough beliefs to mostly get along, larger flocks increase the likelihood of differing or opposing viewpoints that can easily tear it apart. As such, most steam mephits prefer to look beyond their own kind for lessers in need of their “guidance.”

Few steam mephits are truly delusional enough to believe they can claim mastery over beings more powerful than themselves, a collective including many creatures. Instead, steam mephitis look to other kinds of mephits, steam mephits considering themselves the greatest, wisest, and most rightful rulers of all the mephits. While steam mephits generally lack the magical aptitude to control, other mephits, as summoners do, do have the ability to nag, shriek, and complain ceaselessly until it becomes more efficient for the mephits subjected to the tirade to simply comply with the steam mephit’s supposed authority. With this “dominion” established, a steam mephit endeavours to use her genius to lead her “enlightened” servants to advance the power of the mephits.

Thankfully, steam mephits are only marginally smarter than mephitis of other kinds on average and have the same lack of true motivation, making their plots seldom of any real consequence. Some powerful beings use steam mephitis as officers or management, for a steam mephit that finds herself under the leadership of a more powerful being will quickly adapt to a position of shrieking her new master's orders to other underlings. Steam mephits especially like such intermediary roles when they grant the ability to command creatures far stronger than they would ordinarily, warriors and monsters that would swat the mephit like a fly if her words weren’t coming from an even more powerful being that rules them both.

Sex and Sexuality Among Steam Mephits

Generally, steam mephit’s are among the mephits most likely to be summoned by a woman for sexual reasons. Possessing warm, if slightly insubstantial, bodies that are generally safe as long as one doesn’t probe too deeply into their hotter interior, a summoner can close her eyes and almost imagine they are making love with a fellow mortal. This is helped by the steam mephit’s view of sex. Where most mephits accept the low opinion most of the world has for them and use it as ammunition to enhance the self-judgement a spellcaster may have for relying on them for sexual pleasure, a steam mephit’s sky high self-opinion makes her unable to see a mortal’s decision to have sex with her as anything but a sign of excellent taste in lovers.

Steam mephits have also developed a great taste for sex without the involvement of a mortal mistress. When not faced with a being undeniably stronger than them, however, steam mephits tend to seek sexual dominance in their unions. As such, multiple steam mephits trying to fuck each other will inevitably devolve into a great argument about who is serving who. Often unwilling to masturbate out of a desire to be served, a steam mephit often looks to their “servants” for sexual needs, by which they mean any nearby mephit of another kind they can badger into cooperation.

This demanding, nagging nature can sometimes extend to other creatures too. While a steam mephit generally knows better than to hit on a wizard or druid that called her forth for clearly non-sexual reasons, steam mephits generally consider themselves sexually desirable and may occasionally try to inflict themselves on mortal women when they feel the situation is right. Steam mephits are rarely outright rapacious, even when they have the numbers or strength to overpower a target; after all, fucking a woman by force would imply there is a reason she wouldn’t want to have sex with the mephit consensually.

Instead of trying to overpower a victim, the steam mephit tries to “charm” them into fucking her. Unfortunately, steam mephits lack much in the way of social graces, and when a person, be they a bathhouse visitor or a weary traveller, shows disinterest in making love to a shrieking, imp-like mass of steam, the steam mephit seldom takes no for an answer. Selfish acceptance and agreement incarnate, steam mephits see any refusal to have sex with them as a sign of poor judgement that must be corrected through their natural "persuasiveness," that is to say, through constant nagging, degrading insults, and mostly hollow threats for non-compliance.

Men to Steam Mephits

Steam mephits are generally quite divided about men and male creatures. When a man meets a steam mephit without external influences on her, her reaction is mostly a coin toss. If he encounters a flock, the unveiled differences in opinion may tear the flock in two. Regardless of opinion, however, one can always expect a steam mephit to have something to say about men, just as they do on all subjects.

About half of all steam mephits  see masculinity as a fundamental sign of opposition on the man’s part, as if the man, by somehow “choosing” to be born the rarer sex, is defiantly refusing to accept the “correctness” of being female, like the mephit herself. Such outright defiance tends to make these mephits hostile to me, though a steam mephit is unlikely to outright attack a man unless she has significant forces to back up her assault. Instead, she will hang back, trying to convince the man of his inferiority from a safe distance through insults, while prompting other mephits to harass him more directly.

The other half of the steam mephit population knows of the pleasure that comes from fucking a man and believes themselves to be completely worthy of receiving it, to the point where she believes men “owe” her a good fucking. Believing herself to be perfect and charming, a steam mephit interested in laying with a man propositions him with crass directness. Still, few men will turn down a cooperative sexual partner, so there is a good chance a sexually interested steam mephit’s efforts will bear fruit. With the blessings of Nymphona protecting a man’s cock from the scalding nature of a steam mephit’s womb, a consenting steam mephit is in fact rather safe to grope or handle, as long as one keeps their hands away from her claws. When a man is visibly powerful, a steam mephit can act submissive, but if given any amount of free reign in sex, a man can expect her to become a demanding brat in record time, both during and long after sex.

Most of the time, the boiling pocket that serves as a steam mephit’s inert womb doesn’t really react to a man’s seed filling it. Sometimes, however, when the life and elemental energy of a man and steam mephit meet, they can combine into a pregnancy. A steam mephit who realises that she is pregnant and knows where the man she fucked is often goes after him, demanding to be looked after for the year and a half she is pregnant for. This care normally consists of continuing to have sex with her and listening to her whine about how unappreciated she is for things she seldom has reason to take credit for. In truth, steam mephit pregnancy is not very difficult at all; the fluid and compressible nature of steam means that the baby barely shows and puts virtually no strain on the mother’s body. When it comes time to give birth, the baby slips out painlessly in a rush of steam, expanding to full size and achieving complete independence as soon as it is out of its mother’s pussy.

Chapter 184: Merfolk

Whispered as legends by sailors and coastal explorers, merfolk, often called mermaids in the usual situation of them being female, are in fact one of the most common peoples in the sea. With the top half of a usually beautiful human, sometimes with fins, webbed fingers, or skin and hair in tones of aqueous blues or greens depending on their familial lineage, the true defining trait of a merfolk is their fish- or dolphin-like tail in place of legs. With a similar variety in their lives and natures as is found among humans and similar races on land, merfolk lead lives all their own in the sea, so close yet so distantly separated from the world most well-known adventurers know.

Fish Herders and Queen Commanders

For all their oft spoken of exceptionality, sung of as beings of incredible charm and exotic influence by land-bound bards and moon-eyed sailors, the truth is that most mermaids live lives largely comparable to many people on land, just reframed in an oceanic context. Generally, merfolk prefer to live in shallower waters, places where the sun’s light can reach the seabed. To a mermaid, a dark abyssal trench is similar to how a human would view a yawning cave to the Underdark—not a place to be ventured into unless one is particularly foolhardy or adventurous. Though there are undoubtably such bold merfolk among the race, the far larger proportion would be happy to avoid such places.

There are many stories of great cities of carved coral, home to armies of mermaids whose voices carry the power to enrapture, bless, or curse land lubbers who dare intrude on their home. Such kingdoms are uncommon, however, with most merfolk living a simple, subsistence-based existence. Mermaids grow edible aquatic plants in fields, much like human farmers will grow vegetables and grains. They will also keep various kinds of fish and other aquatic life as both livestock and pets. Living most all their lives underwater, mermaids generally do not have access to fire and the crafts associated with it, such as cooking, smithing, and glasswork. As such, merfolk eat most of their food raw and generally craft their tools, clothes, and weapons out of shells, aquatic plant fibres, stone, driftwood, and the remains of slain aquatic beasts. Actual items made of rust-resistant metals and glass are generally treasured and seen as highly valuable in the rare event merfolk and land folk engage in trade.

Adding to this unexpectedly humble life is the fact that merfolk are not in fact all that magical naturally, having essentially no inherent spellcasting ability afforded by their race. Still, merfolk are just as capable of attaining magical abilities as humans, elves, and other land-living humanoids are. Merfolk seldom take up wizardry, not due to a lack of mental acuity but because, like fire, being underwater also inhibits the use of arts that call for writing in ink and the like. Other paths to magical brilliance are available, however; some merfolk show an aptitude for bardic magic, singing in enchanted voices and playing a range of odd instruments made to work best beneath the sea. Other merfolk take on the power and responsibility of divine magic, mostly from their patron goddess, Eadro, but less morally inclined merfolk are just as able to become heralds for darker powers, such as the goddess Umberlee, Bitch Queen of the Sea.

Though most merfolk live rather simple, self-sufficient lives, the grand kingdoms that surface poets dream of are not completely fictitious. Often in response to some dire external treat, merfolk may band together behind a mighty and inspirational leader. Crowned queen, this mermaid spurs those that follow her to make great sunken bastions against the threat, the amassed numbers of mermaids making production more efficient until what started as a cooperative stand against danger becomes a great and prosperous kingdom that may reign for centuries and generations after the initial impetuous is dealt with and forgotten. Often attracting the more magically capable of mermaids, using their magic to shape the empire, such places can seem to almost be alive with the will of the sea itself, enchanting visitors with architecture that could never be built on the surface. While most merfolk royal families start off with noble intentions, generations of aristocratic living or possible covert usurpations mean that older kingdoms do not always retain their idealistic roots.

Apart from Our World

Favouring shallow waters, such as those located along coastlines, merfolk generally prefer to make their homes surprisingly close to the homes of land-living peoples. Merfolk are also not lacking in numbers; some estimates place the population on the Material Plane as similar to that of humans, without even mentioning those that have found their way to the Elemental Plane of Water and other extraplanar water bodies. Still, most humans and other air-breathing people tend to conceptualise merfolk as rare or illusive creatures. The reason for this disparity is due mostly to the lack of contact between the peoples of the ocean and the peoples of the land.

Humans, dwarves, and most other races used to dry land have one major obstacle when it comes to visiting merfolk in their domains: their dependence on air. With even the most capable human divers generally only holding their breath for minutes at a time, even getting to a mermaid’s home, typically a submerged cave or sunken shack made of stones and driftwood, can mean putting oneself at a pertinent risk of a watery grave. To converse or spend any appreciable time among merfolk in their domain, most people would need the aid of magic to let them breathe underwater.

Merfolk do not have the commensurate issue when it comes to visiting us, being able to breathe air just as well as they breathe water. However, there are a collection of other issues that hamper a merfolk’s exploration onto land, most glaringly, their lack of legs. On land, merfolk can haul themselves around somewhat, ensuring that they are rarely completely stranded, but compared to how they can blitz through the water, a merfolk on land is pathetically ill equipped to defend themselves or embark on any sort of land-bound journey.  

As such, merfolk generally keep to their own watery domain, only breaking the water’s surface every now and then to sit on rocks or relax on the beach, taking in the alien vistas that are our homes. It is often during these activities that mermaids are spotted by sailors or the citizens of coastal towns. With these sightings being so rare, even an innocuous visit from a mermaid can become a local legend, spawning artwork and songs and even becoming considered an omen of future good fortunes.

While most people are simply awed or gladdened to meet a mermaid, others have darker intentions. Their inhuman nature, clouded by lack of contact, makes some powerful and selfish people feel justified in capturing and enslaving mermaids, holding them prisoner as pets in large aquariums. Others believe, falsely, that elixirs of eternal youth or beauty can be made from the blood, fins, or various organs of a mermaid, driving their efforts to hunt them. Understandably, these bad actors have given merfolk plenty of reason to be cautious and brief in their interactions with people of the surface.

Despite the danger we often pose, the curiosity many land folks feel about mermaids is often reciprocated by certain merfolk. It is not uncommon for merfolk to collect human or otherwise land-made trinkets from shipwrecks out of curiosity, sometimes implementing them into their daily lives, especially if they happen to include metal weapons and tools they can use. As mentioned, merfolk also sometimes come up to the surface to watch coastal locales and passing ships from a safe distance. Sometimes, these daring approaches lead to merfolk and people of the land meeting and establishing personal friendships that, in the long run, may eventually pave the way for an alliance of sea and land.Despite the danger we often pose, the curiosity many land folks feel about mermaids is often reciprocated by certain merfolk. It is not uncommon for merfolk to collect human or otherwise land-made trinkets from shipwrecks out of curiosity, sometimes implementing them into their daily lives, especially if they happen to include metal weapons and tools they can use. As mentioned, merfolk also sometimes come up to the surface to watch coastal locales and passing ships from a safe distance. Sometimes, these daring approaches lead to merfolk and people of the land meeting and establishing personal friendships that, in the long run, may eventually pave the way for an alliance of sea and land.

Sex and Sexuality Among Merfolk

Divided into many separate and independent kingdoms and tribes, the cultures merfolk engage in vary from place to place. This variance also extends to matters of relationships and sex. How a mermaid may traditionally seek to woo another in one part of the sea may be all but unrecognisable as a romantic overture by a mermaid from a more distant area. Still, there are a few commonalities. For one, most merfolk enjoy singing, the water carrying their hauntingly melodic voices for miles. As such, it is not uncommon for merfolk to serenade the objects of their desires.

Another feature of merfolk is their uniquely powerful pangs of affection. Often seemingly in tune with the spring tides, a mermaid can feel very suddenly and very deeply in love with another, almost to the point where it may seem a spell has been cast upon them. Often, this near-manic sense of attraction is mutual, and the two or more merfolk will throw themselves upon each other. Sometimes, this passion lasts only the night, the merfolk giving one another pleasure and then going back to their normal lives, rarely feeling shame for what they did as it is simply a fact of their nature. Other times, this outpouring of withheld or unnoticed feelings is just the foundation a lifelong relationship needs to begin. Monogamy, polygamy, and completely casual sex are all relationships that various merfolk tribes subscribe to, though they tend towards the former two more strongly as a tribe becomes a formally established kingdom, especially among the royalty, the queen generally having a single consort to bear her heir and possibly a harem of officially recognised concubines in addition.

The spring tides that tend to herald the start of many sexual relationships tend to also be the time when the bulk of merfolk are conceived. Though merfolk can have sex and reproduce at other times, the desire brought on by the spring tides drives many merfolk to try for a baby at those times, believing the tide will also increase their chances of a successful pregnancy. For such a unique being, the pregnancy of a mermaid is a fairly mundane affair. Though many reasonably assume merfolk breed with roe like a fish, A mermaid carries her pregnancy for around nine months before giving birth to a live infant merfolk, normally just the one. Merfolk nurse and grow at much the same rate as humans, generally being considered adults anywhere from sixteen to twenty years old, though teenage merfolk can begin to feel the lusts of the spring tides at younger ages and are generally quite precocious.

As often noted by other races, merfolk are almost universally beautiful by the standards of many humanoids. With their highly active lifestyle and seafood diet, it takes a frankly ludicrous amount of inactivity and overeating for a merfolk to become overweight, let alone unattractively so. With near-perfect figures and many charming, feminine traits besides, many a sailor or artist dreams of winning a fair mermaid’s affections. For the mermaid’s part, this is not always an undesirable union to be a part of. A mermaid curious enough about the surface to make a land-living friend may eventually wish to know them sexually, and a mermaid caught in the influence of the spring tides makes it possible for a mermaid to fall in love with a complete stranger at times, even a stranger of another land-living race, if only for a night. Due to the difficulties in cohabitation that merfolk and land-living humanoids have, most of these sexual experiences are one-off encounters. Still, merfolk can cross breed with certain land-living humanoids, namely humans and elves, giving rise to offspring bearing the aquatic capabilities of merfolk and the functional legs of their other parent.

Men to Merfolk

In general, merfolk are cautious around men of the surface. After all, a man has the possibility to be driven by even stronger sexual desire than other individuals who may be wicked enough to assault or enslave a mermaid. Ultimately, however, a mermaid’s feelings around men can be as varied as a human woman's, with some bearing a desire to be used by a man that outstrips reason and another having similarly unreasonable pathological hatred, perhaps influenced by culture, personal experience, or what they’ve heard. Most merfolk are more moderate, however, willing to judge a man by his personal bearing and actions. Many mermaids are in fact more favourable towards men, because they too know what it is like to be guided by lust.

Despite their on average positive attitude towards men, merfolk are inherently cautious around unfamiliar surface dwellers and are unlikely to approach a man unless they are in dire need of his assistance or the man himself appears in danger. Instead, the mermaids are likely to just watch the man longingly, wishing they had the bravery to approach him. If a man approaches a mermaid, she may flee in panic, especially if the man brings her to the attention of a large crowd. A man who is more quiet in his introduction may be better able to get to know a mermaid.

Most of the time, a mermaid’s pride, nerves, or other personal hang-ups may prevent her from having sex with a man until she knows him a little better. This time spent bonding can be worth it for some men. Mermaids can make fascinating and often useful friends for men that have the time and inclination to socialise. A man who would prefer a one-off fuck is better off visiting mermaids during the spring tides, when the inhibitions of mermaids are at their lowest, and a mermaid with any interest in fucking a man will likely do near anything to get a man’s cock in her. Though this may sound like an easy route, where one mermaid is, there are often others, and the passions of the spring tides can make them jealous of the attentions a man gives to their sisters. Though few are confirmed, there are tragic stories of men drowning as tide-maddened mermaids fought to fuck them.

Mermaids are not entirely reliant on other creatures for cock, however. Though it is hard to get a solid number among scholars on land, it is thought that merfolk birth mermen with about the same commonality as men are born among humanity. Like men on land, mermen tend to develop a powerful urge to wander as they reach adulthood. Alone or with a  group of aquatic companions, mermen live lives of adventure, facing the dangers of the deep in search of water breathing women and pelagic monstrosities to fuck. Like mermaids, mermen can run the full gamut of adventurous archetypes, from sadistic villains to charming, beautiful paragons. Some mermen have even developed the social, martial, and sexual influence to become kings of mermaid kingdoms, producing heirs at the head of vast dynasties.

Most of the time, even the most capable merman heroes, villains, and kings reach only minimal acclaim on land, whispers of their exploits being all but entirely strained out through the barrier between sea and shore with those few tales that make it through being conflated with tales of other mermen. However, just as men on land sometimes look down and consider fucking a creature or woman of the sea, so too do mermen sometimes look to have sex with women on the shore and other female creatures that breathe air. Often this is simply a matter of seducing an isolated sailor or fisherwomen, fucking her in the water, and then depositing her back on shore or on her boat. Only occasionally does a merman’s drive to fuck something on land drive him to venture far out of his native environment, often with the aid of magic.

Chapter 185: Merrow

Lurking in the dark of ocean trenches and the waters of rocky, storm-wracked capes, tribes of merrows lurk in wait for flesh and plunder. Only vaguely akin to the merfolk their ancestors once were, the upper portion of a merrow is more akin to a hulking ogre than a beautiful human or elf, sheathed in scales tough enough to resist blows from steel weaponry. A merrow’s jaws are filled with jagged teeth, and their clawed fingers can rend through a ship’s hull unaided. All notions of nobility or pastoral peace are gone from the black hearts and slow minds of a merrow, which are filled instead with bloodthirsty savagery to rival demons of the Abyss.

Demonic Depths

The tale of the first merrows is a story whose grim matters may be one of the few things able to outstrip the horrific nature of the merrows themselves. It is a tale of deception, bloodshed, and unending demonic madness. The story begins in a long-reigning merfolk kingdom, much like many of the noble domains that exist under the waves today, though perhaps slightly more insular and less eager to face the foes of justice and benevolence than it had in its glory days, being more so retiring than corrupt.

The queen of this kingdom, ruling as head of the Merrow dynasty, though not the hero her ancestors were, was all around a decent ruler who sought what was best for her people. It was thus alarming to the queen when she dreamt of an incoming cataclysm, a time when the waters of her kingdom would be stained red with the blood of her people. Thankfully, the queen’s vision also offered her a path to salvation. Following the instructions of her visions, the queen led her people, by light of luminescent sea life, down into an ocean trench so deep that the sun’s light gave in a day’s swim from the bottom.

There at the deepest point, the merfolk found the source of their queen’s vision, a rift in reality, sealed so tightly that only whispers could make it through, whispers directly into the queen’s mind. Some merfolk saw the unnatural sight and fled, but a large portion subsequently returned with grim news. The rift’s warning had apparently come true; in the merfolk’s absence, bloodthirsty creatures now roamed the streets of their abandoned, sunlit kingdom. Only by the rifts warning and the queen’s wisdom in following its advice, the returning decentres reasoned, had the kingdom avoided mass death at the hands of the monstrous invaders.

Their faith in their queen and the mysterious rift solidified by the foul tidings, and the kingdom followed their queen’s orders to the letter. Stone by stone, the kingdom was rebuilt in the depths of the ocean chasm, and the queen’s palace was built around the rift so that she could commune with it whenever it wished to speak. As the new kingdom sprang up in the dark, the rift spoke to the queen again. This time, it had not warnings but promises of a paradise on its other side, if only the rift could be opened.

To start with, the attempts to open the rift were somewhat tame, simple rituals and magical experiments to probe into its mysteries. Gradually, the rift suggested the merfolk try acts of greater supplication, that maybe the raw power of their faith would be enough to open it. With little else to have faith in in the bleak darkness, most of the kingdom eventually subscribed to the new faith, the rift slowly becoming their god and the queen its prophet. As faith grew, the ways called for to show this faith became increasingly unhinged and unpleasant. Eventually, the rift called for blood. Frightened of the dismal depths she ruled and fuelled by a desperation that had long crossed over into the realm of madness, the queen eagerly embraced the new dogma.

Scores of merfolk were killed in the sacrifices that followed, first decentres and heretics, but gradually the floating bodies littered the streets until only those mad and desperate enough to unquestioningly follow the queen’s bloody acts remained. Though too blinded by insanity to see it, the queen had become the very cataclysm she had foreseen. Eventually, the sacrifices were sufficient, and the rift they had worshipped for so long finally cracked open. Without second thought, the queen and her surviving subjects passed through. The other side of the rift was no paradise, however; as the rift closed behind them, the merfolk found themselves in the demon-infested waters of the Gaping Maw, the layer of the Abyss ruled by Demogorgon, Princess of Demons, herself.

One can only shudder to imagine the unholy fates that Queen Merrow and her followers suffered in that abyssal sea, but it is known that the dynasty survived and, in a way, eventually thrived. Though they avoided extinction and grew to eventually infest the Gaping Maw, this success came at the cost of virtually every shred of their being they had left. By the time Demogorgon deigned to toss a few handfuls of merrows, the race having named themselves after their former queen, back into the Material Plane to spread her chaos, they had been utterly warped by generations in the Abyss, their bodies swollen into living weapons and their minds reduced to think on little more than unending violence. In all but physical makeup, the merrows had been essentially reduced to a new form of aquatic demon.

Pelagic Plunderers

On the Material Plane, merrows live either alone, in mated pairs, or in small tribes, with numbers greater than five or so generally tearing each other apart if not forced to cooperate by some higher power, such as a kraken or Demogorgon herself. With no concept of artistry or self-expression, merrows largely live like animals, using their overwhelming strength and natural weaponry to kill and eat prey, spending much of the rest of their time resting in dark underwater caves and deep undersea cervices. Naturally fond of cruelty and bullying, merrows prefer intelligent prey such as sailors, sahuagin, and merfolk. Those they do not eat are normally strewn among the rocks and tangled in weeds as crude warnings of their power.

Though not given to making beautiful or well-crafted things, merrows do have an intrinsic attraction to treasures, particularly things that glitter or have artistic merit. Some think that this is a holdover from their merfolk ancestry, that by attaining such artworks, they may partially remember the multifaceted, cultured beings they once were. Others think that it is just a manifestation of their cruelty, that they are driven to gather things that are beautiful so as to deny them to other creatures. Evidence for this more cynical perspective can be seen in how merrows treat plunder they have claimed, with anything not edible or usable as a weapon generally being unceremoniously tossed into a corner of their lair rather than being employed decoratively as one may expect from a repressed artist.

With a desire for both intelligent prey and booty, merrows often target ships in the hopes of killing the crew and plundering their holds. However, though brutish and violent, merrows are also inbuilt survivors who understand that a large enough crew could conceivably repel or even kill them if they attacked unwisely, especially if they simply clambered aboard. While a merrow’s mobility is generally acceptable enough to search through a ship's hold once all the crew capable of disturbing them are dealt with, they are about as slow out of water as a mermaid and suffer similar, though by no means total vulnerability. Instead, merrows prefer their prey to find their way into the water, where the advantage is theirs.

The easiest way to do this is simply to sink the ship. Merrows may cause shipwrecks by allying with larger aquatic creatures such as krakens or dragon turtles or by intimidating and misleading ships towards reefs and other hazards. On smaller ships, such as keelboats, the merrows may be strong enough to simply capsize the vessels themselves. Merrows seldom give up when a ship seems beyond their means to sink, however. If the ship cannot be brought to the bottom of the sea, they will simply bring the crew down instead. A stroke of genius by the lacking standards of their brutish kind, many merrows go pillaging armed with harpoons, oversized javelins with barbed tips that dig into the flesh of whatever they are thrown at. To the other end of her weapon, a merrow attaches a rope, either made of crudely woven kelp and hides or liberated from the rigging of previously raided ships. From the comfort of the waves, merrow hurl their spears into the ship’s defenders before hauling back, yanking the victim overboard and to their waiting jaws.

Sex and Sexuality Among Merrows

Having lived and bred for generations in the pitiless depths of the Abyss, love and romance are concepts that have been entirely obliterated from the merrow psyche. Many merrows seek solitude, and those merrows that do live collectively do so because more merrows means a greater capability for destruction and out of an uncertainty of who would kill and eat who if the band turned on each other. If a merrow believes she could kill another merrow at minimal risk to her own wellbeing, she would normally do so. This is also how some merrows can come to serve a leader of some sort, be it a particularly powerful merrow, a cunning aquatic monster, or even Demogorgon herself. Merrows are not loyal to their leaders; they simply follow their orders out of fear of being destroyed.

Still, for how monstrously warped and mentally corrupted merrows are compared to their merfolk ancestors, merrows somehow retain one merfolk instinct, the infatuations of the spring tides. One should make no mistake, the coming of the spring tides is not a time of romance and affection for merrows as it is for merfolk; like many things, the merrow have taken the behaviours of their ancestors and denigrated it to a brutal, animalistic affair. When the spring tides come, there is no singing or wooing, just a powerful drive to mate.

Fucking one another on nights of the highest tides, merrow sex is a violent affair with no shortage of biting, clawing, and aggression. If a merrow isn’t strong enough, the efforts of keeping up with the sexual violence of their partner may well be killed and eaten. It is thus usually the stronger merrow that get pregnant, increasing the likelihood that they will survive the nights of breeding and give birth. Like mermaids, merrows carry their pregnancies for nine months before birthing their live young, normally birthing only a single infant merrow. Once born, however, merrows grow quickly. Though it still takes around fifteen years for a merrow to reach full size, she will be strong enough to hunt and fend for herself at around three. Most mothers will not tolerate their offspring for much longer than this, so a young merrow must flee, either to go it alone or partner up with a handful of other merrow of their approximate age.

Even solitary merrows are not spared the animal lust of the spring tides. Without others of their kind to fall upon, a lone merrow in the throes of spring tide lust will violently rape whatever they can get their claws upon, including sharks, dolphins, merfolk, and drowning sailors, dragged into the depths by the merrow herself. With how violent merrows are while fucking, it is rare for these improvised mates to survive. Even if they do, female merrows seem incapable of impregnating any mortal creature beyond others of their kind, not even mermaids; the changes wrought on the merrows during their time in the Abyss apparently changed them into reproductively distinct creatures.Even solitary merrows are not spared the animal lust of the spring tides. Without others of their kind to fall upon, a lone merrow in the throes of spring tide lust will violently rape whatever they can get their claws upon, including sharks, dolphins, merfolk, and drowning sailors, dragged into the depths by the merrow herself. With how violent merrows are while fucking, it is rare for these improvised mates to survive. Even if they do, female merrows seem incapable of impregnating any mortal creature beyond others of their kind, not even mermaids; the changes wrought on the merrows during their time in the Abyss apparently changed them into reproductively distinct creatures.

Men to Merrows

Most of the time, merrows consider humanoid men as too weak to be considered useful sexual partners rather than just other prey. The one time a merrow may consider a man sexually is during the nights of the spring tide; this does not make them pleasant or safe for a man to approach. The violent manner of merrow sexuality isn’t restrained just because their mate is a rare male, and unless the merrow is somehow restrained or intimidated into submission, a man can very well be killed.

Still, merrows do seem to have some instinctive respect for masculinity, at least when it’s wielded by creatures of significant power and aggression. Tribes of merrows can sometimes form around male sea monsters or demons, their spring tide lust combining with their fear of those stronger than them, making them into the creature’s underlings and primary sexual tools, while the merrows also seek out other warm bodies for their master to use, diverting some of his sexual fury, making it one of the few occasions merrows try to take victims alive. Very occasionally, a humanoid man does have the intimidating influence to overcome his comparatively small body and earn mastery over a few merrows, though men who successfully rule over merrow are usually of a similarly brutal, bloodthirsty nature, since few merrow respond to anything but overt savagery.

Seemingly slightly less commonly born than mermen, male merrow seem to approach the very ideals of the sorts of males that female merrow respect, being fearsome, strong, and possessed of a constant desire to rape, sometimes even to death. Assuming he survives to independence, a male merrow seeks out a pod of female merrows to dominate, ruling through aggression and rapacious violence. A male merrow seldom keeps his sexual escapades to just his merrow underlings however, fucking nearly anything he doesn’t immediately kill. Humanoids rarely survive such assaults but women that do may go on to birth semi-aquatic offspring, often similar to the children of mermaids and humans but usually stronger and less classically beautiful.

Chapter 186: Mimic

Of all the hazards an adventurer may encounter on delving into a ruin or hidden vault, the mimic is simultaneously among the most widely warned of and hardest to predict. An experienced adventurer knows that though there are general trends in habitat and form, a predatory mimic can crop up nearly anywhere and can be nearly anything. Mimics are thus the reason that any adventurer that wishes to live to an old age will swiftly adopt a healthy dose of paranoia when exploring dungeons.

Perfect Imitators

In its true form, a mimic is little more than an amorphous blob of pallid flesh with tits and a vagina, growing beady little eyes and fanged maws as needed. However, one is unlikely to meet a mimic in this state. A mimic can, at will, sculpt her body into virtually any shape and alter the colour and texture of her flesh to become indistinguishable from bone, rock, wood, metal, or any combination of the four, along with most other simple construction materials. The practical upshot of this is that a mimic can make herself faultlessly resemble essentially any sort of inanimate object she knows of. Mimics generally cannot make massive alterations to their overall volume, so the average mimic usually goes for things like large chests, doors, suits of armour, and anything else of that approximate size range.

Mimics use their remarkable transformative abilities in order to hunt. Generally preferring areas that draw in spelunkers and explorers, mimics tend to inhabit ruins, tombs, and treasure vaults. In such places, the mimic places herself in a likely spot and changes herself to resemble something not out of place in the area but that would be in a treasure hunter’s interest to interact with, such as a chest or sarcophagus that may contain treasure, a door in an entryway, or a lever seemingly part of some ancient mechanism.

When potential prey gets close, a mimic can lash out and grab them with a tendril, but usually prefers to let their prey grab them. When a mimic is touched, she can reflexively alter the structure of the contacted area in order to bond it powerfully to whatever touched her, essentially sticking her unwary victim to her like glue. Her target unable to get away, the mimic reveals her eyes and mouth of jagged, acid drenched fangs and attacks.

Telling a mimic from an ordinary inanimate object without risking an attack is nearly impossible by mundane observation alone, for a mimics imitation is visually identical in most cases, the only real limitation being that the item must be of a comparable size to its true form and most mimics lack the intelligence to accurately transcribe written words onto themselves. Most mimics avoid this issue by simply not trying to become items with writing on them. Another issue mimics have to deal with are the transformative limitations placed on all living things by Nymphona herself. Mimics, like all female life, cannot rid themselves of their female assets, namely their breasts and pussy. These assets do not have to be immediately obvious, however.

A mimic normally puts her pussy on the underside of whatever object she is pretending to be, requiring a soul to flip her over, and thus touch her in order to see it. As for a mimic’s breasts, while a they are usually of a scale expected for a creature the mimic’s size, they are normally far squishier and more easily compressed than the tits of, say, a humanoid or beast. As such, a mimic generally keeps her tits hidden and compressed away behind panels or the like. When a mimic releases the tension her body is kept under to strike, her tits are normally released, causing them to spring forth from seemingly nowhere, much like her teeth.

Guardians Among Treasure

Once an adventurer wraps their head around the ability of a mimic to change shape, it is tempting to consider them rather simple monsters, easily dealt with if the correct precautions are taken. Mimics are nothing if not variable, however, and there appear to be all manner of unique subtypes. Physically, the average mimic grows to about five to fifteen cubic feet, yet there are breeds that grow much larger, known as elder mimics that can pose as full architecture. On the other end of the scale miniature or “toy” mimics can be anywhere from three to less than a single cubic foot in volume. Usually disguising themselves as keys, jewellery boxes, and other trinkets, such mimics are generally kept as familiars and pets by wizards and the like, made responsible for attacking those that may disturb the spellcaster’s laboratories or studies.

Outside of physical size, mimics also exhibit some mental variance on occasion. In most cases, mimics possess only an animalistic, predatory intelligence lacking the intellectual capacity to consider moral quandaries or consequences other than the source of their next meal. Some individuals, have managed to train such mimics after a fashion, in so far as they can encourage a mimic to stay in one area and desist from attacking them in exchange for food. Such “tame” mimics generally behave in a similar manner to their wild counterparts, but are placed by their master’s within homes to mislead and slay burglars.

Some mimics however, a rare few, have intellect beyond that of a simple guard beast. A unique handful of mimics develop a greater intelligence and even a capacity to speak languages of local people. This appears not to be a separate breed of mimics, but a unique capacity that all mimics have the potential to unlock, but few do, seemingly finding no need to develop enhanced intelligence when they can just as easily exist as a mindless ambush predator.  Even when a mimic does become intelligent enough to talk, her interests normally remain fairly narrow and unphilosophical, mostly centred around food or, occasionally, treasure. As far as morality goes, a mimic smart enough to give it consideration may or may not develop qualms about eating people unprovoked. If she does, she may instead gain food by withholding important information about her territory until adventurers feed her.

Some consider intelligent mimics not to be the unusual offshoots of mimic-kind but the original mimic state, with this ancestral sapience being suppressed over the generations as mimics became increasingly feral. This apparent fall from intelligence also hints at the instability of a mimics nature, pointing to their existence being somewhat artificial. While the original source of mimics is not known, most agree that it was probably the result of arcane experimentation and intensive breeding by wizards or some other spellcaster, most likely with the intent that it guard their treasure before they escaped. While a mimic’s true form can resemble and opaque ooze, their basis seems a lot more animal, with their bodies being made up of boneless flesh and blood. Unlike many arcane hybrids, such as griffons and owlbears, mimics lack any physical characteristics to further specify the beasts that went into their creation save for the fact that they may have been a mix of mammals an molluscs.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mimics

Mimics are, for the most part, highly solitary creatures. While their habit of disguising themselves as inanimate objects makes a headcount difficult, one is unlikely to run into more than one or two in the same ruin. For the longest time, this isolationism led most scholars of monster lore to assume that like oozes, the sexual assets of a mimic played no role in their reproduction, and that mimics must, like the oozes they are often falsely compared to, breed by division.

However, mimics are internally more akin to beasts than oozes and closer observation has found that mimics do, on occasion, breed sexually. Generally moving under the cover of darkness, how exactly mimics find each other beyond random chance is unknown. When two mimics meet, they seem to be hesitant to fuck, less so out of fear of each other but because of how movement breaks their disguises. So as to avoid being attacked, mimics seem to mate only when they believe themselves to be completely alone and unobserved, with their sexual intercourse often lasting only minutes at most. Most mimics seem to stick to object form while mating, so that they can freeze and reduce the likelihood of being identified should they be caught mid-fuck.

Able to compress and contort her body entirely, a mimic’s pregnancy is impossible to detect visually and as such no solid determination of how long it lasts has been made. Again seeming to wait until they are completely unobserved, mimics seem to birth anywhere from one to six offspring in a litter, generally no larger than apples. Young mimics tend to stick close to their mother for a few years after birth to feed off of her kills, often disguising themselves as incidental items to avoid detection or to enhance their mother’s deceptions. Young mimics often seek independence once they reach the size of a footstool or small coffer, seeking to disperse out to avoid competing with their parents or siblings for prey.

Men to Mimics

When it comes to the average, unintelligent mimic, it seems men are hard pressed to persuade her into willingly fucking them. Generally, a mimic will show the same predatory response to a male creature’s behaviour. Whether this suggests that a common, feral mimic cannot differentiate men from women or simply doesn’t care is unknown. Short of violently rendering a mimic unconscious or magically paralysing her, fucking a mic against her will can be a threatening challenge since she can almost limitlessly bend and contort her shape, making lining up one’s cock with her pussy and avoiding her teeth into a complicated challenge. The value and ethics of impregnating a feral mimic are debated here and there. An impregnated mimic gives birth to more mimics regardless of what it was impregnated by, and unless imprisoned, these offspring will disperse, adding to the overall mimic threat. Some say that mimics born of humanoid fathers have a greater chance to develop intelligence and thus possibly behave in a more moral fashion, but this theory is largely unconfirmed.

When it comes to intelligent mimics, reactions to men may be more varied. A mimic may fear men, trying to remain unseen in a man’s presence for fear of getting raped, or using this fear as justification to try and eat him. Other mimics may be fascinated by men, often lacking any social restraint, stopping them from coming right out and sexually propositioning them. Most intelligent mimics have a more casual, middle of the road approach to men noting their sexual capabilities but generally treating them like any other adventurer, though sometimes open to being seduced or fucked in exchange for food and gifts. A mimic’s intelligence seems to have little baring on the intelligence of their offspring, however, and the parenting behaviour of intelligent mimics does not vary much from their feral counterparts, making intelligent mimic breeding rife with the same ethical queries as impregnating their unintelligent sisters.

Being descended from unnatural, magically assisted crossbreeding of many natural beasts, mimics should, assumedly, carry the same potential to occasionally birth males as hippogriffs and the like. However, there are no reliable reports of male mimics being encountered. This absence is among the many factors that have led to mimics being falsely categorised as oozes in the past. Why male mimics don’t exist is a mystery, some suggesting that the ancient mages who made the first mimics somehow removed the potential to birth males from mimics since a big, hard cock is much harder to hide than a pussy and compressible pair of tits. Others say that male mimics may exist, but their rarity and the mimic’s power to hide may make them prohibitively hard to find.

Chapter 187: Mind Flayer

Known also as the illithids, mind flayers are calculating, inhuman creatures that lurk in the darkest, unseen corners of the world and, if the ravings of the insane are to be believed, in amongst the inky blackness of the stars. In form, mind flayers are normally quite frail in build, with rubbery, slimy skin and bald, cephalopodic heads equipped with tentacles. Despite their rather unimposing bodies, even a single mind flayer is an astounding threat with the power of immense psionics, a supernatural force distinct from magic that brims forth from their brilliant, if coldly alien, mind. Often cloistered together in hidden retreats, mind flayers plot endlessly to reach out and control all of creation, dominating all life beneath them as thralls and sources of nutritious, pliable brains.

Thought for Food

Among the most well-known features of a mind flayer is their kind’s horrific diet. As a matter of biological necessity but also as a matter of personal pleasure, mind flayers must routinely extract and devour the brains of intelligent creatures, mostly humanoids, but any sufficiently intelligent, brain-possessed being can do so if available. While a mind flayer can consume other foods, only sapient brains seem to contain the right concentration of nervous tissue, neurochemical fluids, and psychic presence to sustain them long-term. A mind flayer’s feeding methods are swift and sickeningly simple. Either at range or transmitted through their tentacles, the mind flayers psychically assault the mind of their victim, often rendering them unconscious or at least stunning them to reduce how much they can struggle. Their prey unable to fight back, the mind flayer proceeds to engulf the top of their head and release a chemical capable of dissolving all non-neurological tissues between the mind flayer and the target’s brain, creating a hole out of which it can be easily extracted.

When seeking some more variety in their diet, mind flayers may venture out to stalk creatures like drow or deep gnomes, or even come to the surface by cover of night for some truly exotic prey. However, most mind flayer colonies have a more reliable supply to fall back on in the form of thralls. Somewhere between livestock and supernaturally controlled slaves, thralls are creatures, typically savage humanoids such as grimlocks, quagoths, orcs, and goblinoids, who have been subjected to the power of mind flayer psionic domination so often that they have essentially lost all personal will, becoming little more than puppets to the illithids’ telepathic commands. As well as being a handy source of brains when free-ranging sapient beings prove too hazardous or inconvenient to attain, thralls also make acceptable sources of brute labour and expendable troops, mindlessly throwing themselves against those that would do their masters harm, giving the mind flayers time to escape or ready a devastating counterattack.

While relying on thralls for most heavy lifting, mind flayers are hardly helpless creatures. A mind flayer can unleash the power of their vast minds as manifest phenomena known as psionics. Though similar in effect to certain magics, psionics are in fact a wholly different act, able to function even under conditions where magic is suppressed and requiring no action on the user’s part beyond an act of thought. Most mind flayers consider their psionic gifts to be evidence of their racial superiority, deriding those that attempt to imitate their powers through magic and considering those mind flayers willing to use magic to be deficient and incorrectly functioning malcontents.

Everyday use of psionics for a mind flayer includes communication via telepathy, their preferred method of talking to each other and others since it circumvents the need to learn multiple languages, and though mind flayers can technically speak out loud, the act requires some discomforting repositioning of their tentacles to act as a tongue and vocal cords, parts that they lack. When the one they wish to mentally contact is not forthcoming with certain information, a mind flayer’s telepathy is strong enough to forcibly extract thoughts against their target’s will. Mind flayers can also levitate at will, causing many of their strongholds to contain vertical shafts in place of stairs to stymie intruders.

Offensively, mind flayers fight by ruthlessly striking at a victim’s psyche with their own vast intellect. The mucus of a mind flayer’s skin is powerfully conductive of psychic power, letting them unleash blunt psychic force with the merest touch. With a little more effort, this psychic assault can be unleashed as a blast capable of killing or incapacitating whole squads of enemies or focused like a scalpel on a single target, assuming direct control like they are a thrall. If a mind flayer is outmatched, they can normally make one last ditch effort to escape by willing themselves into another plane of existence.

Conquest of Reality

Though there are occasional renegades and lone agents, most mind flayers work in a deeply regimented society. At the bottom rug of this society are the mind flayer’s thralls, useful but ultimately expendable to their superior’s needs. Above them are the mind flayers themselves. Among themselves, mind flayers are generally seen as equals to each other, with authority in situations being based on expertise, with each illithid given responsibility to maintain or research a certain aspect considered important to the group's continuation and the advancement of their plans. Collating these plans and ruling over the whole coalition of mind flayers is a psionic powerhouse known as an elder brain, kept floating in a brine pool central to the illithid stronghold. Though the minutia of mind flayer intentions is likely varied and inscrutable to mortal minds, the overall intention of the illithid race seems to be rather straightforward; the mind flayers seek conquest. In the mind flayer’s ideal world, they would be the uncontested rulers of all planes and worlds, with everything else being reduced to serfs and thralls.

Thankfully, mind flayers seem to have seen little success in their goals. A far cry from the planes-spanning empires the mind flayers envision, mind flayers are generally restrained to small, arguably pathetic refuges, often in the underdark’s deepest, least explored recesses. However, these conclaves are strangely unaligned with the reports of races who know the mind flayer’s best. Many races, such as the duergar and the gith, owe their current state to periods of enslavement by the mind flayers. Many of those who suffered recall living under the yoke of far more powerful, extensive societies with capabilities far beyond those of the impoverished mind flayers we know.

With stunningly few ruins to suggest the mind flayers reached such heights, one has to wonder where the glory of the illithids went. In studying their biology and habits, many sages believe that mind flayers can trace their history out of the bounds of reality, beyond logic and time in the Far Realm. In keeping with this aberrant origin, certain mind flayer technologies seem able to warp the fabric of reality. Therefore, it is thought that when the great mind flayer empire was overthrown, their slaves not only sought to defeat their masters but also used their technology to utterly erase them from time. However, with their past rooted firmly outside of reality, alterations in reality can only reduce the illithid scourge, not erase it entirely.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mind Flayers

At first glance, mind flayers seem utterly cold and unfeeling. However, it seems that mind flayers are simply highly restrained, working hard to keep the emotions they do feel from making them act suboptimally. Mind flayers are enraged when defied, frightened when genuinely threatened, and disgusted by inefficiency. Positive emotions, such as love, however, do seem to be severely lacking in the mind flayer psyche, along with lust or any such desire for sexual pleasure. While they seem capable of feeling the sensation of it, illithids generally seem to see sex as an intermediary necessity rather than an aim in and of itself. Aside from a few mind flayers who choose to research sex as a topic, seen variously as respected specialists or worrying deviants depending on how useful their findings appear, mind flayers generally see only one worthwhile use for sexual activity, reproduction.

As farmers do with their livestock, mind flayers compel their thralls to breed with each other from time to time to maintain numbers. With how mentally empty thralls tend to be from lives of total psionic domination, mind flayers often have to directly command specific thralls to mate through telepathy. Thanks to the one-to-one nature of telepathy, often two mind flayers have to work together in thrall breeding, essentially psychically fucking each other through telepathy. Even if thralls had the mental faculties to fuck each other without instructions, mind flayers would likely still prefer personal involvement so as to ensure matings were in service to the encouragement of desired thrall traits rather than trifles such as love or attraction.

Mind flayers will also fuck each other on occasion when they want to produce more of each other. As with their thralls, mind flayers choose to have sex with others for purely rational reasons, attempting to produce the most superior offspring regardless of personal feelings. A few days after some rather clinical sex, a pregnant mind flayer approaches the brine pool of her colony’s elder brain and lays a clutch of hundreds of eggs into the fluid. After a rather short incubation period, the eggs hatch not into juvenile illithids but into tiny lamprey-like worms known as tadpoles. Though external food is provided by the colony’s mind flayers, brine pool tadpoles live in a horrendously violent life of constant competition where smaller tadpoles must avoid being cannibalised by their elders and bigger tadpoles run the risk of being eaten by the elder brain itself. Only around one in one thousand ilithid tadpoles survive their first decade, growing to about three inches long, and any that last much longer are hunted by the elder brain by preference, virtually guaranteeing their demise.

To avoid a cannibalistic end, a tadpole must be selected for the second, grimmer stage of the mind flayer life cycle, known as ceremorphosis. Though a variety of horrific aberrant creatures can be produced by subjecting various non-standard victims to the process, truly reproductive ceremorphosis requires a host to be one of a select few humanoid races, including humans, elves, gith, hobgoblins, and orcs. Generally, with the host restrained, a mind flayer takes a mature, decade-old tadpole and inserts it into the victim’s eye, ear, nose, or similar orifice. Instantaneously, the tadpole burrows into the victim’s brain and begins to devour what it finds there, swelling to essentially replace what it devours. Externally, the host’s body warps and changes until, in a little under seven days, the host has become a new mind flayer, inside and out.

Men to Mind Flayers

Like many beings from the far realm, mind flayers seem to be creatures distinct from the naturally gendered part of our world who have had gender and the sexual assets associated with it thrust upon them. Even the act of sex itself that they must do to create more tadpole eggs seems rather foreign and ungainly, suggesting that no aspect of sex is natural to them. Some theorise that mind flayers only need sex to reproduce in our world, unlike other aberrations such as flumphs and aboleths, because they operate in bodies stolen from sexually reproducing humanoids.

All of this is to say that mind flayers seem to struggle when it comes to fully comprehending the male mindset along with emotions tied closely to it such as lust, adoration, or fear of rape. On the one hand, trying to seduce a mind flayer is a basically impossible task. If a mind flayer wants something from a man, they will either take it or, if force is not a viable option, they may bargain with him. Once a mind flayer has what they want from a man, they have no issues severing any feigned affection to either turn on the man or simply abandon him.

On the other end of the spectrum, mind flayers seem almost impossible to psychologically break through force, including rape. A raped mind flayer may be enraged or briefly afraid, but is never truly threatened by unwanted sex alone or rendered irrational through physical sensation, though a canny mind flayer may pantomime such things to get a man’s guard down.

Outside of direct conflict, mind flayers approach men in a variety of ways. Many are simply ambivalent, considering men to have no meaningful difference compared to the other creatures under their concern. Others seem to find men fascinating, treating them as unique research specimens of which they wish to record behavioural notes or simply study the dissected organs of.

A not inconsiderable number of mind flayers seem to outright hate men, considering them a blight on existence that must be blotted out for their empire to advance. However, unlike many misandrist cultures, such as the drow, mind flayers seem to hate gender as a whole, merely considering men to be overly representative of the blight gender represents in their eyes. While many illithids seem to simply shrug and go about with their schemes while trying to ignore their breasts and pussies, a few mind flayer colonies seem preoccupied on projects that aim to eliminate sex and gender from their race and possibly from all reality besides. Seeing as such an act would ultimately require the deposition of the overgoddess Nymphona herself, these mind flayers have thankfully seen little progress.

As with all aberrant creatures brought over to reality, mind flayer tadpoles are all breast-bearing females. However, when a tadpole is inserted into a host and undergoes the transformation from creature to parasitic organ, it does not transmit its goddess-enforced femininity to its victim. As such, a mind flayer’s sex is determined not by the sex of its tadpole but by the sex of whatever poor soul was transformed by it. Therefore, male mind flayers can exist when a man is subjected to ceremorphosis.

Ceremorphosis is a rare fate for men defeated by mind flayers; their uniqueness normally results in death by experimentation, but when a mind flayer decides to test what will become of a man subjected to tadpole insertion, the result is shockingly, horrifically, ordinary. While a male mind flayer lacks breasts and has a cock, he generally seems utterly devoid of the many mental and personality traits that seem in most males to be necessarily masculine. Instead, they are essentially identical in mindset to their female counterparts, including a largely negative or at least disinterested view of sex. Even people who despise men for their overt sexuality tend to describe the male mind flayer as a hunting mockery of what a man should be. Still, a male mind flayer can have sex when it proves advantageous to him, and there are various records of strange, half-aberrant offspring resulting from male mind flayers impregnating other creatures.

Chapter 188: Minotaur

Bastions of bestial rage, a minotaur is a monster of unnatural savagery, tempered with just enough humanoid intellect to direct their violence to the most destructive of ends. In form, a minotaur resembles a towering biped with the head, hooves, and fur of cattle. Despite these herbivorous features, a minotaur is a bloodstained predator, using hoof, horn, and their sheer brute strength to tear apart and devour any prey that crosses their path.

Labyrinthine Stalkers

Not being the fastest of creatures, lacking an effective quadrupedal gait in favour of wielding axes and other large weapons, minotaurs generally catch their prey through a mixture of ambush and dogged pursuit. The preferred natural habitats of minotaurs are places like cave systems, dense forests, and craggy badlands, places where one can easily get turned around. In these places, a minotaur’s more moderate speed is less of a hindrance, and they can make use of their more subtle abilities.

On average, a minotaur’s intelligence is generally limited to the lower bounds of what one may consider humanoid intellect. A regular minotaur may be able to sputter out a few brutish words in their own primitive language, derived from Abyssal, the language of demons. Being able to speak full sentences in Abyssal or even a smattering of words in the common tongue is the mark of a relative genius by minotaur standards. Despite this, minotaurs are highly aware creatures, in tune with their surroundings, with senses so sharp that little can evade them.

As well as having keen sight, hearing, and smell, a minotaur also has another powerful sense that is less commonly considered: their sense of direction. A minotaur instinctually remembers every path they have ever walked, developing a faultless mental map of their territory. In the simplest terms, a minotaur on familiar ground can simply never get lost by natural means. When a minotaur senses prey in their territory, they pursue it through the twists and turns, herding their victim to a dead end where they will have no choice but to fight or die. Against the common sense of most natural creatures, minotaurs generally prefer prey that attempts the former than accepts the latter.

While minotaurs need their prey’s flesh to eat, minotaurs also have a deeply ingrained lust for the brutality of combat that almost outweighs their physical hunger. While minotaurs generally have enough self-preservation to not charge headfirst into battles they simply cannot win, they do have a preference for prey that fights back, such as predatory beasts, vicious monsters, and adventurers. To increase their likelihood of meeting the latter two kinds of enemies, many minotaurs make their home in ruins, dungeons, and the like. Not only do other monsters and adventurers often find themselves in such places, but a minotaur’s perfect mental map makes them experts at patrolling such places.

This expertise encourages some to try and recruit or enslave minotaurs as guardians of their strongholds and treasure vaults. Such employment is no mean feat; minotaurs chafe under any form of authority and are driven to rebel violently against those that would seek to tame them. Sometimes, orcish hordes or hobgoblin legions can briefly recruit a few minotaurs to their side as devastating berserker units in a battle or two by the promise of fresh meat and appalling violence. Longer associations often require the threat of annihilation, either from above as a physically devastating commander presses them into service or from without, with external threats encouraging minotaurs to tolerate each other enough to form a war herd.

Herd of the Horned Queen

As may not be surprising, a creature as unnecessarily brutal and violent as a minotaur does not owe its existence to the natural world. Instead, minotaurs trace their lineage back to the Abyss, namely to the Demon Lord Baphomet, the Horned Queen, Princess of Beasts. Having made the minotaurs in her own image, Baphomet’s form is reminiscent of a minotaur of astounding size, crowned with horns, nostrils fuming with unending rage. The Horned Queen is not just a devastating brute; however, she is also, simultaneously, a keenly dangerous intellect. In her own words, Baphomet is the perfect union of thinking being and savage beast, directed in perfect harmony to the cause of ruin.

Baphomet does not make minotaurs by her own hand, however, but through her demonic cults. Like many cults, a cult of Baphomet rarely starts out with open worship. Instead, it usually starts with individuals posing as enlightened hermits, often claiming to be druids or rangers, who call out to gather people dissatisfied with various less pleasant trappings of society, such as taxation, overly stringent laws, or cumbersome traditions. These charismatic leaders encourage such people to reject the yoke of civilisation, returning to a primal state where they may live, hunt, and rut like animals.

Over time, the cult’s bestial practices will grow more violent. Basic subsistence hunts will transform into ritual bloodsports in the name of the wild; internal disputes will be settled by increasingly aggressive shows of force, and those that refuse to follow the ways of the wild will eventually go from shunned to hunted and sacrificed in Baphomet’s name. Once the cult is fully realised, its members will build or adapt nearby forests and caves into a labyrinthine temple through which they can hunt abducted victims, mimicking Baphomet’s abyssal layer, the Endless Maze. As the cultists hunt the innocent on their bloodstained, desecrated ground, they take on more and more of their patron’s aspects until, quite suddenly, transforming into a minotaur.

With even less tolerance for tradition and hierarchy than humanoid cultists, minotaurs seldom do more than pay lip service to Baphomet. A minotaur may remain with a cult of Baphomet should they continue to bring it victims to pursue, but it is just as likely to simply leave. Outside of the simple pleasure they bring her through their indiscriminate violence, minotaurs generally do not offer Baphomet more than the most basic forms of worship unless they expect to receive some immediately tangible reward for doing so or a punishment for their refusal. A few minotaurs receive magical boons from Baphomet, making them priests of a sort, but most of the time, Baphomet simply seems happy to let her creations roam. Only on very rare occasions does a demonic vassal or omen of the Horned Queen make its presence known, calling minotaurs together to enact her bloody will as one.

Sex and Sexuality Among Minotaurs

Though minotaurs can arise from the spontaneous transformation of Baphomet’s most brutal cultists, most living minotaurs were born as what they are. As befitting the Princess of Beasts, Baphomet made her creations not only murderous but also rapacious and capable of breeding true. As such, minotaurs can create more of their kind by fucking each other along with a collection of humanoid races, including humans, orcs, and elves.

Minotaurs can, therefore, breed by raping their victims. This does happen, but generally less often than is imagined. Once engaged in battle, a minotaur generally enters a state of blood fury that doesn’t subside until she or her opponent is dead, leaving little time for her to rape or impregnate them should she get the upper hand. Only if a minotaur’s victim is too weak to even try fighting back and she isn’t particularly hungry may she drag them back to her lair as breeding stock. Other occasions where minotaurs may breed with a humanoid are during the brief times they find themselves “allied” with them, such as when they are recruited into an orc warband or worshipped by a cult of Baphomet. In these cases, the sex and impregnation are less a matter of intentional reproduction and more an act of frustration at her inability to kill those she is fighting alongside.

Far more often, minotaurs breed among themselves. Generally, minotaurs do not see each other as prey in the same way they do most other potential mates and also do not usually kill each other without some form of provocation, light as it may be. As such, minotaurs can tolerate each other as neighbours or even stalk the same territory. Sometimes, if their enemies are powerful enough, minotaurs may even band together in a war herd. These situations all provide situations where minotaurs can cross paths and breed. Fitting their nature, sex between minotaurs is violent, animalistic, often injurious, and usually an overtly rapacious act of domination by the stronger impregnator against the weaker impregnated.

Minotaurs and those they impregnate generally have pregnancies of a similar length and nature to a human’s, but the minotaur calf they give birth to is generally twice the size and far more developed, making birth significantly more painful and injurious for non-minotaur mothers. Young minotaurs grow up fast, generally able to walk and feed themselves at ten months, kill a full-grown orc by five, and reach their own full adulthood only five years later. Minotaurs generally pride themselves on how many offspring they can impregnate others with but have no interest in raising their own children; they thus bully and threaten the mothers of their calves into doing most of the child rearing for them.

Men to Minotaurs

Seeing impregnation as the right of the stronger party and pregnancy as the tax a weakling must pay to live, minotaurs see males, beings who specialise in impregnation with no ability to get pregnant in return, as offensively presumptuous, especially men of races who are in no way guaranteed to be a minotaur’s physical superior. Minotaurs will generally show a reasonable amount of deference to male creatures of notable power, such as giants, dragons, and fellow monstrosities, even submitting to being their breeding stock if it manages to overwhelm them in battle. Humanoids, on the other hand, are far from appearing as worthy foes in a minotaur’s mind, and since a man cannot be bred, a minotaur’s aim on encountering a man is purely to kill and eat him.

Of course, many humanoids, men included, can be more than they seem and may turn the tables on a minotaur, a man proving himself to be more than a match for her after all. Minotaurs seem much more given to continuing resistance against a humanoid man’s attempts to fuck them compared to male monsters, however, sometimes even fighting to the death to avoid it, though most minotaurs will sooner be fucked into submission eventually. This reticence may be from the simple disconnect of being defeated by a being smaller than her compared to a fellow large monster, the minotaur’s simple mind simply refusing to accept dominance from something so much physically less than her.

There may be another reason, however. Some tales say that the child of a minotaur impregnated by a man uncorrupted by the Abyss’ influence may give birth to a slightly less abyssally charged calf. Though the initial difference is hard to tell, there are legends of a king of a distant archipelago who consistently bred the minotaurs that plagued his lands until Baphomet’s influence was all but gone from them, giving rise to a lineage of minotaurs that, while not as huge and overpowering as their demon-touched relatives, were strong, stalwart, bold, and equipped with the same capacity for intellect and morality as any other humanoid race. Some claim to have met these seagoers, but their existence is still debated.

Back on the mainland, among those minotaurs still under Baphomet’s claim, males are born only occasionally. Doubly compelled to dominate, male minotaurs are particularly ferocious, looking almost from birth for prey to consume and victims to rape. If this unilateral aggression doesn’t get them killed early, a male minotaur often grows into a force to be reckoned with, taking mates of all kinds; a male minotaur breeds indiscriminately. At the same time, the minotaur retains his daughters too, keeping them as additional breeding stock. In this way, the male minotaur builds a war herd around himself, growing an army that can eventually thunder out of its domains in search of yet more meat to devour and wombs to fill.

Chapter 189: Modrons

In the Outer Planes, the majority of residents of a given plane tend to be beings fundamentally representative of the plane’s moral and philosophical representation. In the Upper Planes, celestials embody the goodness inherent in their homes, while fiends of the Lower Planes express the dauntless evil of their domains. However, there are a few outer planes that represent neither good nor evil, where neither celestial nor fiend can claim true dominion. One such location is the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus.

Mechanus is the plane of law, the purest expression of complete order in reality, not fettered by the pedantic compromises of good as angels are and not sullied by the selfish distraction of evil as afflicts devils. It is a realm made up of precisely turning gears and regular incrementation, all inhabited and maintained by its local lifeforms, the modrons. Appearing as strange unions of living flesh and machines of brass and tin, a modron is, in essence, a pure expression of Mechanus’ inherent order, exerted within the plane and beyond. There are many types of modrons with increasing levels of complexity, suited to different tasks. While the following chapters will cover the five most common types of modron in more detail, this chapter will cover modrons as a whole.

Cogs of Primus

As beings of absolute law, the modrons’ hierarchy and the role of an individual modron is absolute. The hierarchy of modrons is also fairly linear; a modron’s rank is not so much a mark of prestige as simply a designation of their and their role’s complexity. Lower-ranked modrons are more plentiful but are also only capable of simple, more generalised tasks; as the rank goes higher, the modrons become less numerous but also more capable and powerful. At the very top of this chain of growing power and reducing numbers is the one and only Primus.

A goddess in all but name, Primus is the ultimate representation of law in reality. With a fundamental understanding of how the planes function that outstrips even many deities, Primus sees herself as the primary custodian of balance across the planes, and in aid of this responsibility, she sends her commands down the ranks to each and every modron. Primus does not send this directive directly, however.

Scholars often say that modrons have a race-wide language, the series of beeps and whirs they communicate with each other in; however, it may be more accurate to say that each rank of modron has its own language, understandable by itself and the modrons immediately above and below it in rank. If, for example, a tridrone wanted to give orders to a monodrone, a modron two ranks below it, the monodrone’s mind would be too simple to comprehend the tridrone’s vocabulary, and the tridrone would be too complex to parse the simplistic code the monodrone speaks in; they would need a duodrone, the modron in the rank between them, to relay the order.

Without orders down from Primus, a modron has no motivation or desire to do anything besides await new orders to come in. Except in astronomically rare conditions, considered abhorrent by the race at large, a modron will never develop any sense of individuality, personal desire, or goals beyond following the orders of Primus. With Primus’ orders delivered, however, a modron seeks to fulfil them to the letter. So utterly complete is a modron’s dedication to her orders that no force beyond new directives from Primus herself can sway a modron from her task, not even the most powerful of enchantments.

With total dedication to their present role and no sense of personal desire, modrons do not seek promotion in the same way other hierarchy-bound individuals, such as devils and mortal institution workers, may. There is a specific number of each kind of modron in existence at any one time, though this number is undoubtedly immense among the lower ranks and likely only known to the modrons themselves. Even the lowliest modron is technically ageless and has no need for food, water, or air, letting them exist perpetually in theory. Still, all modrons, even (theoretically) Primus herself, can be destroyed in battle or through mishap. When a modron meets their end in this way, their body disintegrates, and the nearest modron of the rank immediately below them instantly goes up a rank, transforming in a flash of light to their new rank’s form. This causes a similar transformation in the nearest modron below them, causing a chain reaction of rapid promotion until a monodrone, the lowest-ranked modron, promotes to a duodrone, the rank above it. When the number of monodrones in existence drops below the specified number, either through promotions or a monodrone’s demise, Primus spontaneously gives birth to a monodrone, continuing to do so until the exact correct number is reached. Thanks to the sheer number of modrons and the fact that the conflicts available for them to get caught up in, Primus is usually in near-constant labour, though this endless birthing doesn’t seem to distract from her other duties.

The Modron March

Most of the time, modrons only have a moderate presence on the planes beyond Mechanus. Primus seems to believe that as long as the gears of her plane keep turning as they should, law will radiate across the rest of reality, needing only very rare direct interventions to patch chaotic intrusions. Other than that, modrons generally stick to their own plane. There is, however, one notable exception.

Every two hundred and eighty-nine years, the gears of Mechanus complete their seventieth cycle, returning the largest gear to its starting position. This event apparently triggers the interplanar event known as the Great Modron March. In uncountable legions, the modrons leave Mechanus for Arcadia, followed by Mount Celestia, Bitopia, and so on, making a full tour of the Outer Planes, marching in rank. The modrons do not come to invade, fighting only in self-defence and leaving as soon as they arrive, simply seeming to march on through.

Especially as they get to the more chaotic and evil planes, the modrons suffer immense losses, yet the survivors go on completely undeterred, with the benefit of numbers and probability making the return of at least some survivors all but a mathematical certainty despite the reparations of slaadi, demons, and angry goddesses.

Even in places where the modrons are not assaulted on sight, their march is an oddly chaotic event for the race meant to represent the inherent lawfulness of Mechanus. Wherever the march goes, thoroughfares are choked, fields are trampled, and natives are rudely interrupted. Though they are normally spared, it is not unheard of for a detachment of the Modron March to get turned around and end up in the Inner or even Material Plane, where their unexpected arrival can cause quite a stir indeed. One must therefore ask why. Why would the modrons, an ostensibly neutral race, actively choose to waste so much energy and expend so many of their own just to inconvenience the rest of creation every two hundred and eighty-nine years?

Most people assume that the Great Modron March is a scouting mission of sorts, a grand census of the planes with each modron taking mental notes of the goings-on they see and returning back to Primus with the information to use for reasons unknown. Others think that it is a form of calibration, the great mass of order that the modrons represent, by its presence, helping to smooth over any irregularities in the planes they pass through. Some think that the massive loss of modron life is the point, and like a valve, Primus must induce a flurry of monodrone births in herself every now and then to release the pressure and maintain her immaculate condition.

Sex and Sexuality Among Modrons

In most situations, a modron’s interest in sex is virtually non-existent. Modrons generally do not breed, instead relying on Primus alone to maintain their immense population. Even Primus, who gives birth frequently, has never been described as having sex by a reliable source. As for sex for pleasure, normal modrons have no drive to seek out personal pleasure, and as such, the personal sensations of sex are immaterial to a modron’s decisions to have it. If a modron willingly has sex, it is normally because she has received a command to do so from above because a higher modron has decided that a modron having sex in the given situation is beneficial to fulfilling the dictates of Primus. Thanks to the overall non-sexual nature of Primus’s mission, these commands are rarely given, and when they are, it is generally hard for non-modrons to understand the action’s necessity, especially since modrons rarely make a habit of explaining themselves to others.

Though not very sexual in and of themselves, modrons do seem at least somewhat interested in the natural laws that surround sex and seem to subtly work against those that would seek to defy them, particularly through magic. Every so often, some mage or cult will attempt to create something that goes against the laws of reality set down by Nymphona, such as magic to rid themselves of breasts or change their physical sex. While modron’s rarely go to war over these actions, likely knowing they are foredoomed to failure, one will sometimes find a few modrons subtly sabotaging their efforts. Whether this is out of any loyalty Primus and thus the modrons have to Nymphona directly or in order to avoid the often chaotic ramifications of events where Nymphona has felt the need to actively intervene is unknown.

Of course, these trends are only true for the vast majority of modrons, those with properly functioning minds in line with Primus’ directives. There is another sort. Either by exposure to chaotic energies of other planes or by a lack of proper maintenance, modrons can very, very rarely begin to develop personal complexes that cause them to deviate from the perfect order of Primus. These so-called rogue modrons are disliked and actively hunted by their axiomatic brethren, forcing them to flee to other planes where they tend to adopt varied personas and become notable characters wherever they settle. With their own unique personalities, rogue modrons can have a range of reactions to sex, from complete disgust to licentious delight.

Men to Modrons

As beings born of the fundamental expression of Mechanus’ law, Primus, without the incorporation of a man’s soul, Modrons are, like heaven-made angels and abyss-spawned demons, an entirely female race. This suits the modrons just fine; after all, a male modron would likely have an inbuilt preoccupation with sex, increasing the risk of him going rogue.

Being all female doesn’t give modrons any particular sense of enmity towards men. Indeed, modrons seem surprisingly pro-men, at least as a whole. Just as they will with attempts to sabotage those looking to break Nymphona’s few laws, modrons will work against credible plots to eliminate masculinity on a wide scale. While modrons are hardly enthusiastic in their defence of mankind and generally do not care if individual men live or die, any group working against forces looking to destroy men on at least a nationwide scale can generally expect any modrons they come across to be mostly on their side.

When it comes to actually having sex with men, most modrons generally consider the activity to be a pointless waste of time that they have no reason to take part in. Unless they have some mysterious directive that would benefit from a modron fucking a man, a modron will choose to avoid sex with him. Though seduction, persuasion, and magical charms will never sway a modron’s decision, continuing pestering might. With no sense of personal dignity or self-respect, a modron who considers the most expedient way to get a man to cooperate or simply leave them alone is to have sex with him and will do so without a second thought. However, if it becomes more expedient to incapacitate or kill him, a modron will normally do that instead with the same lack of hesitation.

Given their partially mechanical state and the fact they were not made with reproduction in mind, modrons are fairly difficult to impregnate. If a man is successful in impregnating a modron, she will, a matter of hours later, give birth to a fully grown monodrone, the least complex kind of modron. One may think that this would eventually overinflate the monodrone population, but Primus, in her wisdom, is aware of every monodrone birth, even those she didn’t perform. As such, if the number of monodrones in existence goes over the allotted number, Primus can simply wait for modrons to die of various causes and not resume birthing monodrones until the count goes under the desired amount once more. Despite essentially giving her a break from giving birth, Primus does not seem to appreciate her modrons being impregnated all that greatly.

Chapter 190: Monodrone

Possibly existing in their hundreds of millions, or even billions, monodrones are the most basic units the modrons possess, their spherical bodies rolling out of Primus’ vagina at a near constant rate of birthing. Often working under a Duodrone’s watchful eyes, monodrones tend to be hurled at any issue the powers of Mechanus perceive in expendable droves. On their home plane, monodrones can be seen carrying out all manner of menial tasks, completing every function of their realm’s maintenance that does not call for the intricacies of an advanced mind or for any form of creativity. Outside of Mechanus, a monodrone will either watch goings-on with complete passivity or combat the forces of chaos with exacting precision and no concern for its own well-being or for mercy.

Single Task Servitors

To call a monodrone’s mind simple is to massively overcredit it and push the definition of a mind. If one were to read a monodrone’s thoughts, they would find their current instructions and nothing else. With simply no mental capacity beyond their immediate function, a monodrone given an order from a duodrone immediately forgets its prior task in favour of the newest one. Thanks to this, monodrones generally have nothing in the way of personalities or memories. Monodrones don’t even speak all that often, unless relaying a message given to them by a duodrone, typically to another duodrone.

Being utterly bound to their single immediate task, with no internal consideration of the intent, goal, or likely results of their actions, a monodrone completes their goal with what can, to other creatures, resemble a great deal of determination and focus. If a target has a defined end point, such as marching to a specific destination, a monodrone will complete her task and then stand at attention and mindlessly await further instructions, not shifting again until given the word. If the task is more open ended, such as to stand guard of an entrance or patrol an area, a monodrone will continue to perform her task until commanded to stop.

In truth, however, concepts like determination and personal drive are foreign to modrons, monodrones especially. A monodrone’s drive to complete a task appears wholehearted because the task literally takes up all of its mental capacity. A monodrone focuses on what she is doing because it is all she can think about and all she knows. As far as a monodrone is concerned, nothing outside of their current job and those empowered to give them orders exists. To say a monodrone is determined to complete her task is like saying a hammer, wielded by a builder, is determined to drive in a nail.

Despite their lack of ability to recall multiple orders, monodrones do apparently have a vast repertoire of skills built into them. Any given monodrone, if ordered to, can usually perform a surprising variety of artisanal crafts, from the clockwork devices that litter their realms to more surprising matters like weaving, cooking, and even painting. However, tasks that require the performer to speculate or imagine are beyond the capabilities of most monodrones. Monodrones set to draw or paint can only depict exactly what they are seeing or a few archetypal diagrams. Other crafts, such as clothes making, weapon-smithing, or the culinary arts, only churn out reams of identical, utilitarian products seemingly made to a template devised by Primus herself.

Swarming Soldiers

As with all other tasks they are set to, monodrones commanded to attack a target do so with the totality of their focus. As with many other arts, the art of combat seems built into the vast repertoire of a monodrone’s natural skills. With their long, narrow legs, precise hands, and small yet functional wings, a monodrone can call upon prewritten tactics to face all manner of opponents in all manner of battlefields with acceptable proficiency.

However, individual monodrones are far from a monstrous threat. With almost skeletal limbs, seemingly made of tin and brass, monodrones are not the strongest creatures, breaking even with an ordinary mortal at best. In terms of combative skills, a monodrone tends to fight with the expertise of one who has gone through only the most basic of mundane military training, and no matter how many centuries a monodrone experiences combat for, they lack the learning ability to learn from their past experience and become a better combatant. As such, monodrones rarely surprise those that have any experience in fighting them.

What monodrones lack in power and unpredictability, however, they make up for with their tenacity and their sheer, unadulterated numbers. Like with any other activities, a monodrone tasked with assaulting a target is utterly indissuadable from that goal. No force outside the modron chain of command can turn a monodrone from the path of violence: not an imposing foe, not physical damage, not even her own imminent destruction. With her one-track mind, a monodrone cannot even conceive of retreating or standing down until the very moment a duodrone orders her to do so. Since monodrones are so plentiful and easily replaced, Primus birthing a new one for each one destroyed, such orders of self-preservation are rarely given.

The true number of monodrones in existence at any one time is a mystery known only to Primus; however, it is fair to say that this number is immense, and the modrons are seldom lacking in their most plentiful members. As a result, monodrones make up the bulk of Mechanus’ armies and of the Great Modron March. When the modrons wish to attack something, they often just throw legions of monodrones, speckled with duodrones to command them, at the enemy. Knowing that the weapons of destroyed soldiers must be recovered or replaced, monodrones are often armed with light, low-cost equipment, like daggers and javelins. However, in their perfectly synchronised armies, the pathetic nature of an individual monodrone’s weapons barely matters as the force fights until it or the enemy is destroyed. In the latter case, the monodrones await their next target; in the former, there are always more to try again.

Sex and Sexuality Among Monodrones

Thanks to how modrons function and advance, it could tenuously be argued that monodrones are, in a way, the infant stage of the modron race. Primus, along with any modrons who happen to get pregnant by male interference, always gives birth to monodrones, and all modrons were, at the start of their existence, monodrones. Of course, the comparison isn’t perfect. For one thing, modrons do not physically age. A monodrone is born from Primus’s womb at the exact standard size of their kind and will not deviate from that size for any reason other than physical damage. In addition, promotion, the method by which modrons take on new, more advanced forms, is not determined by age but by proximity and convenience. A monodrone can persist for millennia without promoting, while, if the destruction of a greater modron happened close enough to Primus, a monodrone could hypothetically promote the moment she was born.

The process of monodrone birth from Primus is also a matter of some mystery. Primus, as far as scholars can tell, has always appeared heavily pregnant, and from reports, gives birth to a monodrone the very instant the population drops below her desired amount. However, given the widespread nature of modron operations and their apparent disregard for individual lives, Primus simply seems to be in a constant state of giving birth, with machinery set up to take her offspring to wherever they are needed. This thus leads to the question of when she had time to be impregnated with all her offspring.

Some say that Primus had a lover at some point in the very distant past, and that this lover used powerful divinatory powers to foresee exactly how many modrons Primus would need to complete her goals before impregnating her with that many monodrones exactly. A simpler theory is that Primus’ pregnancy and birthing technically isn’t that in the most accurate terms. Instead, Primus may be simply assembling monodrones from the fundamental forces of law or from her own power in a process that visually resembles giving birth, even though she is technically not pregnant, merely using her womb as a construction area of sorts.

As for monodrones themselves, they very rarely have sex. Driven only to fulfil their orders, monodrones have no thoughts about or drive to have sex unless they are ordered to by a duodrone, an order rarely given since it rarely serves a useful function in the modrons’ eyes. Still, when sex is necessary, monodrones are often called upon when there are many individuals that need fucking, since monodrones are plentiful and a contingent can thus be put aside to do the deed under a duodrone’s instruction. If told to fuck and left to their own devices, a monodrone generally either lets their partner do all the work or performs one of a repertoire of simple, repetitive sexual acts until a duodrone comes back and tells them to stop.

Men to Monodrones

To a monodrone, “male” is merely a designation. Unable to form expectations, a monodrone has no perspectives on men as a whole. While "man" can be used as an identifier in their orders, a monodrone will not change how she carries out her orders when targeting a man unless specifically instructed to.

This inflexibility in monodrone behaviour also means that monodrones are neither receptive nor hostile to a man’s sexual advances when approached directly. A monodrone will ignore a man’s requests to fuck; if he simply tries to take her, her response will vary based on what she is doing at the time. If her job is impaired by a man trying to fuck her, a monodrone will often simply try to escape his grip before immediately returning to her work, repeating this escape attempt every time he seizes her. If she has no task or is doing something that isn’t impeded by a man fucking her, she will normally impassively let him use her. A monodrone will normally only attack a man trying to fuck her if already ordered to attack him, although higher-ranked modrons who see a man fucking a monodrone while she is supposed to be working may order an attack on him to stop him from impeding their progress.

If a man goes to a monodrone’s superiors and manages to overcome the language barrier to ask for permission to fuck a monodrone, they will usually be refused unless there is some favour that can be provided in exchange. Typically this price is a labour that is too complicated to be entrusted to a monodrone. Other times, a superior modron may simply allow a monodrone to be fucked because they foresee the potential arguments and pestering a man may employ to be inconvenient, and giving the man temporary use of a monodrone is less of a waste of resources than efforts to drive him off. In the former case, a whole monodrone harem may be offered in exchange for the man’s assistance, possibly for a lengthy period of time with a duodrone in charge to keep them organised; in the latter, the modrons offer as few monodrones as possible for the briefest time with the most minimal oversight possible, so as to reduce the price they pay to avoid inconvenience.

Chapter 191: Duodrone

The rank immediately above the monodrones, duodrones are identifiable by their squarish, blocky bodies, all the way down to their breasts and buttocks being cubelike. With a little more mental complexity than their prior form, duodrones act as managers for short-term projects. Receiving their orders from a tridrone, a duodrone calculates how best to complete their mission and hands out orders to a squad of monodrones, supervising their activities and modulating instructions to enable a degree of flexibility should an unexpected turn take place.

Algorithmic Flexibility

The internal workings of a normal duodrone, in truth, are not all that different from those of a monodrone. Both are largely defined by their current order, acting more as tools for their superiors than people. However, where monodrones have the mental capacity for only one instruction at a time, forgetting their task the moment they are given another, duodrones can, within their minds, retain two orders at once. However, this singular upgrade does more than just double a duodrone’s potential labour output; it can instead, in a way, give the duodrone a degree of reactiveness and a sliver of creativity in their work.

When tridrones assign orders to their duodrone subordinates, they generally give each only a single order, though it is usually more complex than those given to a monodrone. Where a monodrone may be given the simple instruction to keep all non-modrons out of a specific building, a duodrone may be told to allow permitted guests to enter. With their primary order given and their secondary order free, duodrones are able to analyse the situation and the order they are given to determine what actions would best serve their primary goal, manifesting it as a self-ascribed secondary order to be performed themselves or delegated to monodrones.

Thanks to this rudimentary capacity for memory, a duodrone can reactively alter her behaviour and the behaviour of those she supervises to ensure the mission is completed. A duodrone tasked with leading a squad of monodrones on a delivery could, for example, notice a potential thief after their cargo and command her squad to attack. Once the threat is dealt with, the duodrone would remember her original task and remind her underlings, ordering them to resume the delivery route they had forgotten.

This somewhat persistent memory also enables duodrones to access a form of learning. By retaining a mental record of efforts put towards their primary order, a duodrone can recall what secondary orders were most useful in completing it in what situations. Through this, a duodrone can begin to learn from her experiences and start to show preferences and quirks that non-modrons may be tempted to call a personality. Though it is technically possible for a duodrone who works on the same primary goal for long enough without receiving maintenance to go rogue and develop a true independent personality, this is rarely permitted to happen, and any uniqueness in a duodrone’s function tends to be only skin deep. When a duodrone’s primary task is completed, she discards the memory of it without a second thought, along with everything she learnt performing it and the behavioural traits she picked up. A duodrone thus approaches each new primary task as a completely blank slate.

Passive Ambassadors

On the whole, modrons don’t seem to put much stock in diplomacy. While they rarely go looking for conflict, they also don’t often go looking for alliances either, even with other beings of law, such as devils and angels, whom they permit to use their realm as an impartial court of negotiation but otherwise offer little in the way of support to. Still, from time to time, the modrons do see some need to work with a non-modron; typically, this will be in some conflict against the forces of chaos or as part of some archaic agreement they have with a lawful deity or entity of some description. Additionally, while modrons will protect their home and think nothing of eliminating those that disrupt its function, they usually prefer not to employ violence on visitors to Mechanus out of hand and thus may eventually need to send someone to investigate an interplanar arrival’s business if they stay for an unusual amount of time.

Still, even when they consider it necessary, modrons usually don’t see the care or supervision of other individual beings as all that important in the grand scheme of things. If it were feasible, the task of diplomacy would likely be delegated all the way down the chain of command to the monodrones. However, the care of guests and allies is rarely a straightforward action that can be described in a single order. Even the most accommodating non-modron companions tend to have annoyingly changeable needs and desires. Thus the tasks of interrogating, supervising, and assisting non-modrons are passed to the lowest-ranked modron up to the task, a duodrone.

Often, but not always, equipped with magic to enable their communication with their charge, duodrone diplomats are instilled with the overall goal of interacting with the outsider and use that to inform how they will treat and respond to them. Most unexpected visitors can expect to be asked for the purpose of their visit so it can be reported to a Tridrone. If the Tridrone finds reason to suspect harmful intentions, she will have the invaders cast out, imprisoned, or killed. If the purpose is considered benign or indeed helpful to the modrons, the visitors may either be left alone or possibly assigned a duodrone guide, tasked with either keeping them out of trouble or even assisting them.

Despite this role of hospitality, duodrones are seldom all that gracious as hosts. While not exactly rude, duodrones are direct and blunt in their interactions with other beings, performing acceptable requests with unembellished efficiency and answering unacceptable demands with curt refusal. If they are instructed to get something out of their charge, such as information or service, they will pursue that goal relentlessly. Sidetracks on a stated mission are treated with suspicion and scorn, and all the while, the modron carries what often feels like unstated exasperation that the less lawfully bound beings they are supervising may do something disruptive.

With how upfront and unflinching duodrones are in their interaction, many can be lulled into a sense of security that they can expect their guide’s guidance to be, at the very least, accurate. This is untrue. Though modrons, including duodrones, are always perfectly honest with each other so long as they haven’t gone rogue, they can lie to other beings when it suits their interest. Duodrones can tell when information is sensitive and could do modron-kind harm if it were to get to the wrong people, thus leading them to withhold it. Duodrones can also be told to misinform their guests, to encourage them into giving information or assistance they wouldn’t otherwise, to obscure intentions their charges would find objectionable, or to keep them away from things the modrons would rather keep private.

Sex and Sexuality Among Duodrones

Physically, duodrones are notable for the shape of their sexual assets. Where most female life has rounded breasts, regardless of the rest of their body’s shape, duodrones are notable for their breasts and butt being a matching cuboidal shape to the rest of their body. Witnessing duodrones has inspired many artificers to try and create a broader variety of shapes for their animate works. Golems, magical automata, animated objects, and other constructs all need breasts in order to animate, for it is a requirement of Nymphona’s will. However, seeing Nymphona permit the duodrone’s animation suggests a more relaxed definition of a breast. Cube-breasted constructs generally do animate, along with breasts of more complex geometric shapes. Constricts with simpler or flatter shapes for breasts, such as pyramids or discs, tend to either fail to animate or have the breasts distort into more natural, round breasts, perhaps explaining why the pyramidal tridrone has fairly normal breasts, in terms of shape if not number.

While the sexual parts of a duodrone’s body are fascinating, they seldom see much active use. Like most basic modrons, duodrones have no personal desires, so while they may experience physical pleasure from sex, they are not driven to seek it out. As such, duodrones only have sex in the unlikely event they are commanded to or if they believe that doing so will serve their current primary objective. The most common way a duodrone finds herself in the latter case is if sex is requested by a guest or ally they have been ordered to supervise or attend.

Mortal women seldom make sexual requests of modrons, even when empowered to; the non-humanoid shape and amalgamation of organic and mechanical parts tends to make even a willing duodrone guide seem like an unappealing, sometimes horrifying offer for a sexual partner. Modrons have guests besides mortals, however, including those that consider sex not as a matter of attraction but one of asserting power. Devils, when in Mechanus for diplomatic reasons, are generally watched closely by the modrons to ensure they do not betray their trust. Unable to attack their hosts without disadvantaging the Hells’ negotiations, infernal diplomats work off their fury by raping their duodrone guides, an arrangement that both sides find completely agreeable.

In truth, these acts of sexual brutality are not rape in the technical sense. Being without a sense of true self and acting entirely for the advancement of modrons as a whole, duodrones have no sense of shame or personal entitlement to being treated with respect. A duodrone that is fucked cannot and will not feel any fear or humiliation, just as they also won’t feel any affection or joy, despite the physical sensations of pleasure and pain they may feel. A duodrone refuses sex when it impedes their current goal, but if fucking someone helps to keep them on the modrons’ side or simply out of trouble, there is little reason to refuse. Indeed, with their reactive capabilities, duodrones willingly having sex can put in a seemingly enthusiastic amount of effort into pleasuring their partner and responding to their sexual acts in an encouraging way.

Men to Duodrones

Like monodrones, duodrones lack the necessary mental capacity to keep an internal record of how to treat men differently from women; thus, in brief interactions, duodrones give the gender of those they meet little thought, besides using it as an identifier, such as when telling monodrones to attack or spy on a particular individual.

If a duodrone’s task involves longer interactions with a man, such as being assigned to him as a guide or to hunt him down, she may begin to clue in on aspects of masculine behaviour that help her perform her duty, following signs of heightened sexual activity to find him or using sexual temptation to sway him into acting in Mechanus’ interests. Being a menial unit designed for practical tasks rather than sociability does put a dampener on a duodrone’s ability to approximate flirting; the modrons have long learnt that many men can be manipulated simply by offering and withholding sex at the right times.

Like monodrones, duodrones normally permit a man to fuck them so long as it doesn’t interfere with their current task, lacking any sense of self-interest to encourage them to refuse. Since duodrones are typically assigned to oversee monodrones and give them commands, a duodrone typically can permit men to fuck them so long as they are not taken from their work site or prevented from speaking to their subordinates while they fuck, though one is unlikely to find an otherwise occupied duodrone to be all that reactive as a lover. If a duodrone is currently employed with supervising or attending a man, then sex is part of her expected service, so the duodrones will not only accept it but are also likely to focus more of their attentions on the task, as well as any monodrone assistants they may have access to.

Unlike a monodrone, a duodrone whose current task is hampered by a man’s attempts to fuck her doesn’t normally just wriggle free and go straight back to work. Able to recognise when a man’s actions will damage her ability to complete her primary task, a duodrone takes steps to ensure that he stops bothering her. A duodrone asked after for sexual favours that would disrupt her task usually doesn’t just refuse him, she often, if capable of being understood, directs the man on how to find a more available sexual partner. If a man insists on trying to sexually disrupt her work, a duodrone has no qualms about using intimidation or violence to drive off, incapacitate, or kill the offending man.

Chapter 192: Tridrone

While Monodrones and Duodrones have their instructions and follow them to the letter, both lack the intellectual capacity to adequately explain their task’s purpose or end goal beyond the fact that it is what they have been told to do. To most beings, even the most stanchly obedient, such a lack of comprehension of one’s purpose could well be maddening, but for modrons, confirmation that an order comes from Primus, directly or otherwise, is reason enough to perform without second thought. No singular being can truly comprehend Primus’s plans in full, but a partial understanding of Primus’ overall desires begins to emerge among the modrons, starting with the tridrones. With a basic understanding of their place among the modrons beyond their immediate task, tridrones are the most basic modrons to have what may arguably be called personhood, though it is a form of personhood that is still shockingly comfortable being integrated into the grand scheme of Mechanus. A managerial role among the modrons, Tridrones spend longer than their Duodrone subordinates being left to their own devices, receiving their overall aims when the Quadrone in charge of them drops in and doling out missions that serve that aim.

Life in Triplicate

Most modrons are, by the standards of the average mortal, rather strange-looking beings, with their geometric body shapes and disconcertingly chimeric combination of seemingly constructed and organic parts as if they were mechanically altered despite being born naturally from Primus, complete with their gears and metal casings. The tridrone, however, may be among the strangest. Somewhat in keeping with its numerical rank, a tridrone’s central mass is triangular, an inverted tetrahedron to be precise. Applied to this body, however, are three faces, one on each face of the pyramid save the top.

Like all modrons, a tridrone does seem to be a being of a single consciousness, with a complexity about akin to an average mortal, if stymied by their logical bluntness. Despite this, each of a tridrone’s faces can act independently of each other, having each an eye, a normally plump-lipped mouth, an arm capable of fine motor control and weapon usage, a pair of legs, a pussy, and a pair of breasts. With these distributed parts, a tridrone can give or receive orders from three directions at once, perform three simultaneous actions, or even fight in three directions without hampering any path of assault. This appears to be a form of extreme multitasking, the tridrone splitting her attention three ways without degrading her functionality.

Physiologically, a tridrone is a bit of an oddity among modrons. Duodrones and quadrones have a fairly normal build in comparison to the modron between them in rank; both have only a single face and an arrangement of limbs much more comparable to other bipedal beings, having only a pair of arms and a pair of legs each. The tridrone’s more distributed features may speak to their primary function as a hub for incoming information, commands, and strategies among the lower ranks of modrons.

Central Management

Normally, when not part of an active assault force, a tridrone will secure herself in a singular location, akin to an administrator’s office, and let other modrons, both above and below her in rank, come to her. Quadrones patrolling their area of supervision will drop in at regular intervals to receive overall status reports and give updated orders to their tridrones, and Duuodrones will report in to the tridrones to report progress on their more small-scale tasks and receive new instructions. A tridrone’s divided faces and attention can thus let her conduct up to three of these meetings at once, coordinating new information in her singular mind and distributing it to each face as needed.

When not engaged with a modron or another being she considers worth a third of her attention, a tridrone’s face is not entirely inactive; instead, a tridrone without an immediate focus for some of her attention uses that available focus to mull over the latest situation and calculate optimum strategies. Therefore, while a tridrone can be a little slow in the face of the unexpected, she and those she commands can adapt to nearly any situation given sufficient time and data.

Unlike the duodrones and monodrones beneath them, tridrones generally have a consistent memory that extends beyond individual tasks, though extended irrelevancy of a memory can cause it to quickly fade. Thanks to this lingering memory, a tridrone can learn and pick up efficient techniques over the course of centuries. This can create what to some resemble subtle mannerisms and personalities that differ between tridrones, to the point where certain tridrones can become uniquely mentally suited to administrating specific tasks.

Thanks to this, while individual monodrones and duodrones are more or less interchangeable with any others of their rank, there is some small advantage to assigning specific tridrones to tasks that they have prior experience in, often leading to tridrones that have existed long enough being earmarked for specific functions. Still, all tridrones stay somewhat generalist; a tridrone officer on the front lines can direct builders almost as well as they can soldiers, and a tridrone administrator or foreman can just as easily take up some javelins and fight alongside their troops when violence is called for. This flexibility is maintained through a number of ways. Tridrones of different specialities communicate with each other when they pass, sharing tips for efficiency in their field. In addition, when they come to give orders and receive updates, a tridrone’s quadrone superior also analyses them for signs of overspecialisation or diversion from the lawful norm. Should such a flaw be found, the quadrone orders the tridrone to correct herself, excising memories, habits, and personality traits that deviate too far from the norm.

Sex and Sexuality Among Tridrones

In most cases, in any situation where a modron would be required to have sex, such as to keep a diplomatic visitor distracted, it is unlikely that a tridrone would be put to the task. Generally, a tridrone’s duties are considered too instrumental to Mechanus’ function and too broad for it to be worth her time to be involved in sexual activity. Even though it would only take one third of a tridrone’s attention to effectively have sex with someone, it is usually a better use of a tridrone’s attention to keep the associated face occupied with giving and receiving commands or even seemingly idle instead of engaging in physical distractions. Even when a face is doing nothing, a tridrone can use that portion’s brainpower to process new information and speculate on possible events, a capability limited if a face is distracted by sex.

Despite her lack of sexual applications, a tridrone’s sexual anatomy is strangely unique, not only among modrons but also among most other creatures too. As mentioned, tridrones have three sets of breasts, one for each face; however, tridrones also interrupt the pattern among modrons in general, where each increasing rank has visibly larger breasts. Each set of a tridrone’s breasts is only about the size of a duodrone’s, though there are, of course, more of them, and, as it happens, the combined volume of a tridrone’s six tits almost perfectly matches that of a quadrone’s two.

Another sexual feature tripled in tridrone’s is their vaginas, a vaginal entrance found on all but the top face of the modron’s pyramidal body near the downward-pointing vertex. This superabundance of sexual parts confuses some; after all, Nymphona only requires female life to have one pussy and two breasts. Surely the tridrone’s surplus suggests a sexual intent, perhaps as a breeding centre that can birth at a triple rate. However, this super-efficient breeding is not only counter to how Primus intends monodrones to be born, by her womb alone, but it also isn’t physiologically matched by reality. Though outwardly in possession of three vaginas, all three feed into only a single womb, and, like all modrons, no female life can successfully impregnate a tridrone. The leading theory is that, if a tridrone does find herself needing to fuck for some mission-critical reason, having all her faces equipped for sex makes it immaterial which she presents to her partner, letting her continue to use her other faces for work, minimising the interruption.

Men to Tridrones

With a consistent, if basic, memory, most tridrones have some experience with men, either first or secondhand. Thanks to this, tridrones can have a unique reaction to men that reflects their past experience. Generally, a tridrone greets situations involving a man with patience but also a fair bit of open exasperation. Even the most well-behaved man is an unusual enough presence that he will be disruptive by modron standards. For as long as a man is present, a tridrone knows that she will have to direct one of her faces to keep an eye on him. Therefore, unless the tridrone’s task specifically concerns the man, she will normally want him out of her sight as swiftly as possible, preferably while accompanied by a duodrone guide to ensure he doesn’t misbehave.

With time and experience, a tridrone can develop more nuanced opinions of men in general by assuming experiences with males in the past, that they’ve either lived through or heard of, may suggest possible experiences in the future. A tridrone who has received assistance from a man in the past may think more favourably of men, remembering what sexual suggestions may sway another man into helping them. More often, however, a tridrone who recalls a man will recall him as an obstacle to her work through his sexual escapades, leading her to treat future males with terse distrust.

Like with other skills, the modrons keep track of which tridrone has what experiences with men and tend to use these subtle variations when assigning them to missions. If a mission calls for allying with a man, the tridrone assigned to it will normally be one who has positive recollections of working with men and is adept at offering sexual favours to keep him compliant. On the other hand, if a man is antagonistic to Primus’ goals, the tridrone assigned to the goal may be one with existing experience in how much trouble a man can be. However, modrons seldom let their tridrone’s distrust of men overflow into outright hatred, just as they don’t let an objective understanding of potential usefulness bloom into adoration. Just like with other talents, overspecialisation into man-loving or hating, at the expense of being able to do the other, is considered a defect by modrons, and tridrones are regularly screened for them by their quadrone supervisors, with such flaws being ordered removed when found.

While many tridrones are fairly sedentary, moving only to inspect their workforce or go on the attack, tridrones are less willing to be casually used compared to duodrones and monodrones. While lesser modrons seem capable of just letting a man fuck them while they perform their task, assuming sex doesn’t render them mechanically incapable of it, tridrones seem incapable of letting a man fuck them without directing at least one of their faces to reciprocate. As such, a tridrone being fucked by a man, even if she is otherwise just standing there, has her efficiency docked by one third, an intolerable loss at most times; thus, a tridrone would much rather have a man’s sexual advances be repulsed or redirected onto one of her underlings. However, if a tridrone is in a position where she needs to personally supervise a man anyway, she is normally willing to let him fuck her while she does so, since, for the most part, fucking her keeps him out of trouble.

Chapter 193: Quadrone

With a cubic body and a fairly tame arrangement of limbs, two arms and two legs, quadrones can, at first glance, be mistaken for the more common duodrones, though there are a few key differences. Where a duodrone’s angular form extends to her squarish tits, a quadrone’s much larger breasts are also far more akin to a natural being’s in shape. Quadrones also lack a jointed midsection and possess a pair of wings, similar to a monodrone’s. Internally, a quadrone is also far more complicated than the modrons below her in rank. Able to make decisions, recall memories, and respond to the unexpected with the efficacy of a true person, a quadrone is capable of shocking independence, letting her oversee many tridrones and report back to the pentadrones.

Scouts and Supervisors

As is required by how modron minds function, a portion of the quadrone population must work to continue the chain of command relaying orders from Primus to the tridrones, having received the orders from pentadrone enforcers. Thanks to this, about a third of quadrones serve as deputies to a pentadrone, staying by her and compelling tridrones to comply with their investigations. This, however, is the role that least benefits from the quadrone’s most unique skill, her independence.

With mental complexity that borders on personhood, a quadrone requires very little supervision for a modron, even when compared to the managerial tridrones and even their pentadrone superiors who collect their every target directly from above. As such, quadrones are some of the few modrons who can be left to keep a section running without having to check in with them to modulate their behaviour. As such, another third of quadrones are put in charge of various modron holdings and interests, both in and out of Mechanus. With the overall goals of an area in mind, a quadrone gives the tridrones under her command their overarching goals to let them direct their duodrones and monodrones towards achieving them. Once this system is in place, the quadrone can examine progress from above, lend assistance as is useful, and check in with the tridrones to check progress, investigate for signs of degrading functionality, and give updated orders both from above and in reaction to what the quadrone herself has witnessed.

Not all quadrones have a platoon of lesser modrons assigned to them, however. With their ability to act without support or oversight, a quadrone is an excellent choice for tasks where Primus cannot send in an army, such as in missions of stealthy or peaceful intent. On diplomatic missions, the advanced mind of a quadrone can make her surprisingly personable. While a quadrone’s words are rarely all that deeply inspired, it can be rather shocking how swiftly a quadrone can make one see them as a friend, even though they would attack one without mercy should the order come in. A quadrone is also well able to understand nuance and will faultlessly recollect not only what was said at a cordial meeting but will also be able to produce a full analysis of every unspoken detail for her superiors.

In more dangerous situations, a quadrone’s wings give her supreme mobility in most environments, and while they are not masters of subterfuge, quadrones can make themselves go unseen surprisingly well when they want to be. When danger cannot be fled from or evaded, quadrones are very capable of looking after themselves in combat. Though tough and resilient, quadrones are normally armed with ranged weapons such as bows, letting them flutter out of a foe’s reach and fire down upon them. Quadrone’s employ similar tactics when engaging in numbers, letting the tridrones handle the ground assault while they serve above as light artillery. Able to unleash volleys of stunningly accurate arrows four at a time.

Rogue Exiles

Technically able to happen to any modron, going rogue is the term used to describe a modron whose mind has deviated from the purely lawful norm of their kind and has shifted from one unit in the whole of modron kind to becoming a true individual person. Despite what one may imagine, a rogue modron is not necessarily a being of utter chaos; any modron who becomes less than fervently attached to the dictates of order or allows their view of law to be tainted by evil or good alike is considered rogue and a threat to the modron homogeny that cannot be tolerated. Rogue modrons sometimes manage to mislead whole platoons of lesser modrons under their command to follow them, passing them off as their own whims as part of Primus’ grand design. Most, however, simply flee, striking out for themselves and finding shelter among beings that share their new philosophy.

To non-modrons, a rogue modron can be many things, largely based on how their morality has changed. A rogue modron can be an unusual hero of sorts, or else it can be a miniature engine of destruction. Many become curious locals in tucked-away, forgotten corners of the planes, interested in filling any number of esoteric professions.

To the perspective of Primus and thus most modrons, a rogue modron is an abomination and a threat to the functionality of their society and the planes as a whole. Even the most inoffensive rogue modrons advance a cause foreign to the aims of Primus, depriving her of a unit in her missions. Unlike a modron’s death, a modron going rogue does not create an opening for a lesser loyal modron to promote into the role the rogue promoted and for Primus to birth a new monodrone. Therefore, every rogue modron is not only an agent working against Primus’ lawful aims but also a diminishment of her army and workforce that cannot be rectified until the rogue is destroyed, an act that Primus will go to great lengths to achieve. This, of course, is why virtually all rogue modrons make it their first order of business to flee Mechanus in search of somewhere their fellow modrons will not find them.

In truth, going rogue is an immensely rare event among modrons. In a legion of ten thousand modrons selected at random, one would be unlikely to find even one that goes rogue. Not only are they as fundamentally bound to their moral alignment as most fiends and celestials are, but modron society is deeply ingrained to nip the threat of going rogue in the bud before it becomes an issue. Modrons frequently check in with one another, interviewing modrons of equal or lesser rank to themselves not only for the status of their current tasks but also for signs of undue independence and deviation from their intended function. When caught early, as it often is, these “defects” can be repaired by simply commanding the offending modron to cast the deviant thoughts from their mind. However, once a modron goes truly rogue and develops full individuality, they are usually as unwilling to voluntarily dispose of their personhood as most people would be, making them utterly unsalvageable in the eyes of the rest of their kind.

Though rare, there are a variety of risk factors that increase the likelihood of a modron going rogue. These include having higher intellectual capability, long periods of retained memory, and extended stints of time when a modron is given independent tasks. A modron’s environment can also contribute to her going rogue; without other modrons to keep her in line, centuries of exposure to more chaotic beings and planes can degrade a modron’s adherence to law. Quadrones, thanks to their general duties, experience the brunt of risk factors for going rogue, and it shows in the proportions of the rogue population. While virtually any modron can go rogue, the vast majority of rogue modrons are quadrones. This is thought to be by some why such high-ranking modrons are given the risky task of scouting and going on diplomatic missions. Not only does a quadrone’s intellectual complexity let her work alone effectively, meaning she is less likely to drag a battalion of modrons off with her should she go rogue, but her position also puts her under the direct scrutiny of Primus’ enforcers, the pentadrones.

Sex and Sexuality Among Quadrones

Like most modrons, quadrones generally consider themselves to have better things to do than engage in distracting activities such as having sex. Still, quadrones are made to be more flexible and independent in their activities than other modrons, and thus they can analyse their situation for when having sex may be advantageous. With modrons being generally incapable of reproductive sex, the main purpose a quadrone finds to fuck is generally to distract or influence another creature. While a quadrone is hardly the most seductive being in existence, a quadrone’s willingness to mindlessly comply with things most creatures would consider humiliating or dangerous in exchange for the right information or assistance makes them appealing to some as temporary concubines.

While most modrons are either without thought or utterly pragmatic when it comes to sex, things change somewhat when a modron goes rogue. Freed from their single-minded, collectivist duties, rogue modrons generally become highly opinionated on things that the modron collective finds insignificant, sex included. Ironically, how this opinion manifests tends to run counter to how they experienced sex before going rogue.

If a modron has distinct memories of having sex in the name of Primus’ goals or at the command of other modrons, they tend to associate sex with being used, thus treating it as an assault against their newfound independence. Such rogue modrons tend to be vehemently disdainful of sexual advances and will consider anyone who approaches them in such a way as threats to their personal freedom. Modrons who have experienced an unusual turn towards good generally express this by pulling away from lewder activities and seeking to find places of virgin purity to inhabit. More wicked or unstable rogue modrons may instead show paranoia, accusing even the most innocent gesture as a sign of rapacious intent and responding with lethal force.

Most rogue modrons, however, possess more memories of sexual denial than sexual use in their old lives. As such, many approach sex with some degree of curiosity or even desire. While not every rogue modron is violently horny, most will be drawn in by hints of sexual activity and may spring on any opportunity to have sex that doesn’t endanger them and doesn’t violate their current morality.

Men to Quadrones

Generally, a quadrone will have enough memories of men or conversations concerning men to have preconceived notions about them and make usually fair assumptions on how a man will act given his masculinity. Generally seeing men as disruptive, a quadrone will usually try to avoid a man’s attention, giving him a wide berth and flying out of his reach should he insist on bothering her. Though a quadrone is unlikely to seek a man’s demise on her own initiative, she will fight back against him if there seems to be no other convenient way to get past him.

On the other hand, if a quadrone recognises there is something she can gain from a man to assist in her current task, her lack of personal dignity means that she will be pragmatic enough to offer sexual services to a man in exchange for his assistance. Where other modrons of relatively high rank, such as tridrones and pentadrones, prefer to delegate the task of sexually engaging a man to a modron that serves them, quadrones only do so on occasion. Being used to dealing with issues without immediate external help, quadrones are happy enough to personally keep a man sexually entertained, understanding the added benefit that not delegating the task tends to make the man believe it is less onerous and personally desired, even if they know on an intellectual level that personal desires of any kind are absent from their partner.

Rogue modrons tend to have an interesting form of likeness to men, able to sense that both are anomalies in the universe. While this doesn’t necessarily make rogues friendly to men in all cases, it usually means that a man will draw their attention. With the diversity of moral outlooks a modron can be possessed by once free of Primus’ dictates, it is almost impossible to tell how a man can expect to be treated by a rogue modron; one may want him dead, another may push desperately to be his sexual partner, and one may wish to simply abduct him and keep him as a prisoner, test subject, or plaything.

Chapter 194: Pentadrone

Unless one has found themselves deeply ingrained in the convoluted mechanism that is the governance of Mechanus, the most powerful and complex modron even a seasoned planar traveller is likely to encounter is a pentadrone. The highest form of so-called “base” modrons, the pentadrone directs and supervises the modrons below her in station and answers directly to the hierarchs, a forum of advanced and rare modrons who govern the whole of modron kind and deliver the will of Primus herself.

In form, pentadrones are notably larger than their other base modrons, supported on five legs and bearing an upper body best described as a mechanical, five-armed starfish. Similar to a tridrone, each arm of a pentadrone bears its own face capable of concentrating on its own task, though, unlike the tridrone, a pentadrone has only one rather large pair of breasts and one vagina, both located under its star structure. Despite her unusual form, a pentadrone is, in all but the most unexpected cases, an unyielding bastion of the law.

Sherifs of Mechanus

In most cases, the base modrons exist to serve as a massive workforce designed to implement Primus’ will. In certain situations, pentadrones can also do such grunt labour; with size and strength comparable to a workhorse, a pentadrone can perform many tasks that require heavy lifting. In times of war, a pentadrone not only acts as a central hub for tactical command but also as a powerhouse, able to bring all five arms to bear upon the enemy, crushing multiple foes at once. However, in day-to-day activity, pentadrones exist in a role somewhat separate from general modron labour.

While all properly functioning modrons ultimately work towards the ordering of reality, pentadrones are actively charged with maintaining the law wherever they may be. Generally, this manifests as a constant vigilance against potential breakdowns of command chains. Pentadrones interview returning quadrone scouts for signs of burgeoning independence to quash and initiate probes down the chain of command to weed out signs of dissent. Even when all modrons are being perfectly obedient, the pentadrones remain busy, taking inventory of their current workforce so they can requisition replacements for lost troops and analysing projects to see where any actions have become superfluous to necessity, reassigning the modrons and supplies in a more useful direction.

Pentadrones are also in charge of hunting down modrons who go rogue. Like mechanical bounty hunters, nothing but orders from above can turn a pentadrone from the trail of the defector she pursues. Travelling either alone, with a posse of quadrones, or at the head of a small modron army, a pentadrone will use nearly any means available to her to track a rogue modron down, willing to bribe, persuade, threaten, or even kill and invade in order to get at the modron trying to escape her. Once her quarry is found, a pentadrone knows that a rogue modron is beyond the scope of reduction, so she usually just destroys them, freeing up their position to be taken by an untainted modron.

As well as policing their own kind, however, pentadrones are also responsible for dealing with others under their watch. While Primus does not make a habit of invading other realms and enforcing her laws on others, pentadrones consider anywhere they tread to be subject to the laws of Mechanus, regardless of how the natives feel about it. It is for this reason that pentadrones are seldom found outside of Mechanus unless a place is important enough to the modrons that they feel it necessary to stake a claim to it. Within Mechanus, however, pentadrones patrol most every corner.

As far as the modrons are concerned, any who find their way to Mechanus, be they expected guests, surprise visitors, or suspected interferers, are subject to reams of highly specific and situational laws regardless of their visit’s purpose and their capability to follow or even comprehend the legal minutiae. Thankfully, the laws of the modrons are not intentionally built to entrap the unaware, like the laws of the Nine Hells are, for example, so a visitor will likely be able to stay out of trouble so long as they don’t interfere with a modron’s job, follow instructions given, stick to promises and agreements made, and don’t go out of their way to be disruptive. Those that cannot follow these rules will face the consequences, generally at the command or the pummeling arms of a pentadrone.

While willing to kill interlopers as need be, especially if they appear to be something unrepentantly chaotic as a demon or slaad, pentadrones can be surprisingly lenient with troublemakers, up to a point. In truth, this apparent mercy is merely pragmatism; Primus learnt long ago that many dissident outsiders will behave themselves or even prove useful once punished rather than outright killed. As such, pentadrones tend to arrest foreign lawbreakers for all but the most extreme infractions, letting them suffer imprisonment or pay off their damages through fines and hard labour. To perform these arrests, pentadrones possess a secret weapon, a magical gas they can spray upon the battlefield. While minimally damaging to the physical integrity of an area, the gas magically quells motive power, be it from mechanical parts or organic muscle, essentially leaving those that succumb frozen in place, allowing for the pentadrone to either have them restrained or wade in and beat them unconscious without fearing them fighting back.

Attendants to the Hierarchs

Thanks to how the minds of base modrons function, a base modron can generally only comprehend the words of a modron equal to them in rank or either one rank above or below them; anything beyond this rank is too intricately complex in the case of superiors or radically simplified in the case of inferiors for a modron’s mind to comprehend without external magical assistance or an intermediate modron to act as a translator. Thanks to this, if a base modron were to receive an order directly from the mouth of Primus, she would simply not understand, the terms and detail in her every utterance being well beyond their feeble minds to comprehend. It is thus that, between Primus and the vast majority of her creations, there are the highly advanced hierarch modrons.

It is said that as a modron promotes through the base forms, it is simply growing in complexity, as if a pebble were to start growing into a boulder, its potential increasing simply because there is more of it. When a modron transitions into a hierarch, it is more akin to that rock being carved, the crude stone being rendered into a form of greater complexity, each subsequent promotion bringing it closer to intricate, singular perfection. Even the least of the hierarchs, the decaton, is a genius by mortal standards, equipped with magics and power that lets them stand toe to toe with angels and great demons alike. Still, hierarchs are not often called to the battlefield, instead confining themselves to hidden strongholds on Mechanus, where they can work on parsing the will of Primus and translating her inscrutable goals into simple directives that base modrons can understand and act upon.

For all a hierarch’s power and influence, one thing they are not is omnipresent. While base modrons are said to exist in their millions or possibly more, most sources state that there are only three hundred and eighty-four hierarch modrons in existence at any time. While the method of modron promotion means that hierarchs are not in danger of extinction, their relatively small numbers mean that they cannot possibly attend to every operation the modrons perform personally. It is thus that they rely on the pentadrones.

Able to give and receive orders from up to five directions at once, updated instructions from the hierarchs can spread rapidly between pentadrones. Once a significant body of pentadrones knows the desires of Primus, as determined by the hierarchs, they can begin instructing their quadrones to fly out, either to undergo important solo missions or to deliver new public works projects to the tridrones, who can then manage the minutiae of the project delivered through work teams of monodrones headed by duodrone forewomen. Thus, the whole chain of command comes into being to bring the will of Primus into reality, even as the understanding of that will diminishes with every step.

Even a pentadrone, given a full view of the required project by their hierarch masters, generally lacks more than a basic understanding of Primus’ general goal with what she commands. Yet this lack of understanding for their instructions does nothing to dampen the fervour with which they follow them. Despite what can appear to be a great deal of mental complexity, pentadrones are as much a part of the system of Mechanus as the almost mindless monodrones, lacking anything in the way of personal identity or desires, not even a desire to get closer to the one they worship, Primus.

As with base modrons, the death of a hierarch, as rare as it may be, triggers the promotion of the nearest modron of the rank below her to take her place, triggering the one below her in turn. So, for example, a slain hexton would be replaced by the nearest septon, who would be replaced by the nearest octon, and so on. When a decaton, the lowest form of hierarch modron, is promoted or destroyed, her place is taken by the nearest pentadrone. Among other creatures, such a rare and exclusionary method of ascension to such an undeniably more powerful and influential state of being would almost certainly lead to a great deal of social jostling, favour currying, or even assassinations. Not so among the modrons. A pentadrone has no ambition beyond functioning as a pentadrone.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pentadrones

For most occasions, the function of a pentadrone is well beyond the realms of sex. Though they are the direct underlings of the modron hierarchs, the role among modrons is considered by many outsiders as akin to nobility, fulfilling their every need. Modrons, not even the most advanced and mentally complex, look for titillation or self-fulfilment through otherwise functionless sexual favours.

Still, pentadrones don’t have a problem with other beings having sex. As long as the activity doesn’t disrupt the work or goals of a modron, a pentadrone usually couldn’t care less about where or how another creature engages in sexual activity. This can be perturbing for certain visitors, as a pentadrone will think nothing of intruding on one’s privacy to briefly check on the acceptability of the copulation only to wander off afterwards.

As for the prospect of getting involved themselves, there are relatively few situations where sex enters the purview of a pentadrone’s standard duties. A pentadrone’s role is not to entertain or look after guests, but to keep them in line and ensure their respect for Primus’ authority. While other modrons may have sex with other creatures to maintain their favourable view of them or to avoid an unnecessary fight, a pentadrone demands obedience and would much rather beat a dissident into submission than placate them. At most, a pentadrone may occasionally direct a sexually interested visitor in the direction of lesser modrons standing by for sexual activity.

Men to Pentadrones

Of all base modrons, pentadrones are perhaps the least likely to indulge a man’s sexual desires of their own free will. While, in the right situation, other modrons may want a man to view them favourably so as to extract assistance from him, a pentadrone, being the security and law enforcement of Mechanus, generally wants visitors, regardless of sex, to respect and slightly fear her. As such, pentadrones do not allow men to foster any sense of familiarity with or control over them by accepting sexual congress. Pentadrones will even sometimes feign offence at sexual requests, even though they lack the self-respect to be besmirched, the aim being to keep a man from feeling entirely free to try and find sex among the modrons.

Indeed, of all modrons, pentadrones seem the most openly biased against men. While not outright hateful, pentadrones recognise the non-standard nature of a man to be inherently disruptive to the status quo wherever they go. As such, even the most obedient, law-abiding man invites some chaos, chaos that pentadrones feel compelled to stamp out whenever it occurs. When a man finds himself in Mechanus or anywhere else the modrons have a vested interest in, he will likely have at least one pentadrone keeping constant tabs on him, with neither intent to hide nor bring attention to her surveillance.

Despite this constant intrusion into his privacy, pentadrones tend to let a lot of behaviour slide that other forms of law enforcement, such as town militias or town watches, would at least wish to prevent. Being purely functional, untainted by evil or morality, the laws of Mechanus are generally intended to keep the plane functioning rather than maintain the well-being of individuals. An example pertinent to men may be that rape, an action most societies see fit to criminalise, is generally of no interest to pentadrones. So long as his doing so doesn’t interfere with modron schemes or break some established agreement, a man could rape a woman in front of a pentadrone to zero reaction. Only once a man’s actions become disruptive to society at large will the pentadrones intervene, unflinchingly aiming to incapacitate him with paralysing gas and sound beatings.

Chapter 195: Mummy

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

Ever since knowledge of necromantic arts first poisoned mortal knowledge, individuals have sought to use it in prolonging mortal existence, either their own or that of useful underlings. When most people today consider such necromantic activities, they normally think of a powerful wizard embracing lichdom to extend her lifespan or raising servants as zombies, ghouls, and wights. There are other methods, however, older necromantic rituals that preserve the body, withered as it may be, and keep the soul bound to it by bandages inscribed with fiendish sigils and oaths to wicked, largely forgotten deities. Known as mummies, these undead are bound to an eternal vigil over their tomb, often a grand mausoleum or temple forgotten to time, ready to curse any who would plunder its riches or bring its arcane operations to an end.

Cursed Guardians

In most cases, a mummy spends a great deal of time in an inactive state, deep in a dreamless sleep, often sealed in a sarcophagus to prevent it from injuring itself and to keep its domain untouched. Generally, there is some form of magical alarm set over whatever a mummy is set to defend, set to awaken the mummy whenever a careless intruder sets foot in a certain area, touches that which does not belong to them, or simply pries the sarcophagus open. As many of the most valuable treasures are placed alongside the mummy in their resting place for maximum security.

When awakened to defend their tomb, a mummy can look a little underwhelming, especially for adventurers who have past dealings with the undead, looking for all the world like a shambling zombie wrapped in flammable bandages. These bandages, however, are more than the mere trappings of the ritual meant to raise them from the dead. The magic inscribed on a mummy’s bandages protects them from mundane weapons, blunting swords, and deflecting arrows against their desiccated flesh. A mummy’s bandages also enhance the power of their emaciated body. Where a common zombie’s strength is generally akin to its strength in life, minus the limiter of mortal restraint to avoid self-injury, mummies can bend iron bars with their bare hands and crack tiles with a magically enhanced punch.

The fell magic woven into a mummy’s assault influences more than just its direct power, however. The ritual that raises a mummy, directly calling upon all manner of vile entities, not only animates a mummy’s flesh but also steeps it in all manner of curses. To look a mummy in the eye is to see the nameless shadows of that which imprisons its soul staring back at you, paralysing most in terror, letting the shambling undead close the distance with ease. Should a mummy successfully touch the flesh of the living, some of their cursed taint can infect them. This magical affliction, known variously as the desert embrace, tomb curse, and mummy rot, causes the victim’s body to rapidly degrade. Assuming a victim escapes the mummy’s initial assault, they will find themselves in a constant downward spiral of degradation, losing the ability to naturally recover from injury and diminishing in mass every day. Without magical intervention to end the curse, most beings will not survive a tenday under the affliction, their ruined bodies reduced to dust.

Though these magical enhancements are more than enough for most would-be tomb raiders to contend with, it is far from unusual for mummies to dispense yet more curses. It was, in the times where raising mummies was a more common practice, also common practice to lay curses upon one’s most important treasures. While some of these curses simply afflicted thieves directly, others simply acted as a beacon to the mummies made to protect it, driving them to tirelessly march after it, venturing without rest on a mission to chase down whoever escaped them, take back their treasure, and kill whoever was in possession of it, along with anyone in their way.

Not all mummies are charged with guarding literal, physical treasures; some defend treasures of the mind. Unlike many undead, mummies are in possession of their souls, the last vestiges of their mortality bound inside them by their cursed bandages. As such, mummies retain much of their mortal memories and, though rarely compelled to utter even a word of their own accord, can speak of what they recall. As such, an archivist, historian, or sage of ages past raised as a mummy can be a veritable trove of ancient, long-forgotten wisdom. Certain necromancers, dark priestesses, and rulers of timeless lineages have hidden away vaults of mummies for intellectual assistance, each one meant to be consulted on certain topics, turning their crypt into an undead library.

Mummy Lords

In most cases, becoming a mummy, having one’s soul denied its proper afterlife to serve the whims of the long dead in the rotting husk of one’s own body, is considered an unenviable fate. Often, it was seen as a punishment for a criminal, foe, or simply a political rival, being denied their final rest so as to repay those they had wronged for the rest of time. In other places, tyrants simply slew slaves and others they considered beneath them, choosing to deny them freedom even in death so as to make use of them eternally.

Still, becoming a mummy offers a form of immortality, if not an enviable one, and for some, especially the powerful and materially obsessed, the offer of immortality inspired them. With the help of unspeakably unholy powers, various dreadful queens, high priestesses, and tyrant mages sought to empower the ritual to create a mummy, seeing to it that when it was performed on their remains, they rose not as spellbound guardians but as deathless mummy lords.

Still draped in the finery of their rule, most mummy lords wait in slumber, just as common mummies do. However, while other mummies await intruders or her command, the mummy lord waits for the time told to her by great divinations that she should rise to reclaim her empire. With an army of the undead at her beck and call and favours from various evil powers, the rise of a mummy lord can be sudden and apocalyptic.

Beyond simply having their underlings and allies, a mummy lord is a significant threat in her own right. Along with all the typical trappings of a mummy, including supernatural strength and resilience, a cursed touch, and a terrifying gaze, a mummy lord also retains all of the power she had in her life. A great swordswoman continues to wield her cursed blade with terrifying proficiency, great sorcerers remain able to cast their spells, and a high priestess’ dark goddess, no matter how obscure she has become, seldom leaves her. Even in the rare event a mummy lord was not a spellcaster of some description in life, the ritual that resurrected her also makes her overflow with deadly energy, making her very presence antithetical to life.

Even if some mortal hero is to overcome all of this darkness and fell a mummy lord, this is not necessarily the end of her reign. One step in the creation of any mummy is the removal of internal organs to slow the rest of the body’s decay. The two organs spared removal in a common mummy are the heart and the womb. While the latter is a necessity for animation thanks to Nymphona’s ruling of existence, the former is kept as it is, where the ritual to reanimate a mummy imprisons their soul. A mummy can thus only truly die when their heart is destroyed.

In most mummies this is a fairly straightforward process; the heart is usually where one would expect it to be and is often destroyed when the body itself is destroyed or when a foe stabs or slashes through it. A mummy lord, however, thanks to the additional power of the ritual made to raise her, can keep her body spiritually bound to her heart even when it is removed from her body. Without her heart, a mummy lord dealt a final blow to her body collapses into dust. Her soul, however, will retreat back to within her heart, wherever it may be, where it will reconstitute a new body over the course of a single day. The key to her endless life, a mummy lord’s heart is usually secured in a well-hidden area and warded with protective magic, making only the cleansing power of flame sufficient to destroy it.

Sex and Sexuality Among Mummies

Mummies are, like most undead, strongly non-sexual beings. Being in possession of their mortal soul and memories, a mummy can retain fragments of their living personality. However, a standard mummy has their mind suffer a great deal of degradation as it is flooded by the inherent malice of undeath and the magical commands of loyalty to whoever they were made for. What little self remains is generally repulsed from any thought of sexual activity by their own horrific corpse of a body.

When it comes to sexual use of a mummy by others, the situation is rare. Not only is the form of mental instability or sexual desperation that would lead a mortal capable of creating and commanding undead to have sex with one rare, even among the most evil necromancers, but mummies are also some of the least appealing undead for those of such a persuasion. Those rare few mummies that seem to have been sexually used were particularly old mummies, existing before other forms of undeath were harnessed by mortals.

Unlike regular mummies, mummy lords keep most of their mental faculties, the creeping influence of undeath on their personalities being far subtler than on their servile equivalents, normally only becoming apparent after centuries of activity wearing down their mortal minds. As such, a mummy lord can retain the sexual proclivities she had in life to an extent. Despite their pride in their deathless nature, most mummy lords have enough mortal sensibilities within them to be somewhat perturbed by their own desiccated nature and thus prefer not to bring attention to it by getting directly involved in sex. Instead, many mummy lords keep erotic artworks such as nude statues or fertility idols to entertain the lustful part of their minds.

For some mummy lords, representations of living beauty are insufficient, and they demand the real thing. Though there are some examples of powerful couples becoming mummy lords together or a tyrant having her favourite concubines turned into mummies in the wake of their own necromantic transformation, most mummy lords retain their mortal preference for living sexual partners, sometimes to the point where they will have their servants kidnap beautiful women to keep prisoner as some form of entertainment, a dancer, trophy bride, or sometimes a sex slave.

Men to Mummies

For most regular mummies, they are too deeply steeped in undeath to bring their living opinion on men to the surface. Most men, in return, have less interest in fucking mummies, their lack of autonomy, low fertility, and generally putrescent flesh turning most men off for the same reason many men are sexually disinterested in zombies and the like. As such, most encounters between men and mummies go ahead in a similar fashion to any clash between adventurers and undead, with a battle.

Though physically similar to any other mummy, the largely intact mind of a mummy lord sometimes makes her more actively opinionated on men and masculinity. How a mummy lord reacts to a man varies based on her history, original culture, and her own quirks of personality. One mummy lord may hate men with a passion, considering the influence and attention they draw simply for being born of the stranger sex to be a direct insult to the inherent worthiness of her own noble bloodline. Another mummy lord may find the prospect of meeting a man to be an entertaining or even enchanting opportunity for sexual pleasure and may try to engineer the situation to get with him, whether he wants to be with her or not.

Some men, on encountering and conversing with a mummy lord, find their reservations around fucking her somewhat relaxed. Though still a bandage-wrapped corpse in body, the surprising vibrance a mummy lord’s personality can possess can lure some men into wanting to become more familiar with her, or at least put what is most certainly a fully conscious villain in her place with his dick. However, it must be remembered that the sort of person who would willingly deal with the dark forces that enable mummies to rise is almost certainly a manipulative, arrogant, selfish, and cruel soul, with undeath only deepening these malicious traits. No matter how she obsesses over being with a man, a mummy lord’s ability to love him is likely entirely quashed by her own self-adoration and lust for power, and most mummy lords are too many centuries deep in the pit of evil for a good fucking to change their ways.

Like all undead, mummies of all kinds are remarkably unreceptive to pregnancy. Though they must be kept in for the mummy to animate, a mummy’s womb is essentially an empty, inert vestige of what they were in life, with a man’s living sperm only on the rarest of occasions being able to find purchase to create something within them. Even in these remarkably rare events, the offspring of a pregnant mummy is far from a pleasant creature. Vaguely resembling an infant of the mummy’s original race, though with taught, desiccated skin and necrotic flesh, the offspring of a mummy is born as undead as its mother, so will never physically age. Lacking a mortal soul, the undead creature is utterly feral, often scampering along in its mother’s wake on a mission to kill any living creature it comes across. Though only slightly stronger than an actual infant, the offspring of a mummy retains its mother's cursed flesh, making it an unpredictable and worryingly stealthy vector for mummy rot.

Since all male undead are utterly infertile, becoming a mummy or even a mummy lord is a fate that virtually no man would desire. Since the rise of a mummy lord typically requires the direct cooperation of the mortal to be transformed, it is hardly surprising that there are no records of male mummy lords. Regular mummies, on the other hand, do not require the consent of the living person, only their corpse. Since a standard mummy is beholden to the commands of its maker, there are a number of records of ancient necromancers who sought to consign a man to such a fate so that they could have his cock to themselves forever. Only a few men befell such fates, for, as is common today, most male corpses were either destroyed, well hidden, or heavily guarded by those that cared for them in life precisely to prevent necromancers from taking their unique bodies. Ironically, many rituals of the time intended to prevent the raising of a corpse for necromantic means made the remains strongly resemble an undead mummy, the main visible difference being that the bandages that wrap the deceased are inscribed with prayers of protection and gentle repose rather than dark bargains.

Chapter 196: Myconid

In the eternal darkness of the Underdark, the creatures one is liable to encounter often seem to be predatory, opportunistic, or even simply cruel. From gloom-stalking monsters to the eternally plotting armies of duergar, drow, and the like, many adventurers find the world-spanning cave network to be nothing but a nest of danger. However, in amongst the threats of the Underdark, there are a handful of more peaceable people. Arguably one of the oldest races native to the Underdark, having developed there rather than having ventured down from the surface as elves, dwarves, and gnomes have, myconids are a peaceful collective of sapient fungi, happy to live together in a pastoral life.

Lightless Ruralists

Though often vaguely resembling humanoids in form, myconids are in fact formed entirely of fungus—highly intelligent fungus. In most cases, as fungi get more intelligent and capable of interacting with the world, they tend to become more violent and predatory. Many chalk this up to the influence of the demon lord Zuggtmoy, that as a fungus becomes more and more capable of acting, it subconsciously uses that power to further the Lady of Decay’s will. Some even say Zuggtmoy created the myconids with the hope of creating her own wicked race, as Yeenoghu has gnolls and Baphomet has minotaurs. However, the myconids seem to have wholly shed the yoke of evil, if they ever even bore it in the first place, with the exception of a few corrupted cults.

Some say that in making the myconids intelligent enough to recognise the world around them, Zuggtmoy accidentally led them to understand that being destructive, evil monsters was unnecessary or even disadvantageous to their survival. Instead, most myconids live communal, peaceful lives. Lacking mouths, myconids do not speak as most people understand it. However, a myconid can communicate through specialised spores. When a myconid is hurt, she reflexively lets out a cloud of so-called distress spores, alerting her fellows to her pain so they can come to her aid. In other situations, myconids use so-called rapport spores, allowing silent, telepathic communication between any intelligent creature exposed to them, overcoming the hurdles of language and the threat off drawing attention in the dangerous depths of the Underdark.

Able to communicate with ease, myconids form intricate societies, organised into groups called circles. Among myconids, a circle is a collective group of individuals who fulfil a certain need of their society as a whole. While the specific circles vary between myconid colonies depending on their needs, common circles include farmers, builders, child minders, and hunters.

Despite the name, myconids found in hunter circles are seldom any more violent than any other myconid, that is to say, able to throw a rather mean, poison oozing punch or jettison pacifying spores when threatened, but usually much preferring to be left alone and ignored. Hunters don’t even kill their “prey” all that often, usually preferring to happen across corpses so that they can be brought back and made use of by the society as a whole. Likewise, myconid builder circles don’t tend to build grand structures, having little weather to avoid nor much sense of privacy. Instead, most myconid construction projects are simple and intended to serve either a defensive purpose or assist in conveyance. Such as a bridge across a chasm, stairs up a steep cliff, or hidden shelters to hide from enemies.

While myconids can traverse their domain and build well enough to suit their needs, their best-known skill is fungal farming. Perhaps because their own fungal nature makes them more in tune to their crops’ needs, myconids are noted for being able to grow mushrooms, moulds, and lichens in incredible profusions. Most of these fungi are grown as raw construction material or as food, myconids absorbing nutrition through their feet since they lack mouths, but a few have more advanced uses. Most myconid colonies have a select number of individuals able to create potions and poultices out of certain fungi, from simple healing potions to antidotes for drow poisons and yet more intricate tinctures still.

For this skill in herbalism, not to mention the massive surplus of food myconids can create, other Underdark races will sometimes wish to do trade with them. Myconids rarely go looking for such dealings but may accept in exchange for more raw materials, namely, corpses. This business rarely extends out of the Underdark, to the surface, both due to issues of proximity and also because of how myconids react to sunlight. A myconid exposed to the sun rapidly sickens, becoming lethargic and distressed. Even a single hour of such exposure can kill a myconid outright.

When it comes to trading in corpses, myconids are highly pragmatic, rarely caring all that much what sort of corpse they are given, and not usually asking questions about how a creature came to its demise unless they knew them personally. Along with many other humanoid ideas, myconoids generally do not have many inclinations towards ideas such as the sanctity of the dead or proper funerary rites. While the average myconid greatly respects the sanctity of life, often extending this consideration to creatures below the intellectual consideration of most humanoids, and would almost never consider killing someone to attain their corpse, a dead body is simply a raw material going to waste to a myconid’s perception, one that should be used to fertilise fungal crops or be put to some other practical use.

Sovereign Spores

At first glance, many outsiders may consider myconids to be a people entirely bound to their labours, utterly devoid of culture. Myconids do not dance; they do not make art or put on performances. When myconids build, they produce ramshackle structures without flair, just about able to fulfil the purpose it was built for. A myconid spends its active hours working towards her circle’s goals and her colony’s survival, rarely stopping for trivialities. This life of mindless labour is, however, only a third of a myconid’s existence. Spending eight hours per day working towards their group’s survival and eight hours in standing sleep, a myconid’s remaining eight hours are spent in the company of their colony’s sovereign.

Though most adult myconids stand at around four to eight feet tall, myconids slowly grow larger, stronger, and wiser throughout their lives. If a myconid grows old enough to surpass twelve feet in height and develop capabilities beyond an average myconid, they become what is known as a sovereign, an elder myconid whom all others trust the wisdom of. Since myconids seldom learn written language, it is normally the sovereign’s responsibility to pass on information, such as how certain structures are built and how specific potions are made. In addition to knowledge, however, myconid sovereigns are also marked by other capabilities, vital to the colony, that common myconids cannot manage, normally in the form of their unique spores.

One strain of spores produced by myconid sovereigns, known as animating spores, is known among other races for its disturbing effect upon corpses. Most remains found by a myconid hunter circle are handed off to the farming circle to fertilise their fungal fields, but some, particularly those of strong and resilient nature such as orogs and quagoths, are instead taken to the colony’s sovereign to plant animating spores upon. A day later, the corpse seemingly comes to life as a mindless servitor of the myconids, mostly being used to combat those that would harm them, sparing living myconids from harm. In the eyes of many, this transformation resembles necromancy, the reanimated bodies resembling particularly fungus-strewn zombies; however, it is a completely non-magical process, and the so-called spore servants are not animated by the power of undeath but by a network of living fungal hyphae that move the body like a puppet. Still, many people find spore servants unnerving.

Though less obvious than their animating spores, myconid sovereigns have a second form of spore that is far more important to the daily lives of their colony. Sometimes used against enemies when a sovereign deigns to enter combat herself, exposure to these spores can leave the unprepared totally defenceless as their senses take leave from reality and they violently hallucinate. However, combat is not the intended use of these spores. In exchange for their labours, myconoids are gifted these hallucinogenic spores by their sovereigns in a massed ritual known as the melding. Hard to explain to those that have not experienced it, and only very rarely offered to non-myconids, groups that experience the melding collectively feel a powerful sense of oneness along with freedom from all worldly constraints. While their bodies sit in contemplative silence, their minds roam, create, and unify in realities that defy explanation.

For most myconids, the opportunity to meld with their fellows is the purpose of their existence, to an almost religious degree. Everything a myconid does is largely to ensure that she and her colony have the safety, health, and time to meld on a regular basis. Still, myconids don’t disparage reality for keeping them from their melding dreams; just as an artist must take time to eat and sleep in order to pursue her craft, the myconids understand that their duties in the real world are simply the price that needs paying to continue melding.

It is perhaps this fondness for melding that makes myconids so meek in physical interaction. Myconids produce no art in the real world but supposedly craft grand symphonies and sensory displays while melding. Myconids may tend against expansionism for the simple reason that they need so little from this world to achieve their desires, happy to while away their waking hours toiling in dark, forgotten corners so they can claim their incorruptible kingdom of united dreams.

Sex and Sexuality Among Myconids

Knowing that sudden growth in population could force them to expand and thus put them in conflict with generally hostile neighbours, myconid society generally controls how much individual myconids breed to keep the population relatively stable. As such, most myconid reproduction is done by a circle dedicated specifically to producing and raising children.

While many races would rail against such control from their leaders, the system works fairly well among myconids. While most myconids objectively know that sex is pleasurable, most consider greater pleasures to be achieved in melding in any case. As a result, the proportion of myconids who still feel a desire to fuck in real life is relatively small and can be assigned to the colony’s child-rearing circle without much issue.

When more children are needed, two myconids, typically of the child-rearing circle, will have sex with each other. Unlike many humanoids, sex is not a private or intimate affair for myconids; it is simply a duty, like farming a field or building a bridge, and while a myconid would rather breed with their friends than with a stranger, it does not need the attraction or commitment it traditionally calls for in other races.

Though physically similar to how creatures of flesh and blood do it at first, the myconid mating process diverts quite notably when sex is complete. Instead of a new myconid growing in her womb, impregnation causes a handful of fertilised spores to develop in the myconid’s fungal cap. These spores are taken by child-rearing myconids and planted in a specific patch. Raised much like regular mushrooms, these spores grow into fungi that, to start with, seem like fairly normal Underdark flora. However, about two to four years after planting, the mushroom grows breasts, develops personal awareness, and finally uproots herself as a myconid sprout.

Though able to move and produce rapport spores, myconid sprouts are still fairly vulnerable. As such, sprouts tend to stick to the more central, defensible parts of the colony, normally helping with whatever chores their tiny bodies allow them to assist in. Most sprouts grow into fully functional myconid adults, capable of finding their circle and possibly reproducing with other myconids at around eight to twelve years old.

Men to Myconids

As animate fungi, myconids are an all-female race. As such, men are especially alien to myconids and normally prompt some form of attention from them. Still, myconids are not generally prone to strong, sweeping generalisations about any creature based solely on their physical traits, and as such, manhood is likely to only result in mild curiosity or caution from any given myconid. In any case, simply being a man is unlikely to make a friend or an enemy out of a myconid, but it may predispose her to favourable or unfavourable perceptions. Though myconids of any station can have a range of opinions about men, child-rearing circles tend to incorporate myconids whose drive to reproduce is strongest and thus most conducive to treating a man favourably, while guards, scouts, and hunters are generally more cautious and suspicious.

When it comes to having sex with a myconid willingly, there are a number of social challenges. While a man can normally sway an average myconid’s interest by encouraging her curiosity in his masculinity and flesh and blood features while remaining unthreatening, most myconids will still want the permission of their sovereign before performing any activity that may result in a potential uptick in population, including potentially getting knocked up by a man. Depending on the current situation with the colony and their collective perception of the man, a sovereign may grant permission to fuck a willing myconid without a fuss, or a man may have a period of desperate persuasion and favour trading to overcome first.

Attempting to seduce the sovereign herself into fucking is a little harder than fucking the average myconid. While a normal myconid with a burgeoning desire to breed can transfer to the child-rearing circle, a myconoid sovereign’s physiologically ordained role as a leader is irrefutable, keeping them out of all circles and thus making their participation in sexual and reproductive activities unusual. However, this socially enforced chastity is normally more of a tradition than a law, so a sovereign may be persuaded to fuck in certain circumstances.

Chapter 197: Nagas

Rare and powerful, nagas in appearance resemble large serpents, around ten to twenty feet long, whose high intelligence is hinted at by their somewhat humanoid faces. Rarely working with one another, most nagas exist at the head of ancient religions and cults fostered over centuries of unending life. It is said that the nagas were once of one origin, but as their philosophies diverged, they physically changed, splitting into different kinds who now compete with each other for dominion of forgotten kingdoms, often through mortal proxies. Today, the most common of these divergent sects are the ruthless, self-centred spirit nagas and the benevolent, introspective guardian nagas, which will be covered along with a related offshoot in the chapters following this one. Regardless of philosophy, however, all nagas wish to rule, and no naga fears death.

Immortal Serpents

The dynasty of nagas has existed for thousands of years. Even still, most nagas alive today have been a part of that dynasty since its inception. As one may expect from this extensive reign, the passage of time is not much of a concern for a naga. Once a naga reaches their prime, they instantly stop aging, remaining in pristine condition for eternity. As well as the ravages of time, a naga can also do entirely without many things that mere mortals consider fundamental, needing not to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe, though they are at liberty to do any of these things at their leisure.

Though ageless and needless, nagas are technically not all-powerful. Though their magic is often powerful and their bite venomous, a naga can be brought low by mortal foes. However, such a demise is still not a true threat to a naga. Though a naga will usually take sensible steps to avoid their own death, usually by securing their domain with loyal guards and mystical traps, death is more of a minor inconvenience than the end of their reign. When a naga meets a violent end, her soul drifts in whatever plane most closely matches her philosophy for a few days before spontaneously returning to her body, causing it to come back to life in perfect condition, with no hint of their recent demise upon it. No natural force can divert a naga’s restoration; even if the body is cut to pieces, dissolved in acid, or burnt to ash, the naga will still spring forth in perfect condition, none the worse for wear. Only fundamental disruptions to reality, such as direct divine intervention or a genie-granted wish, can bring a slain naga’s immortality to an end.

According to the nagas themselves, the immortality of the nagas comes from their origin. Most nagas believe there was once a serpentine goddess called Shekinester. Shekinester was a deity of wisdom and philosophy in all its forms. Thanks to the plurality of her interests, Shekinester was a difficult deity to pin down in terms of morality, curious as she was to the benefits and drawbacks of good and evil alike. Unfortunately for her curiosity, Shekinester found that her lines of enquiry were often mutually exclusive, no single being, not even a goddess, can seek to reach the heights of beneficence and the depths of villainy simultaneously. To circumvent this, Shekinester turned herself from one being into multiple, shattering her divine being into multiple fragments, each instilled with her immortality, and a portion of both her understanding of the mystical and her curiosity to know more. Those shards that were filled with interest in the secrets of evil became spirit nagas, while those containing a draw to the philosophies of good became guardians.

Believing themselves to be made from the innate curiosity of a goddess, nagas of all kinds are constantly hungry for knowledge. Wherever secrets can be found, a naga will send underlings or go delving themselves in search of them. As well as simply remembering what they have learnt, nagas often collect artefacts of arcane power or historical importance for study, recollection, and safekeeping. Thanks to this, the well-guarded temples and strongholds that nagas tend to reside within are troves of not only long-forgotten lore but also highly valuable treasure hordes, which the naga and those they command will fight fiercely to protect and hunt mercilessly to reclaim if stolen.

Divine Monarchs

Believing themselves descended from the fragments of a goddess, all nagas, regardless of their moral stance, have an innate sense of superiority compared to mortal beings. This arrogance inspires most to lay claim to a territory and declare themselves the undying ruler of the land. Thanks to being able to ingratiate or threaten generations of people with divine aid or arcane wrath, most nagas eventually manage to carve out a kingdom for themselves.

Suiting their internal sense of grandeur, a naga’s home is usually a palace of exceptional opulence or a temple dedicated to their worship. In some places, this abode is open, and the ruling naga is a known public figure who receives the worship of their subjects and acolytes openly. In other places, a naga may disguise their nature or rule through mortal proxies, keeping their existence and preeminence over her kingdom a secret to all but a select group of sycophants and attendants.

Once a naga has a kingdom, they thankfully tend not to seek expansion, happy to be worshipped or even just to have lands to call their own, many nagas happily presiding over stretches of desert or jungle that have lacked permanent mortal habitation for centuries. Still, nagas do look past their borders from time to time, usually not in pursuit of conquest, but in hopes of attaining specific knowledge, historic artefacts, arcane power, or even simply an opportunity to further their philosophic beliefs. As such, while it is rare for nagas to march armies upon neighbouring kingdoms, they frequently send spies, thieves, or simply slither in themselves to attain what they desire.

When met in person, all nagas desire the respect, if not outright simpering submission, of all they meet. Insults and challenges to their authority seldom go over well and can bring contempt from even the most even-tempered naga. For all their own arrogance, nagas also tend to find a sense of superiority in others to be similarly aggravating to direct impoliteness, even in creatures they begrudgingly admit have earned such high opinions of themselves, such as powerful extraplanar beings, ancient dragons, and even other nagas. As such, even nagas of similar philosophies tend to interact with each other only sparingly and keep visits brief and to the point.

This disdain for non-worshippers has also inspired a centuries-long rivalry between nagas and a race many erroneously believe are related. Though similarly serpentine, the yuan-ti generally do not include nagas amongst their variety of serpent goddesses. This insult to the nagas’ self-perceived divinity has caused tension between the two races since they first encountered one another. On occasion, nagas may press yuan-ti into service, or a cult of yuan-ti may humour a naga’s desire to be worshipped in pursuit of a common goal, but such alliances are generally short-lived with a great deal of distrust and disdain on both sides. More often than not, the two serpentine peoples work against one another.

Sex and Sexuality Among Nagas

As immortal beings who thus lack the common concerns of royalty surrounding heirs and inheritance, nagas generally lack much in the way of inspiration to breed. This is generally for the best, according to nagas, for in most cases breeding would require going to find another of their kind and cooperating with them in intimate sexual activity. Seeing how aggravating nagas find one another’s arrogance to be, having less reason to interact with one another is generally preferable for most.

Still, nagas are fundamentally curious beings, and as such, few entirely abandon sex as a subject of study. Instead of going through the social hurdles of seeking out one another, nagas tend to fuck other creatures instead. The preferred sexual partner of any given naga varies depending on a variety of subjects. Some seek out similarly reptilian beings such as basilisks, young dragons, dinosaurs, and various giant serpents. Others prefer to lay with their servants and worshippers, their sexual cooperation as simply another act of deserved devotion. Though these experiences can be as pleasurable as they can be elucidating, female nagas cannot impregnate or get pregnant from most of these pairings.

Though they rarely need to, female nagas can get pregnant by breeding with their own kind. Generally, this sort of situation is only called for under specific circumstances. While generally not expansionist, nagas do keep an eye on nearby kingdoms they know to be ruled by other nagas. In the unlikely event that a naga is rendered permanently dead or incapable of rulership, that is often a scramble for power between their neighbours to ensure the position is filled by a preferable candidate. While rarely interested in expanding their own rule, a guardian will likely desire another guardian naga to take on the role to prevent the position from being taken by a spirit naga, while spirit nagas will likewise desire one of their own kind to take the throne to prevent guardian nagas from encroaching. This mutual desire to fill vacant kingdoms can sometimes inspire nagas of any kind to breed with one another to produce a new ruler.

When two nagas of the same kind agree that a new naga must be made, their mating tends to be swift and direct, consummating the necessary tasks while minimising the social interaction involved. Shortly after mating, one of the nagas will lay an egg and spend the next century guarding it. Once an egg hatches, its relationship to its parent is generally cordial but distant. Nagas are born with a broad enough base of knowledge to ensure that they do not need direct tutorship from their parents to survive, so they can normally be sent off and planted in whatever kingdom they were born to rule practically from the moment they hatch. A naga builds on their innate knowledge base through study and generally reaches adult size after another century of life.

Men to Nagas

Though it varies, most nagas have varying and conflicting feelings men in general. On the one hand, mortal men tend to have a degree of arrogance that rubs most nagas the wrong way. Thanks to this, most nagas tend to keep men away from themselves, bonding their underlings to refuse men access to meet them or interacting with them through intermediaries when necessary. At the same time however, the natural curiosity that spurs nagas into action, makes them inherently interested in discovering what they can about things as rarely seen as a man and his activities. A man traversing a naga’s kingdom may therefore find the goings trailed by spies or may be presented with audiences with various political figures, all at the naga’s command.

Despite this curiosity, however, nagas are often incredibly difficult to persuade into having sex with a man. A naga impregnated by a man, will lay an egg that hatches into a naga. Lacking any desire to have descendants, believing fully that she will be able to rule by herself for eternity, undesired offspring are little more than competition in the eyes of a naga, specifically being competition that is almost impossible to permanently kill. This isn’t to say that naga do not get curious about the sensations of fucking a man during their long lives, many do but the hassle of dealing unexpected new nagas means that the investigation is rarely considered worth it. Many nagas sate their curiosity by fucking male undead or male beasts, who, even if they impregnate them, will not cause them to birth a rival naga.

The one time a naga may want to be impregnated by a man is on the rare occasion a space in the naga kingdoms has opened up, and she wants it filled by a member of her kind. Since a mortal man is considered more easily gotten rid of and generally less aggravating than another naga, nagas looking to get pregnant often look to men in preference to their own kind. Often, when the disputed territory lies between that of a guardian and a spirit naga, the two will compete fiercely with each other to seduce or deceive the man into fucking them. Though a naga in such a position will often go to astounding lengths to have a man impregnate her, she will not plead for his cock. No matter the situation, a naga will always insist that the chance to have sex with her glorious self is a privilege and should be treated as such.

As the fragments of a goddess, all of the first generation of nagas were female. However, in the millennia since then, there have been rare rumours of male nagas having been born. According to the more compelling whispers, there are a total of two male nagas in existence. Known as the Crimson and Verdant Kings, the location of these two nagas, a spirit and guardian naga respectively, is unknown. However, it is thought that the idea of having to share the world with yet more nagas is as uncomfortable a proposition for them as it is for female nagas. Thus, they focus their sexual efforts on other females, particularly their servants and worshippers. Offspring of women impregnated by male nagas apparently show a remarkable lack of visible serpentine features. However, their immortal lineage does seem to grant them longer lifespans, resistance to poison, and the potential to become knowledgeable and wise.

Chapter 198: Bone Naga

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter covers a corporeal undead creature (A skeletal one). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness. if sex with skeletons is not your cup of tea, please skip this chapter.

It is a rarely spoken fact that, short of some brief, pragmatic alliances, the serpentine yuan-ti and the nagas tend not to get along, prosecuting a silent war in the shadows that has stretched on for centuries. Though far greater in number, the yuan-ti were at a disadvantage in this war by virtue of the fact that their foes are, for the most part, unkillable in any significant way. In search of a way to remove or subvert this strength of immortality, the yuan-ti turned to their dark goddesses. Eventually, they devised a ritual.

If, in the few days it stays dead before resurrecting, a naga’s corpse is taken to an appropriate yuan-ti temple or ritual grounds, a necromantic rite can be cast over the body. Should it succeed, the naga’s soul returns to a body stripped of flesh, a skeletal servitor magically bound to the serpentfolk’s will. As such, the dark ritual not only rids the yuan-ti of a particularly troublesome foe, but also gains them an enviable undead servant in the form of a bone naga.

Skeletal Soul Cage

At first glance, a bone naga may greatly resemble any other undead skeleton of a large serpent. At rest, the bone naga resembles a normal, inanimate snake skeleton, while the ghostly impression of its breasts and uterus becomes more visible as it becomes active. However, a bone naga is a far more complex undead than the common skeleton. In most necromantic circles, a skeleton refers to a selection of bones granted a simulated mockery of life by the introduction of some near-mindless, deathly spiritual entity from the Negative Energy Plane. A bone creature, such as a bone naga, on the other hand, only uses negative energy to enable its continued persistence despite the lack of muscles, organs, and the like; the creature’s seat of being remains the soul it had in life.

In some cases, this ensoulment allows a bone creature to retain its autonomy, living almost as if they were still alive, save for the bodily limitations of being just bones and the psychological burden of being trapped in a dead husk of one’s former self. Bone nagas are seldom afforded this freedom. Though they retain much of their living intellect, including their ability to speak and think for themselves, the ritual yuan-ti use to create bone nagas also forces them to the bottommost rung of yuan-ti society, turning the once proud naga into an undead slave.

To a bone naga, any order given to them by a yuan-ti of the kingdom that raised them is irrefutable, save when an instruction runs counter to one from a yuan-ti of superior rank. Even when uninstructed, a bone naga receives no freedom. Without orders to act, a bone naga exists in a state of enforced physical inactivity, its body completely still with only its mind allowed to function. Over centuries, a bone naga’s mind tends to be worn down by the complete lack of self-direction; while a bone naga remains intelligent, its memory and awareness of events before its undeath become less and less functional.

A bone naga’s morality also suffers. Being unable to pursue its own curiosity, the crux of what all nagas live for, and forced to follow the yuan-ti’s usually heartless whims, bone nagas lose their sense of fascination or investigative spirit. A bone naga does not care about how something happened, what something is, or why it is there; a bone naga simply longs to destroy anything it is permitted to, partially out of jealousy for the freedom the living, even the enslaved living, have in comparison to it, partially in the hopes that with enough violence, something will eventually destroy it.

All of the strict commands a bone naga is under work to restrict its body, not its soul, which is simply imprisoned along for the ride by the necromantic ritual that bound it. If something successfully damages a bone naga’s skeleton enough for its animating force to lose cohesion, the soul is thus freed. With freedom finally received, virtually no naga soul would be stupid enough to return to slavery by trying to reclaim its cursed bones. As such, while it is technically possible, bone nagas almost never resurrect after being slain.

Serpent Guards

While sometimes used as repositories of information or as indentured researchers into arcane secrets, yuan-ti tend to only appreciate the intellectual capabilities of bone naga for a few centuries, until the point where their dwindling sanity and loss of curiosity in the face of utter inautonomy makes them less efficient for mental tasks. Instead, a bone naga’s hunger for violence and total loyalty, enforced by magic, combined with its ability to stay in one place for millennia without care or attention, makes it most valuable as formidable guards for treasure vaults, brood chambers, and forgotten shrines to dark, serpentine goddesses.

Physically, a bone naga is a formidable foe, though perhaps not as formidable as a living naga would be; the animating magics are not quite able to match the strength and flexibility afforded by semidivine muscle, even though the dubious blessings of serpent goddesses allow the bone naga’s dry fangs to continue envenomating its victims. Still, a bone naga is not an opponent for even experienced warriors to take lightly.

As well as its venomous bite and slithering agility, a bone naga also retains some of its magical nature from its living days. Though the mental degradation of years in total slavery limits its ability to recall its magical powers, it can still recite magic words from memory or feign devotion to beneficent philosophies it has long lost faith in well enough to conjure forth a not insignificant array of spells. Many an adventurer expecting to fight a bony snake has been put on the back foot when a bone naga proceeded to blast them with bolts of lightning and weave baneful curses.

Still, bone nagas tend to be more subtle with their spellcasting, preferring to kill with the direct brutality of their fangs, both for the visceral rush it alights their imprisoned soul with and how it improves their chances of also being killed. A bone naga typically uses its magic to make the victim more vulnerable, manipulating their mind through magical charms or divine commands, softening them up with sleep or calmed emotions, or simply restraining them with magic while they slither up to land the final blow. Of course, such manipulative magics also make bone nagas particularly well suited to managing uncooperative guests without killing them, a fact many yuan-ti have noticed. Bone nagas are thus also often employed to oversee, threaten, and magically corral their yuan-ti masters’ mortal prisoners and slaves.

Sex and Sexuality Among Bone Nagas

Like skeletons, bone nagas are essentially the bare minimum of sexuality as required by Nymphona. A ghostly pair of breasts hovers in front of a bone naga’s ribs while a pussy and uterus are further down her tail. These features can be touched and manipulated somewhat, and bone nagas seem to feel a dull sensation when this is done, but in truth, the features barely exist, fading into invisibility when the bone naga stops moving.

The yuan-ti do have a rather unrestrained sexual culture; when it comes to sex for pleasure, yuan-ti will have sex with pretty much any reptilian creature they wish. Still, it is rare for even the yuan-ti to fuck bone nagas, even though many consider zombies and other undead to be fair game. This is out of a combination of factors, not only the physical discomfort of bringing one’s body against the hard, bony form of a serpentine skeleton but also out of political tensions.

Thanks to the complex ritual involved in their creation, bone nagas are generally considered the direct property of the ruling yuan-ti abominations, specifically those of priestly authority. As such, most lesser yuan-ti prefer to use bone nagas only as they have been instructed to for fear of being accused of mistreating their ruler’s personal possession otherwise, a crime of often lethal consequences. The abominations, meanwhile, generally prefer to keep their sexual activities to more admirable and talented sexual companions.

Men to Bone Nagas

Thanks to its enslaved nature, a bone naga’s desire to fuck a man, or lack thereof, is generally immaterial to the difficulty a man will find in having sex with them. On the occasions a male yuan-ti appears, he need only receive permission from the undead’s owner to fuck it, normally given in the hopes of generating more offspring to serve as guards or tools of assassination. Any other male, however, is unlikely to attain such easy access to a bone naga’s incorporeal womb.

Even in the absence of its mistresses, a bone naga is usually under orders to capture or kill any intruder, regardless of sex; a bone naga will thus not hesitate to attack a man who stumbles across it. Like most undead, however, bone nagas have all but non-existent fertility. Even a man’s cum is unlikely to impregnate a bone naga’s disembodied semi-non-existent womb. In the rare event a bone naga does get pregnant, she produces an egg that hatches into a skeletal infant naga. However, since a bone naga’s offspring is not instilled with a soul and is instead fuelled entirely by the power of undeath, the offspring is no more intelligent than an ordinary undead skeleton and has none of its mother’s magical capabilities bar the ability to manifest venom despite lacking glands. The offspring of a bone naga is thus practically identical to a reanimated snake skeleton, with only an expert on snakes being able to tell them apart.

As far as can be surmised, it appears that all bone nagas are currently female. It seems that this is likely a matter of probability rather than possibility. While there is no reason to suppose the rituals of the yuan-ti wouldn’t work on a male naga, there seem to only be two male nagas in existence, and neither the Crimson King nor the Verdant King has yet fallen into the yuan-ti’s clutches. One would have to imagine a male bone naga would be physically similar to a male skeleton of any kind, possessing a ghostly replica of their living cock, but being utterly sterile.

Chapter 199: Guardian Naga (Art)

Defined by their goldish green scales and their sagacious temperament, guardian nagas represent the desire of the goddess Shekinester to explore philosophies of magnanimity and concern for others made manifest. Operating with high-minded wisdom, guardian nagas consider themselves the minders of other living things and watchers of potential danger, bound by their own exceptional nature to oversee the well-being of mere mortals with divine power and centuries of wisdom.

Philosophies in Action

In the surprisingly humanlike expressions of a guardian naga, one can see a surprising array of emotions for such a reptilian creature. A guardian naga smiles when pleased, scowls at misdeeds, and may even shed genuine tears or remorse at tragedies they were unable to prevent. Most of the time, however, a guardian naga remains deep in thought. When not otherwise occupied, a guardian naga attempts to strictly define their personal beliefs on matters of morality and society. Though specifics vary, most guardian nagas largely agree that the world ought to be a precise construct of order, where each individual is placed so as to maximise the happiness and well-being of all, and that it is a ruler’s heavy task to take the service and obedience of their loyal subjects and use it to see to the safety and comfort of those same subjects.

Though it may seem it at times, a guardian naga does not spend her eternal life idly speculating on hypothetical utopias. On a wider scale, a guardian naga applies her beliefs to a myriad of plans. With eternity to work, guardian nagas normally prefer to put their energy into operations that cause gradual but lasting change in societies. A guardian naga may work to gradually sap resources from a villainous queen’s bloodline, or bolster a branch of the family more given to kindness so that they may be in a position to seize the throne a few generations later. A guardian naga may help found a monastery based on her ideals, creating a centre point from which those ideals may spread to the general populous. Even great evils like chromatic dragons and archfiends may be systematically brought down as a hundred tiny actions against them by the naga and her servants over centuries are suddenly brought crashing down on their heads.

In a more immediate fashion, philosophy also serves as the root of a guardian naga’s power. A guardian naga’s magic is divine, akin in many ways to the sort of magic cast by a mortal cleric. However, while some guardian nagas may choose to associate their moral outlook with that of a particular goddess, most do not. Instead, the average guardian naga draws her magic from faith in her own divinity and her constant desire to explore and refine their personal philosophy.

So strong is a guardian naga’s convictions that it manifests as holy power. When a guardian naga gives a command, her belief in the ultimate necessity of obedience to her authority makes the order all but irrefutable. When a guardian naga speaks of the virtues of kindness and mercy, her genuine belief closes wounds and quells violence. So strong is a guardian naga’s desire for truth that she draws clairvoyant visions to her mind and cuts through illusions with her eyes. A guardian naga does more than just learn, fix, and command, however. When faced with evil, a  guardian naga does not hesitate to bring her fangs and poison spit upon it. However, a guardian naga’s most potent venom may be in her words. In combat against those that would do evil, the guardian naga rails against their wicked ways, not only disparaging the selfish and cruel for  their short sighted foolishness, but also manifesting her distain to cast fiends from reality and consume all that remains in holy fire.

Benevolent Dictators

Guardian nagas, kind as they can be, believe first and foremost that in order for the world to be the best it can be, they must find themselves in positions of rulership, be it as a revered elder, high priestess, or all-powerful queen. While a guardian naga understands a mortal’s apprehension to be ruled by them and would never knowingly use their influence to make an innocent person’s life worse, they generally see a desire for personal freedom as a shortsighted and ultimately misguided impulse that mortals should rein in for the greater good.

While some guardian nagas rule openly in kingdoms that have had them long enough to be used to a serpentine queen, many hold sway behind the scenes, giving themselves humanoid disguises or puppet rulers for the comfort of their subjects. In these cases, only a small number of individuals will know the truth, an inner circle of faithful sycophants or eager students. These individuals are often influential nobles or respected sages in the public eye, but a guardian naga is always ready to seize power directly if need be. After all, while mortals are generally well-meaning, a guardian naga knows they are far more vulnerable than her to bouts of selfishness and foolish decisions.

Though they state themselves to act always in the interest of those they rule, many guardian nagas are happy enough to accept the perks of rulership, such as fine food, grand ceremonies, and treasure, often gathered either as taxes from their subjects, gifts from allies, or spoils of war. Yet, guardian nagas justify these luxuries in the name of the greater good.

When it comes to material goods, a guardian naga generally splits her reasons for acquiring and protecting them into three categories. For coinage, gems, and other materially valuable items, a guardian naga’s excuse for collecting them is generally the same as any moral ruler’s: a base of capital is necessary to pay those who serve you, finance campaigns against the forces of evil, and fund works that serve the public good.

Less pragmatically, treasures like artworks and magical artefacts are often kept by a guardian naga for sentimental reasons; a golden bangle may have been a gift from a long-dead ally, while an enchanted sword may have been wielded by a tyrant brought down by their virtuous forces. Other times, an artefact is more sinister. If one were allowed to delve into the best-hidden, trap-ridden corners of a guardian naga’s treasure vault, one may find cursed weaponry, sealed-away fiends of centuries past, and forbidden tomes holding knowledge and magic capable of bringing misery to thousands if misused. Similar to their position on rulership, guardian nagas keep these foul things under the belief that only they can be trusted to keep them safe, not being tempted to use them selfishly as so many mortals might.

Sex and Sexuality Among Guardian Nagas

Though appreciative of the good more guardian nagas could do, the average guardian naga seems to believe that the current number in existence is sufficient. Being immortal, guardian nagas therefore do not think of breeding unless they become aware of a decrease in their population. This doesn’t exactly mean that a guardian naga is averse to sex, however.

Though specifics vary somewhat between individuals, curiosity is a fundamental driving force in all nagas, including guardian nagas. As such, most will at least investigate the idea of having sex at some point. Most guardian nagas, on having investigated the matter fully, chose not to vilify sex as a concept and usually don’t put too many restrictions surrounding it on those they consider their subjects, beyond outlawing rape and similar legal measures common in all civilised places. Some guardian nagas may try to enforce some more conservative habits in their populous, such as a discouragement of sex workers or incentives to await marriage before partaking in sex, but such controls are not ubiquitous across the race.

Far from devoid of their own emotions and desires, it is not strange for a guardian naga to begin seeking sexual partners for herself. Some nagas are known to seek individual wives to fulfil their needs, staying loyal each in turn for their lifetimes. How these wives are chosen varies, but they are often exceptional specimens in one way or another, often being high priestesses of the naga’s worship, nobles of trusted families, or heroes who did great deeds in the naga’s name before she seduced them into becoming her beloved bride.

Other guardian nagas are less individually attached to their lovers and choose instead to permit any woman of her trusted inner circle to be part of her harem. A guardian naga always makes becoming one of her consorts or wives a voluntary position and avoids letting her lust sway her to immoral decisions, but many voluntarily give themselves to their queen in hopes of favour or simply out of devotion to her.

Men to Guardian Nagas

In most cases, a guardian naga tries her best to give men a fair chance while still treating them with a sizable amount of caution. Wise and circumspect, guardian nagas know that while it is rare for men to settle down until particularly late in their lives, they are as diverse in morality as any mortal and, should they embrace or be guided to the path of good, are capable of being a great heroic asset to a kingdom they choose to roam. Guardian nagas thus keep a close eye on any man they hear tell of, using a combination of clairvoyant magic and loyal spies to determine his adherence to the side of good or susceptibility to being brought to the side of good should their moral fibre be lacking, ready to recruit a man or fend him off from her citizens should he be a danger. Though hesitant to promise sexual favours for services, and she will never force someone to have sex with a man for her benefit, a guardian naga is often willing to play matchmaker and help a man who proves to be helpful and of acceptable moral character find an eager companion or two among her subjects.

At the same time, however, a guardian naga also knows that many men, even those who are otherwise well-meaning, can become fixated on fucking particular individuals, often becoming aggravatingly insistent. Since men are also capable of knocking her up, a guardian naga virtually never voluntarily has sex, unless she is faced with one of the rare situations where she wants to boost the guardian naga population. Guardian nagas generally avoid the resultant frustration by keeping their distance from men, generally communicating with them through trusted intermediaries and the like.

In the rare situation where a guardian naga does want to get pregnant, they may pick a man they know to be nearby to try and draw in for sex. Though it doesn’t seem that the moral outlook of a man changes the morality of the guardian naga’s offspring, most still perform an in-depth test of their target’s morality before accepting him, sometimes even subtly placing tests of character in the man’s path to see how he responds. While, as one may expect, evil men are swiftly rejected as mates on principal, it does not necessarily take the heights of virtue to catch a broody guardian naga’s eye. There are stories of men who, while not wholly evil, were either misguided or disillusioned with the world’s potential for cruelty, who a guardian naga took as a personal challenge to awaken to the wonders of kindness and nobility before mating with him.

When it comes to male guardian nagas, there is only one who is spoken of in legend, the Verdant King. Named for his green scales, the Verdant King apparently rules a kingdom hidden in a dense tropical jungle, his subjects being the numerous tribes of humanoids who visit his overgrown palace to praise him. Many come seeking his wisdom of centuries, and many more come hoping to be blessed by his cock. Many sages, priestesses, clerics, monks, and druids of legendary prominence claim either to have been inspired by his teachings or descended from those women whom he chose to breed.

Notes:

Big thanks to Draw&Nap for the art in this chapter. Check them out on Twitter/X https://twitter.com/draw_nap

Chapter 200: Spirit Naga

With typically black and red scales in various patterns, the first spirit nagas were said to have been born of Shekinester’s desire to comprehend the depths of selfishness and cruelty. Therefore, most spirit nagas are naturally born with supreme self-interest, claiming rulership to feed their ego, exert their power, and claim all their kingdom’s knowledge and treasure for themselves. In the malicious eyes of a spirit naga, mortals are only useful as sycophants to praise her, slaves to do as she demands, or prey for her to slaughter.

Serpentine Witch Queens

Though undoubtedly a highly magical creature, a spirit naga’s spells do not occur naturally to her as they do to many supernatural beings. The reason for this is thought by many to be a result of their highly covetous nature. For a spirit naga, claiming something is far more valuable to them than having it. A spirit naga sends out bands of loyal thugs and soldiers to extract tribute from those that enter their domain. Meanwhile, rumours of magical artefacts, arcane secrets, and individuals of importance drive a spirit naga to concoct grand schemes to steal them, either by subtle espionage or open invasion.

Once a spirit naga has something, she will gloat over it for a while but then swiftly grow bored, often tossing it into a vault somewhere and all but forgetting about it. This does not make whatever was taken easy to reclaim, however. Once a spirit naga knows that someone wants something of theirs, that thing suddenly becomes valuable to them again, if only for the misery denying it to others causes. A spirit naga is unlikely to relinquish anything of hers without a fight unless she can be offered something of exceptionally greater value in return.

Thanks to this desire to claim rather than have, spirit nagas generally use magic they had to learn rather than any power they were born with. Though they do not suffer from lacking the limbs for complex somatic gestures and rarely wield wands or staffs themselves, the magic of a spirit naga is generally very much akin to the magic cast by mortal wizards, though very much more advanced thanks to centuries of study. Natural geniuses by mortal standards, spirit nagas spend much of their time deep in magical study. Meanwhile, some of the most treasured prizes a spirit naga may claim is a spellbook from a famous wizard.

Spirit nagas can, of course, learn the same wide variety of magics available to any wizard and tend to keep some amount of magical variety at hand to keep themselves flexible for potential dangers; most have a preference for enchantment spells, spells that bend the will of their victim and force them to obey the caster. This serves a dual purpose.

Generally, spirit nagas are used to getting their way. Even without magic, a spirit naga can generally sway, lie, or threaten those around them into obeying their whims, thanks not only to their fearsome reputation but also to being surprisingly capable of being persuasive, charming, or even sounding reasonable when they want to, having an almost preternatural way with words. This charm is only skin deep, however, and there is no faster way to reveal a spirit naga’s petulant, controlling nature than to refuse their request, even the most frivolous, unimportant one. When a spirit naga isn’t obeyed, they will not hesitate to correct the situation by forcing a mortal to do as they say through magic.

In situations where words are no longer sufficient to get what they want and a spirit naga must fight to claim it, they are rarely disappointed; with no fear of death and no qualms about hurting others for their own advancement, most spirit nagas take a sadistic glee in murdering people, sometimes to the point of preferring violence over subtler schemes. While the average spirit naga has the magical know-how to blast a foe asunder with lightning bolts or the like, most prefer to kill their victims in a more intimate way. Using enchantments, a spirit naga renders their victims unconscious, paralysed, deluded into considering them a friend, or otherwise helpless before slithering in close and finishing them with their venomous fangs.

Eternal Vengeance

Like all nagas, a spirit naga has virtually no reason to fear death. In most cases, a spirit naga who is killed will return to life in less than a tenday, none the worse for wear. However, this doesn’t mean that a spirit naga is entirely fine with being killed. In the short days that they are dead, a spirit naga is not around to guard their possessions, meaning that thieves can make off with some of their treasure, including their killer. Even if a person who slays a spirit naga were to resist the temptation of their vast treasure horde, spirit nagas see the humiliation of being killed by a mortal as a direct insult to their reputation. Even if the spirit naga attacked their victim unprovoked, and the victim only fought back in self-defence, killing the naga is still an insult that must be answered in the naga’s eyes.

Spirit nagas are not hasty creatures when it comes to taking revenge. If an easy way to hurt those that have killed, robbed, or embarrassed them becomes available, they will go for it, but with an eternity to plot, a spirit naga’s vengeance can be years or even decades in the making. A spirit naga’s first step when they feel wronged is usually to find out as much about their perceived malefactor as possible. Using a combination of scrying magics and mortal spies, the spirit naga attempts to find out their victim’s location as well as any loved ones, personal dreams, and hidden fears.

Once equipped with knowledge, the naga will begin a relentless campaign designed to bring misery to the one who slew her. From the shadows, the spirit naga will drive their killer’s homeland into crisis, murder their family, turn allies against them, and drag their legacy through the mud. Oftentimes, a spirit naga’s target may die before her vengeance is fully realised, but a spirit naga has no issues with taking out their vengeance on their killer’s descendants instead. In this way, most spirit nagas have a handful of mortal families they occasionally direct their attention and servants towards tormenting, simply because of one ancestor forgotten by all but the naga herself.

Arguably worse is when a naga is robbed. In this event, a naga uses her magic to track down each and every item she has had stolen, starting with more valuable and beloved pieces but eventually winding down to individual coins and baubles. For each item, the naga or her agents will hunt down whoever is in possession of her treasures and kill them before taking it back, even if the current holder is completely innocent of the theft and had no way of knowing that a coin that has likely changed hands multiple times was once stolen from a spirit naga’s horde.

Sex and Sexuality Among Spirit Nagas

Like most nagas, spirit nagas generally do not like one another’s presence. In the case of spirit nagas, the two inflated egos tend to grate against one another until violence is all but inevitable, leading to a war of constant vengeance between two immortal serpents. Recognising the pointlessness of such an engagement but being too prideful to call such conflicts off once they are in motion, spirit nagas generally avoid such entanglement by simply keeping a distance from one another. Spirit nagas also dislike the idea of producing offspring for similar reasons, seeing their children as simply another immortal rival to contend with. The only time producing a new spirit naga is preferable is when a nearby area of territory is unruled, and leaving it empty invites the encroachment of benevolent, evil-fighting neighbours, such as guardian nagas. Better to have a fellow villain with their own malicious desires next door than some wannabe hero intent on interrupting your schemes for the rest of eternity.

While usually uninterested in breeding, sex is often another matter entirely for spirit nagas. Born curious and hungry for their own pleasure, most spirit nagas will engage in sex without a second thought. Not looking for an heir, most spirit nagas acquire lovers of other races to pleasure them, gathering together a harem of humanoid concubines to fuck. To begin with, a spirit naga’s sexual companion may simply be slaves, individuals captured or bought who are kept in line by a combination of fear and occasional magical compulsion.

Over time, however, as a spirit naga solidifies their rule over a domain, they shift away from outright intimidation towards a cult of personality, using a combination of propaganda and public feats of genius and magical power to keep subjects in awe of their power, or the power of a false persona they give their public. At this stage, women may begin to desperately fight for the right to be in the naga’s royal harem, desperate not only for the marginally better life being given any position in court may earn them, but also for the chance to pleasure their illustrious ruler.

Of course, a spirit naga hardly ever abandons her willingness to force particularly appealing individuals into their bedchamber; some may even begin to miss the days when women struggled against the inevitability of lying with them. As such, a spirit naga may occasionally look beyond the bounds of their kingdom in search of women in positions one can brag about stealing from, arranging for her to be kidnapped and brought to them as a less than willing concubine.

Few spirit nagas allow for their sexual tastes to be fully encapsulated into humanoid standards of decency, however. Most spirit nagas are, understandably, attracted to various creatures of similar scaly nature to themselves, often keeping a menagerie of large serpents, dinosaurs, and various reptilian monsters to fuck. Beyond what may be explained by kindred nature, spirit nagas also fuck a range of other monsters and creatures. Notably, spirit nagas often look to necromancy for sexual purposes, seeing it as a method of maintaining possession of a concubine long after their natural death.

Men to Spirit Nagas

Strongly curious, a rarity such as a man lingering in or near her domain normally arouses a spirit naga’s interest rapidly. As such, a man can expect to be under a spirit naga’s close scrutiny, either by magic or by spies, for as long as he is within her political reach. At the same time, however, spirit nagas recognise that a man could very well impregnate her with a naga, which could well become a permanent thorn in her side if he was allowed to fuck her. As such, spirit nagas often explore their sexual interest in males with male undead and male beasts such as snakes and dinosaurs, since these males lack the ability to impregnate her with nagas.

Generally, if a humanoid man stays out of a spirit naga’s affairs, she will prefer to watch him from a distance and largely leave him alone, perhaps even finding entertainment in his exploits should he be the sort to rape women he meets. At the same time, however, all of this close observation means that a man can be quickly found out if he does something harmful to the spirit naga’s schemes or comes into possession of something the naga may desire, thus swiftly making him a target for her more aggressive machinations. What is more, when a man kills, steals from, rapes, or otherwise wrongs a spirit naga, the vast amount of children he may have to his name may give the spirit naga many targets for revenge, possibly leading her to sow misery on a national scale.

On the rare occasions when a spirit naga wants to have a child, she normally prefers using a man compared to another spirit naga. After all, if a man becomes annoyingly egotistical, she can simply kill him or cast him out once she’s done with his cock with no lasting consequences as far as she’s concerned. Spirit nagas are generally not that fussy when it comes to picking a man to breed them, though when they have the opportunity, they often try to make a game out of their breeding. Feigning genuine personal interest in the man, the spirit naga attempts to seduce him over a lengthy period. During this time, she tries to corrupt him away from any moral viewpoints and turn him into a selfish and cruel man, delighting her with the change she has wrought upon him. If a man cannot be swayed to evil yet still believes she has affection for him, the naga receives what satisfaction she can by tearing the delusion away, revealing that she was only using him to have a child and to spread more evil into the world, hoping to break the man’s heart and shake his sense of optimism.

The one male spirit naga, the Crimson King, is said to live hidden under a desert kingdom, its mortal queen actually just being the most loyal slut in his vast harem. In most stories, the Crimson King is said to live a lot like females of his kind, ruling from the shadows, amassing heaps of treasure, learning great arcane magics, and plotting revenge against those that he feels have wronged him and their dependents, namely individuals he tried to rape who got away. With the political and magical power to fuck anything in her domain, the crimson king has bred many offspring, resistant to poison and gifted with a natural knack for learning. Many of these children are said to have become wizards of terrible power, and many more have apparently thrown themselves into the Crimson King’s harem in the hopes of learning some of his arcane magic or being gifted some power as his warlocks.

Chapter 201: Nightmare

When a nightmare thunders through the night, fear latches onto the mind of any who catch a glimpse of its pitch-black form or smell the brimstone on its ragged breath. Superficially a nightmare resembles a horse, her fur coal black, but it does not take much to realise it is no natural beast. With flames springing from its hooves, tail, and mane, this fiend can spread destruction and terror through the night only for it to vanish in a cloud of foul smoke, leaving only scorched hoofprints to mark its passing.

Horrific Corruption

Nightmares are in no way natural fiends. They are not born of the Lower Planes and do not arise there by the dissension of a soul damned for its living misdeeds. Instead, a nightmare is the dreadful final product of an inconceivably horrible process performed on a creature of incomparable innocence, namely, a pegasus. Thanks to the celestial nature of pegasi, most are thankfully out of reach for those of an evil enough disposition to consider befouling them, but some pegasi do roam the Material Plane, and though both rare and swift, fiendish masters will reward their cultists handsomely for their capture.

The precise details of the ritual to transform a pegasus into a nightmare are not widely known, and few mortals could bear to know it even if the information was widely available. Generally, the deed is done somewhere in the Lower Planes. This is for multiple reasons, not least of all because of how beings with even a sliver of morality within them recoil at the ritual; only a creature with the sadistic cruelty of a fiend could hear the sounds of a pegasus being subjected to this evil and not be compelled to intervene. In addition, the ritual requires a great deal of water from the River Styx, a river of concentrated evil that flows throughout the Lower Planes, capable of washing away every trace of benevolence within the pegasus’ mind, but not before their wings’ torturous removal.

Once the ritual is complete, virtually nothing of the pegasus remains. The celestial’s mind and spirit erased, the nightmare is a fiendish engine of malice, charging across the land at a pace that outstrips the fastest mortal steeds, chasing down victims with ease. Few boundaries can stop a nightmare in pursuit, for while wingless, nightmares retain their ability to fly, stomping on the smoke-laden air that surrounds them. Even solid walls do not stop a nightmare, for she can pass into the ethereal plane in a cloud of brimstone and pass through like a ghost, only to reappear past the barrier in a gout of hellish fire. Once upon a victim, the nightmare stomps upon them mercilessly with her flaming hooves before eating them alive.

Though they have a preference for mortal flesh, most nightmares live within the Lower Planes where they were corrupted, needing, like most fiends, to be called to the Material Plane. Those nightmares that have escaped the Lower Planes tend to make their home in the gloom of the Shadowfell or the inferno that is the Elemental Plane of Fire, using their ethereal stride to navigate the Inner Planes with ease, tracking down shadowed corners and blazing calderas from which to burst out into the Material Plane for a night of hunting.

Fiendish Steeds

Nightmares are usually made not only for the sick pleasure such capable fiends feel from corrupting one as pure as a pegasus but also to serve a useful function as a mount and a mark of villainous prestige. All manner of fiends crave nightmares as their personal mode of transport, be they demon or devil, as do all manner of other vile beings, such as hags, oni, death knights, and vampires. However, with how difficult pegasi are to capture, only a select few may be worthy of attaining a nightmare steed. Even certain mortals, particularly fallen paladins, priestesses of dark goddesses, and evil wizards, can learn how to summon a nightmare with the right diabolical favours.

Even if nightmares were more plentiful, it takes more than just putting a saddle upon a nightmare and mounting her to become her rider. A nightmare who does not respect a being who dares to jump onto her back will incinerate them with her mane, throw them off, and devour them. Some cults have found that sating her hunger with a living sacrifice can sometimes earn her temporary assistance, but this placation is not the basis for a lasting bond.

In order to become the true master of a nightmare, one must earn her respect. This effort usually requires a prospective rider to prove themselves to be the nightmare’s superior in combat and match in utter evil. When paired with a strong, ruthless villain, a nightmare will obey them with complete loyalty, showing intelligence beyond that of a common horse, able to fight alongside her rider as one seamless unit of destruction. The flames of a nightmare will not burn her rider and will, in fact, inure them to the ravages of other flames should they lack a natural resistance. With a click of their spurs, a rider’s nightmare will appear beside them out of nowhere, ready to carry them across the battlefield and across the planes, giving the riders of nightmares unparalleled mobility.

However, the loyalty of a nightmare lasts only as long as the rider remains strong enough to dominate their steed and wicked enough to suit her temperament. Should a nightmare even begin to suspect weakness or scruples from their rider, she will not hesitate to drag them down to either devour them or drag them down to the Lower Planes and abandon them there.

Sex and Sexuality Among Nightmares

Surprisingly, given their wild temperaments, nightmares do not have sex of their own accord all that often. Like many fiends, nightmares cannot breed with other fiends, not even others of their kind. This is therefore why nightmares cannot be bred, and in order for new nightmares to arise, pegasi must be corrupted. Though nightmares can sometimes rape one another as an act of dominance, they usually prefer more direct violence.

As with each other, nightmares generally prefer to simply assault and kill other creatures rather than try to fuck them. However, there are a few instances where nightmares have had sex with female mortal creatures, both in attempts to produce hybrids of nightmares and regular horses and from mortal women who successfully tamed a nightmare and wanted to step beyond the bounds of common decency with their steed. Though attempts by female mortals to impregnate nightmares have failed, nightmares have shown themselves capable of knocking up mortal life as more humanoid fiends do. Humanoid women impregnated by a nightmare tend to birth tieflings with various equine features, such as hooves and equine tails.

Beasts, on the other hand, tend to birth their fiendish equivalent. Compared to their nightmare patters, most nightmare-born beasts aren’t quite as dangerous but grow up with vicious temperaments and a natural resilience to flame. Certain tyrants and orders of corrupted knights have stocked their cavalry with horses descended from nightmares; though the fiendish blood is often highly diluted nowadays, these steeds are known for their formidable aggression, toughness, and difficulty to train.

Men to Nightmares

Nightmares seem to generally despise mortal men with a passion. Most nightmares will seek to kill men in preference to women unless strongly directed against such a course of action by their rider. This utter loathing may well stem from an instinctive understanding of what a man can do to a nightmare.

Despite all the corruption that a nightmare undergoes during her transformation, the fundamental shift from celestial to fiend, it seems that a nightmare’s womb remains in some ways unchanged. While a nightmare’s womb is fiendlike in how it cannot be impregnated by other fiends, it remains as it was in so far as how, when something like a mortal man does successfully knock up a nightmare, she falls pregnant with a pegasus. Having a celestial in her womb is an immensely uncomfortable, painful process for the nightmare, a torturous radiant burning within her that stretches on for almost a year.

Worse for the nightmare is that, under neutral conditions, the birth of a pegasus is invariably fatal, the nightmare being obliterated in a blast of heavenly light that leaves only the foal behind. In order to avoid this fate, a nightmare must retreat to the Lower Planes, where she can birth her pegasus foal in a more natural, less lethal manner thanks to the inherent evil of the plane counteracting the good inherent to her daughter, giving up her access to the Material Plane unless she can get herself summoned once more. Though nightmares generally abandon their foals, a pegasus born of a nightmare rarely has hopeful prospects, for her celestial nature shines like a beacon in the lower planes, meaning that without intervention, the foal will very likely not remain a pegasus for long.

Since a nightmare’s hatred of men stems from their ability to breed pegasi into her, it does not extend to males that lack this capability, such as male beasts (though she would normally still rather kill them than let them breed half-fiend beasts into her thanks to her inherent violence) and male fiends, who, since she is a fiend as well, cannot impregnate her. Though unable to breed with her, male fiends who attain enough power or prestige to earn a nightmare to ride almost always use her as a source of sexual pleasure too, often training her to take their cock even while riding at full speed. A nightmare can even tolerate the pain and inconvenience of pregnancy to become the faithful mount of a mortal man, should he prove sufficiently wicked to suit her tastes and be willing to let her retreat to the Lower Planes to birth his foals before having him summon her back.

Being naturally created celestials, pegasi are all female. As such, there are no male pegasi to be corrupted into nightmares. Despite this, there are tales that crop up now and again of so-called hell stallions, fiendish male horses who storm across the plains at night in search of women to chase down and fill with their burning seed. Many chalk these tales up to exaggerated tales of rapacious wild stallions, rare but of the Material Plane. Those that spread these stories and insist that the hell stallions are of the Lower Planes justify them as the souls of male horses who possessed intellect beyond the scope of their kind and used it for evil, rapacious deeds, thus earning them damnation as an equine fiend.

Chapter 202: Nothic

Found clambering in the darkness, hiding from the light of day in caves, ruins, and catacombs, nothics are unnatural, disturbed creatures whose forms only vaguely hint at their once humanoid origins. Twisted into what they are today by an unholy curse bound in forbidden knowledge, all that remains of an often once brilliant mind is a mindless husk driven by hunger, greed, desperation, and madness. All of this highly unstable thought is situated within a monstrous body of hooked claws, leathery skin, and a single baleful eye, ready to serve both as a warning against prying too deep into the forbidden and to actively protect magical secrets in a mad rush of unhinged violence.

The Curse of Vecna

The origins of nothics can be traced back in time to one figure, a wizard by the name of Vecna. Growing and improving in power over her mortal life, Vecna became a cruel spellcaster, and, as many powerful, heartless spellcasters are liable to do, she eventually embraced lichdom. However, simple immortality via undeath was not enough for Vecna, and she is said to have pioneered channels to discover yet more means of reaching higher and higher states of being, to the point where she is now considered by some to be a dark goddess of magical secrets.

In her time and her studies, Vecna has uncovered knowledge and dozens of secrets to reality’s fundamental state that even the most potent seers and sages would struggle to discover even one of in their lifetime. Many of these secrets could bring great misery and destruction if left in the wrong hands. For most of this information, Vecna coldly believes that anyone with the intellect to discover it for themselves has the right to use it however they please. There are some secrets, however, whose consequences for misuse are so cataclysmically dire that even one as heartless as a soul-sucking lich cannot abide them to become known. When Vecna rose to her debatable goddess status, she destroyed all paths to these worst secrets. Yet mortal curiosity and intellect would not be so easily blunted. With the right level of unhinged genius and scrying magics, the way to these secrets could be opened again.

To prevent such dangerous insights from being rediscovered, Vecna laid a coaction of curses upon several of the key ideas necessary to attain full comprehension. The most common of these curses is the curse of the nothic. When a spellcaster divines that which no mortal may know, their minds and bodies rapidly degrade, their memories becoming scattered and disarrayed. Over time, the mortal’s body begins to twist to resemble their internal mind, eventually, over the course of weeks, days, or, in some cases, hours, becoming a jabbering nothic.

A nothic’s mind contains virtually nothing of who they once were, but they still remain general thematic traits. When pressed, a nothic can recall facts about magic and the wider state of reality that their broken mind has no right recalling. This recollection also tends to make nothics hungry for more. Any apparent source of magical knowledge and artefacts will draw nothics from miles around, with nothics possessing a preternatural ability to track down the remains of magically active areas, be it a wizard’s lab, the crypt of a necromancer, or the site of some great ritual. A nothic will serve anyone who offers to give them even a trickle of magical knowledge and the occasional gift as payment, and when they can’t extract such things by begging, bartering, or stealing, they think nothing of murder.

Eye of the Arcane

When a spellcaster turns into a nothic, they lose, along with their identity and much of their memories, their ability to cast spells. In the place of spells, a nothic generally uses her razor-sharp claws to fend off attackers and to hunt down prey to sustain herself, which can include sapient beings if a nothic isn’t given good reason to withhold her predatory instincts. What is more, the transformation into a nothic generally precludes them from regaining their spellcasting proficiency. While a nothic may perhaps be able to use the magic inherent to an enchanted item or the like, most nothics generally find themselves incapable of relearning wizardry, no matter how much arcane literature they manage to attain.

This apparently lost arcane potential does not simply disappear, however. Instead, it seems to focus into one specific area of their being, that being their large, singular, often hauntingly luminous eye, which, along with being an exceptionally keen organ for sight, is also active with all forms of magic. This magic is so concentrated that the eye is not only useful to the nothic but also desired by a number of alchemists and diviners as a magical component once the nothic is slain.

Perhaps the most evident magic instilled within a nothic’s eye may be its destructive capability. With a slight effort, a nothic can release uncontrolled magic from her eye, which destabilises the structure of any organic matter she stares at, essentially causing her foe’s flesh to rapidly rot. A nothic generally uses this necrotic glare defensively rather than while hunting for, like many predators, nothics prefer their meat fresh.

Despite the destructive power it possesses, a nothic’s glare may not be the most unnerving capability her eye holds. As mentioned, a nothic’s eyes are unbelievably keen. In pitch blackness, a nothic can accurately read the mint date on a coin from over one hundred paces off, assuming she knows her numbers. However, a nothic’s sight goes beyond exceptional and firmly into the realm of the supernatural. No magic can hide anything from a nothic’s sight; illusions can be peered through as clearly as windows, invisible and ethereal creatures remain completely visible, and even shapeshifting fails to hide one’s true self.

While a handful of other monsters share this keen magical sight, a nothic’s eye goes deeper, to the point where she can see right into a target’s mind. Slightly different from ordinary mind reading, a nothic has little control over where she intends to bore into a mind. With a glance, a nothic can magically intuit facts and secrets about those she observes with no outward sign to hint at them. While a nothic cannot choose exactly what she discovers, a nothic who spends long enough watching someone can thus become intimately familiar with them. Nothics often spend time gleaning secrets while stalking their prey silently, gathering a great deal of obscure and esoteric information they should otherwise have no way of knowing.

Thanks to this eclectic collection of otherwise unknowable information, some individuals risk approaching nothics for information. Assuaging the monster’s predatory instincts with a magical gift, or some meat, a visitor may try to probe a nothic’s twisted mind for useful facts among the trivial ramblings she also gathers. Some may even hire a nothic as a mind-reading spy, though while a nothic can keep herself mostly out of sight when she wants to, she is rarely suited to hiding in plain sight, while her erratic mind makes keeping her on task a challenge.

Sex and Sexuality Among Nothics

Whether nothics can breed naturally is a matter debated among scholars aggressively. For how they are initially created, through mortal exposure to rare and cursed lore, there seem to be a surprisingly high number of nothics to be found in certain places, suggesting that they may boost their numbers through reproduction. On the other hand, nothics don’t seem to physically age, and time alone has yet to observably kill a nothic, suggesting that they may be immortal until slain and that the current nothic population may have been built up over centuries of mortal folly.

When nothics gather together socially, they are occasionally seen to participate in sexual behaviour, fucking each other wildly. Some nothics are even known to try and fuck humanoids, often to the point of raping them when they resist. This may not be evidence of reproduction, however. For all the sex nothics seem to have, nothics have never been seen to get pregnant in captivity without male intercedence, and pregnant or definitively juvenile nothics have not been reliably spotted in the wild. This may suggest that nothics are simply a rare creature, gifted at hiding their young, or that female nothics are naturally infertile and their sexual behaviour may be simply instinctive holdovers from the humanoids they once were.

While nothics seem impossible for women to impregnate, there are a few reports of women getting sexually assaulted by female nothics and ending up pregnant. The children of these unions are usually fairly normal on the outside save for having a strange colour in one or both of their eyes. As these children grew up, many began to exhibit supernatural abilities and insights from their eyes; some became reclusive seers, learning to divine meaning from their visions, or harnessing the raw magic in their eyes to achieve lofty goals. Over time, however, most of these nothic-born begin to hear voices in their heads and lose their grip on reality. While some tales simply describe these unfortunates as going mad, others describe a physical transformation as well, ending with the individual succumbing to their hereditary curse and becoming a nothic in full.

Men to Nothics

As with most things, nothics are generally quite erratic in their response to males. How a nothic responds to a man can rely on a host of factors, from the conditions under which they met, the scattered memories regarding men the nothic can dredge up, her past experiences with men (if any), and simply if she’s hungry on encountering him. From all these factors and more, a nothic can range from experiencing unshakeable terror or wrath in the face of a man to eager, manic desire. Unfortunately, due to how unstable most nothics are, a nothic looking to jump right onto a man’s cock and one looking to claw his throat out are generally hard to differentiate until the very last moment, and though most nothics can speak fragments of certain languages, most often Undercommon, getting one to decipherably use her words in the throes of extreme hostility or lust is both incredibly difficult.

Regardless of how willing a nothic is to fuck, a nothic is conclusively able to be impregnated by most mortal men. In general, a nothic’s pregnancy seems to be a surprisingly normal affair for how rarely it’s seen in other situations. A nothic tends to be pregnant for around nine months, though sometimes longer, and gives birth to a live nothic. Whether this is because most nothics were once human and nothics generated from other races may cause different gestation periods or even methods of birth. Regardless of origin, nothics seldom make good parents, shifting between overattentiveness, complete disinterest, and occasional bouts of hostility towards their offspring with little rhyme or reason. Thankfully, infant nothics are fairly independent from the get-go and can look after themselves even if their mother forgets to.

Men, like women, can be curious creatures, sometimes to the point where they can become powerful arcanists and seers probing the deepest, most forbidden mysteries of reality. One would assume that Vecna would be just as unwilling to let men of such calibre learn the truths she considers too dangerous for women, so it seems quite possible for men to become nothics too. However, rumours of male nothics are rare and scattered, to the point where there is little hard evidence that any currently exist. If there are male nothics, it is probably safe to assume that they are just as unhinged and instinct-driven as females. Thanks to the nature of most male instincts, one can likely assume a male nothic would spend a great deal of his time looking for any female lifeform to leap upon and impregnate.

Chapter 203: Ogre

Found in mountains, forests, swamps, and practically anywhere where there is food, an ogre is a large, rotund creature that stands around nine to ten feet tall on average with a barrel chest, sloped forehead, and a rather unpleasant temper. A roiling hill of bone and muscle, ogres are distant relatives to true giants, runty by comparison, plenty strong enough for most they waylay. According to the myths of the giants, while the true giants were born of the goddess Annam All-Pater and her wife Othea, ogres were one of three lineages that resulted from Othea’s affair with a demon goddess called Vaprak. Of the three, ogres appear to be the most successful of Vaprak’s children by sheer population, despite the fact that while her other lineages gained her cunning or her nigh indestructibility, ogres seem only to have inherited Vaprak’s brutish strength. It seems, however, that this is all they need.

Angry and Stupid

Of all the gifts laid upon them by their giant-kin ancestry, their size, their power, and their endurance, intelligence is notably not among these enviable qualities. Most ogres speak only in a rudimentary form of the giant tongue, grunting occasional, monosyllabic demands in it or whatever language is common in their domain only when hitting doesn’t get what they desire. An ogre is seldom literate and usually cannot count to ten, even on their fingers.

In terms of technology, ogres may make use of things they take from others. A human’s sword may make a passable skinning knife, while a flour sack may make a half-decent bag. What they make themselves, however, is less impressive. An ogre's primary weapon is often just a small tree, uprooted through brute strength and swung at prey and enemies alike to brutal effect. Some particularly smart ogres may figure out how to chew the ends of branches into crude points to make javelins and clothe themselves in knotted animal hides, making loincloths, breastbands, and jerkins.

The social structure of ogres, such as it is, is not all that advanced. While some ogres are happy going it alone, others band together in small packs, generally no more than six individuals and usually closer to half that number. Ogres tend not to make close friendships and spend what time they don’t dedicate to survival sleeping, fighting one another, and playing inane games such as knucklebones.

With very little in the way of advanced intellect, one may think that ogres are easy to fool and manipulate. In some ways this is true; ogres tend to believe what they’re told at face value and can be easily misled, but in others, this belief has spelt the end for many overly creative tricksters. Trying to fast talk an ogre is likely not to convince her of any particular point but to confuse and frustrate her. What is more, ogres tend to assume that anyone whose ideas are too advanced for them to understand is insulting or trying to take advantage of them. Among ogres, confusion, frustration, and insults, even the most childish name-calling, are swift paths to anger, and an angry ogre falls back onto her most reliable strategy, violence.

An enraged ogre attacks with virtually no consideration for her present situation, smashing every person, creature, and thing in their path in a furious tirade of pointless destruction. Forgetting any previous alliances and deals, an ogre on the warpath kills and destroys with no reason beyond a desire to vent their frustration. An ogre’s rampage can last for hours, the brute stomping across the terrain, devastating everything unfortunate enough to get in their path long after they forget what so infuriated them in the first place, their rage only ending when they get tired enough to sleep it off.

Gluttonous Bullies

In keeping with their size, ogres have powerful appetites. An ogre will eat practically anything that looks even remotely edible, their hardy constitutions dealing well with food past its prime or even that is mildly toxic. Still, ogres have two great culinary loves, alcohol and meat. With distillation and fermentation well outside of their creative capabilities, ogres tend to get their drinks by holding up roadside taverns or raiding supply caravans, carrying off barrel loads of ale and the like to consume in great quantities, becoming even less rational and more irritable as they get drunk, though thankfully more prone to sleep.

When it comes to meat, ogres will eat virtually any creature they can kill, either raw or cooked over a fire, assuming one among them has the wits to eventually light one. This supreme unfussiness also extends to the flesh of intelligent creatures. Indeed, many ogres seem to eat dwarves, halflings, and elves by preference to other prey. As well as apparently preferring the taste of certain humanoids, hunting intelligent prey also benefits ogres in how they are often more likely to bear more material treasures.

As much as ogres love to fill their bellies, they also have a strong avaricious streak. With no technological know-how of their own beyond simple wood and leatherwork with raw branches and untreated hides, nearly any manufactured goods can be a fantabulous treasure in an ogre’s eyes. When an ogre wants something, she simply sidles out and seizes them from villages and caravans in raids, carrying their loot back in sacks to wherever they currently lair.

Being generally nomadic, ogres make their temporary abodes in caves, ruins, and vacated barns. An adventurer that finds such a lair may be disappointed to find that most of an ogre’s “treasures” will likely be worthless junk, dented pots, broken furnishings, rent armour, and the like. Still, ogres do vaguely understand the appeal of glittering gems and precious metal coins, so such valuables may be found if one is willing to sift through garbage.

Though willing to raid and far from opposed to a fight, ogres are usually quite lazy creatures; thus, it is not rare for an ogre to muscle in on weaker creatures such as goblinoids and orcs, throwing their weight around until they begin to serve them, bringing them food and treasure, and softening up their victims before she wades in. Alternatively, some individuals seek to hire ogres, offering them a solid stream of food, alcohol, and treasure to act as heavy units in battle or as intimidating guards. Such relationships are always fraught with peril; however, an ogre who thinks they can seize what they are being drip-fed by simply turning against their master will do so, and an ogre who feels disrespected will cast aside all long-term benefits of their alliances to sate their immediate rage. The only creatures that can reliably keep control over ogres are true giants.

Though ogres don’t really pay much mind to the Ordning, the religious and social system that governs the lives of every true giant, they do for the most part understand their place within it, below the estimation of any true giant, but slightly above the likes of beasts, humanoids, and other non-giants by virtue of being distant kin. More importantly, most ogres recognise that true giants are both bigger and stronger than them, and that refusing to do as they say is a swift way to get a sound beating, if not killed. As such, ogres practically worship their true giant cousins, almost falling over themselves to do as they command. While most often seen in the company of hill, frost, and fire giants, most true giants have no qualms about using the loyalty of ogres to treat them as dumb muscle, expendable brutes they can throw at a problem that simply calls for strength or violence.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ogres

Having little concept of lasting friendship and allegiance, ogre gangs tend to be rather loose in arrangement. Ogres will generally band together when faced with a sizable threat or when they find themselves with plentiful food, and they will split up to go it alone when resources grow thin or infighting becomes too violent. As with their casual disregard about allegiance, ogres are also somewhat casual about who they choose to fuck. Along with sleeping, eating, and fighting, rutting is also a fairly well-enjoyed activity for ogres who choose to live communally. Sex, however, is not the wild free-for-all that one may expect, however.

Ogres tend to pick their sexual partners quite flippantly; as long as an ogre is not visibly maimed or otherwise in clear ill health, she can likely get another of her kind to fuck without much trouble. However, once an ogre starts fucking another, she usually feels somewhat driven to ensure her mate’s fidelity to her, at least so long as the pair remain of the same band. Usually this is done simply by vigilance and threatening violence against unfaithful partners and those that would fuck them. As such, normally only exceptionally powerful, or in rarer cases, cunning, ogres can get away with having multiple mates at a time and forming a harem. This protectiveness comes from how costly it could be for an ogre if her partner got pregnant and they were secretly not the patter.

For as much as ogres fuck their mates, often filling much of their spare moments with heavy, brutish sex, ogre fertility among themselves is remarkably low, explaining why so many couplings do not result in most ogres experiencing near-constant pregnancy throughout their lives. If an ogre does get pregnant, however, the bond between her and her mate solidifies beyond what is normal for ogres. Even if their band falls apart, a mated pair will stay together for as long as one of them is pregnant or has a child dependent upon them. This is not so much an act of love as the non-pregnant mate having a vested interest in seeing that their progeny survives. During pregnancy, a pregnant ogre’s mate will gather food for her, letting her rest in their lair. Once the baby is born, after an eight-month pregnancy, the parents take turns staying back in the lair to stand guard and going out hunting for food, keeping the young fed and protected until they are around six, at which point the child will be expected to leave or at least hunt for herself.

Quite how casual ogres can be in selecting mates can be surprising, especially for those versed in the sexual habits of other giants. Among the true giants and a number of giant kin, their deity-derived bloodline is too precious to ever consider sullying it by breeding individuals not of their race, let alone non-giants. Ogres, having far more lust than qualms around purity of bloodlines, are less concerned and may fuck certain humanoids for pleasure every now and then, given the right conditions. Despite the horror stories that arise, it is rare for ogres to actively rape women they best in battle or kidnap women for sexual purposes. Normally, they just eat them. Instead, sex between ogres and humanoids tends to occur when ogres find themselves allied with them, making some of the more common non-ogre mates larger goblinoids, humans, and orcs. These sexual couplings are not always solely for pleasure, however.

Despite being a completely different breed of creature, female ogres can both impregnate and get pregnant by many humanoids, including those mentioned above, creating offspring that inherit much of the giant-kin’s size and strength while gaining more humanoid proportions and a measure of additional intelligence. Though some specific pairings have their own names, such as the offspring of an ogre and an orc being known as an ogrillon, the general term for an ogre and humanoid hybrid is simply a half-ogre.

For the most part, ogres don’t care all that much about half-ogres and the individuals they make them with; baby half-ogres are smaller than baby ogres and are thus considered a runt unworthy of its parent’s time and attention while its humanoid parent is only entertainment in the ogre’s eyes. It takes a supremely strong humanoid, one who could face an ogre in single combat, such as an orc war chief or an elite human warrior, who can persuade an ogre to give them the same loyalty as a mate that another ogre would be afforded. Regardless of who they’re raised by, half ogres tend to do quite well. Among the sort of brutish humanoids they tend to be born amongst, their superior strength earns them praise and recognition, while among ogres, their slightly keener mind helps them better apply the strength of their full-blooded brethren in raids, making them tactical geniuses by ogre standards.

Men to Ogres

In general, an ogre has no particular disdain for males as a whole, usually seeing male creatures based on their kind, not their sex. As such, ogres tend to consider most humanoid men as small annoyances, under their estimation, except perhaps as food or a potential mark for robbery, unless they are under a specific situation where the man would currently be considered an ally, such as if they were accepting bribes to be part of an orc tribe led by a male, for example. An ogre can generally comprehend the idea that they could be fucked or impregnated by a man, but this is technically true of most humanoids, and without definitive proof otherwise, an ogre is unlikely to believe that a man is any more worth breeding with than a woman. This opinion can be changed if a man proves his strength; if a man can put an ogre at his mercy, she will normally be glad to get bred by such a powerful mate.

Once an ogre feels a cock for the first time, her interest in men takes a dramatic upswing. Obsessed with their own pleasure, ogres can rapidly become addicted to getting fucked by cocks. This obsession can lead to an ogre following a man, insistently declaring him her mate. This unfortunately only rarely confers control over the ogre to the man. More often the ogre considers the man a prize rather than a mate, and she will violently try to ward off any creature that tries to get close to the man. Once a man gets away from her, an ogre will go to great lengths to fill the ache in her cunt that he leaves, from using branches and rocks to attempting to capture male beasts and livestock to become her pet.

Larger male creatures typically don’t have to prove themselves quite as thoroughly as humanoid males initially do. Ogres know that large monsters such as manticores and gorgons are powerful, and if a strong male is capable of getting them pregnant, then ogres may even fight each other for the right to be bred by them, often creating strange ogre offshoots with abilities suggestive of their fathers in the process. Of all these big male creatures, perhaps the ones that female ogres feel the least need to judge before accepting are the rare male giants. The sycophancy ogres experience towards true giants, combined with a drive to be bred by the strongest mates available, means that a male giant often needs not even utter a word before having ogres gladly throwing themselves down to be fucked by him. For these male giants, ogres are typically just seen as entertainment, cheap whores to fuck and knock up between his true calling, breeding other true giants. Ogres are glad to debase themselves in this role, if only to feel his titanic cock and birth the offspring he knocks them up with.

Of course, giants seem to only very rarely birth males among their number, so such chances to be a true giant’s whore are rare indeed. Being giant-blooded themselves, ogres also birth males only very rarely, with it being unlikely that any more than two male ogres may be on the Material Plane at any time. Male ogres tend not only to be virile but also particularly big and strong in comparison to other ogres, thought to be a blessing from Vaprak herself to ensure her rare sons can spread their seed far and wide. Thanks to their great strength, male ogres tend to hold together so-called ogre kingdoms, bands of many, many female ogres, held in a chaotic alliance bound by a mutual obsession for his cock. When these ogre kingdoms arise, they often form large, disorganised mobs that march on major settlements, doing far more damage than the ogres could do in smaller bands, smashing armies, seizing great quantities of food and treasure, and abducting women for the ogre king to rape half-ogre offspring into as he sees fit.

Chapter 204: Oni

When one considers the spawn of Vaprak, one often pictures the fearless viciousness of a troll or an ogre’s mindless fury. As such, one may be fooled into thinking that Vaprak’s evil is merely a form of animalistic brutality, that her villainy is merely a product of a mind too feeble to act beyond personal survival and gratification. However, for all her belligerence and wrath, the breeder of Annam’s wife, Othea, is not wicked out of ignorance of good. Vaprak is far more cunning and manipulative than her more common children give her credit for, a demon who understands the precepts of good perfectly well and uses that understanding to subvert them with calculating cruelty. This brilliance in evil, along with Vaprak’s might, was inherited by some of her least common mortal descendants, the oni, a race of physically and magically gifted giant kin who inflict their cruel games upon any who cross their path.

Ogre Mages

Physically, an oni’s true form resembles an ogre but with vibrantly coloured skin, often red, blue, black, or yellow; pale eyes; and more flagrantly demon-like features than their fellow giant kin, such as pick-like teeth, small horns, and clawed fingers. With greater intelligence than their ogres and trolls, oni tend to live in broadly connected networks, with oni living either alone or in small family groups but also knowing where their neighbour's lair is, allowing them to compete for territory, bargain and even trade items they can learn to make amongst themselves, such as works of weaving and metalwork. As such, oni are typically well-dressed as well as well-armed and armoured, in particular favouring giant kin-sized glaives and other large weapons able to direct their formidable strength through to devastating results.

While gifted with the physical strength and resilience of an ogre, oni are more well known for their magical capabilities, instilled with various inherent magics in their blood. While oni can magically soar across a battlefield, the wrath of a winter storm in their hands, most of the magic oni are capable of naturally are mostly of a subtle nature that their brutish form belies. An oni can lace their words with subtle suggestions, putting targets to sleep or under their manipulative power. With a whispered word, an oni can transform into a pale mist, able to slip through the tiniest cracks between her and her victim in silence. An oni’s most reliable magic, however, is her mastery of disguise.

With a simple act of will, an oni can transform herself to resemble a regular humanoid person. Whether this be an act of impersonating a real person, assuming a false identity, or simply going beneath notice, an oni bears no visible mark of her true self, except, some believe, that a disguised oni’s skin will turn its natural colour in contact with an amethyst. In any case, however, an oni who doesn’t wish to be seen at all can simply turn invisible. Even as an oni changes in shape, however, she remains her monstrous self within, not only in mind and magical powers but also in physical capability. As such, what one may see as only a passing merchant, feeble old woman, or lost child may suddenly perform feats of ogrish strength without issue.

Understanding the benefits of magic from their own natural capabilities, oni often seek to improve those capabilities by acquiring more magic in the form of magical items. Oni frequently use their natural cunning to burgle wizard towers and grand temples, making off with enchanted weaponry and blessed relics, among other loot. Anything an oni cannot make immediate use of is kept in her lair, which can be anything from a decorated cave to a rustic hut, ransacked home, or even a grand castle, typically built in high mountains, the middle of a swamp, on storm-wracked islands, or somewhere else difficult to access without supernatural flight, keeping their loot to buy personal luxuries, barter with others of their kind, and merely to gloat over.

Sadistic Giant Kin

For all their giant-blooded might and all their magical gifts, it is rare for an oni to actively seek battle with capable warriors or enemy magicians. When an oni does attack such individuals, it is almost always either out of fury for some perceived slight against them or a greedy desire for their possessions. Though an oni usually could hold her own in a direct confrontation, most prefer more duplicitous means of combat, following a foe invisibly or in disguise by day, only to strike while the enemy sleeps like a living nightmare, or else pose as someone in need only to turn when the would-be hero’s guard is down.

More often, however, oni prefer to aim their sizable power directly at the most helpless individuals, such as humble farmers, the sick, and especially children. Indeed, while oni will eat any humanoid they can get their hands on, along with more wholesome foodstuffs, most consider humanoid children to be a delicacy of sorts. Despite how an oni could often just storm into an abode, grab a handful of children and storm out, fearing nothing of the average person’s ability to stop them, most oni prefer to exercise all the tricks they have at their disposal when preying on victims that already didn’t stand a chance. This is less an act of caution and more one of arrogance and cruel amusement. While an oni could just smash and grab like a common ogre, being able to find a vulnerable entryway in the guise of a pedlar by day, break in by night and make off with a village’s children without causing any alarm until morning’s first light is a feat that an oni may laugh and boast of for years to come.

Suiting her pride, an oni often likes to make a game out of slaying her victims, letting them go so that she may chase them down through a perilous forest, intentionally placing captives in places and daring others to try and rescue them, and offering mercy should a victim or their loved ones win a game or wager against the oni. Likewise, an oni can seldom turn down a challenge, especially when it comes in the form of a mere commoner implying that they are better than the oni at skill or talent she values. Once the idea gets into an oni’s head that someone does not see her as their superior in every way, she becomes driven to prove them wrong, ready to offer freedom, treasure, service, or any number of other prizes should the challenger be able to back up their claim, with the implied understanding that failure or refusal to do so will forfeit their life as the oni’s supper. While one is unlikely to get an oni to honour the terms of a challenge should she lose, unless a significantly powerful authority is overseeing the contest, there is some benefit to beating an oni at their own game.

An oni bested, humiliated, or dishonoured is a far cry from the collected, calculating villains they present themselves as. Half blinded by rage, an angered oni discards their higher intellect and careful plans in favour of brute aggression, becoming much more akin to their dim-witted ogre and troll cousins. Though an enraged oni’s brute strength is no joke, it is often ill-directed, causing the oni to sometimes damage her own allies and property, fall for simple ruses, give openings for victims to escape, or leave herself tactically devoid in the face of a counterattack.

As well as considering it admirable among themselves, oni value cruelty in those they associate with. Many oni bully or recruit creatures known for their ruthlessness, such as goblinoids, kenku, and their fellow giant kin, as servants, spies, and guards. On the other hand, oni are willing to fall in line under a greater evil. Oni families tend to pledge allegiance to an oni queen, an oni whose feats of power and duplicity, along with her esteemed bloodline, had earned her royal status and the ability to weigh in on disputes on hunting rights and territorial claims, often siding with whichever oni family offers her more treasure and favours in tribute. Some oni strike out from these shadow monarchies, instead finding employment as thugs and assassins for other villains, particularly those that can give them rewards of a more magical nature, such as evil wizards, priestesses of dark goddesses, and more innately magical monsters such as hags, evil cloud giants, and certain chromatic dragons. While an oni can act in the interests of a good individual if significantly well paid or threatened, such associations often fall apart quickly when she is forbidden from exercising her abusive instincts.

Sex and Sexuality Among Oni

While oni often hunt and pillage alone unless they expect significant resistance, most are societally well connected amongst their kind. Typically, an oni’s abode will be home to a single dominant oni, her mate (or small harem of mates), their children, and possibly one or two siblings without mates of their own, not to mention a handful of non-oni servants and monstrous pets. If an oni wishes to find a partner and start a family of their own, they must usually either challenge their lair’s dominant oni to a duel (generally to the death) or flee in search of their own domain, having their independence recognised by other families before their family head can bring retribution down on them for their desertion.

Once an oni has dominion over their own lives, either by escaping or seizing it from their predecessor, they can begin to seek out a mate without fear of punishment. Only rarely do two independent oni seek to pair up, for such an arrangement usually results in one becoming subservient to the other sooner or later. Instead, an oni in search of a wife looks to neighbouring families, offering alliances, gifts, and favours to their family head for the right to marry one of their daughters. Though such a union is marked with much grandeur and ceremony, it is, underneath it all, a business transaction rather than a show of love. If a deal cannot be reached, an oni may risk abducting herself a bride.

A dominant oni expects her wife to obey her commands, keep her entertained, birth strong and loyal daughters and do the lion's share of the childrearing, with refusal or inefficiency in doing so grounds for assault, both sexual and violent. It is this expectation of violently enforced rule that makes oni families generally so small. While a head oni tends to be unusually powerful, even by oni standards, equipped with the most potent magic and strongest weapons of her family, too many wives and too many living children and siblings increase the likelihood that the leader will miss plots against her and find herself unable to put down rebellions.

At the same time, however, keeping a mate pregnant and caring for children reduces the energy they have to rebel. Oni mothers tend to have pregnancies of a similar length to humans, and once born, oni mature at a similar rate to humans too. With the ruling oni generally keeping their wives pregnant every other year or so, they control the number of rivals they have in the form of offspring by setting up rivalries between siblings and enforcing challenging, life-threatening responsibilities on them, ensuring not only that the weaker ones die at each other’s hands but also that the survivors struggle to form alliances against their oppressor.

While the dominant oni can and usually will fuck her wives as much as she desires, oni living under her rule must take great care if they want to have sex. Getting caught fucking another oni is generally grounds for torture, loss of privileges, maiming, or even execution. As such, an oni must take great care to not get caught, with fear of being caught often being the impetus for an oni to try and kill their ruler or escape her entirely.

Some oni, frustrated at their inability to mate among their own kind, will instead fuck their humanoid prey. Such a diversion may be done through guile, the oni transforming into a humanoid before looking for a partner to fuck; other times, she simply uses might or enchantment magic to rape her victim, revelling in the horror they inflict. Since humanoids so rarely intercede in oni politics, an oni rarely cares all too much about how their humanoid partners are left. Many head oni don’t even care if their underlings fuck humanoids, considering the right to let out their sexual frustration on such pathetic creatures an acceptable reward for loyalty. Some lesser-ranked oni even keep particularly attractive human women as their wives, willingly or, more often, as prisoners.

While it seems harder than it is when ogres fuck humanoids, oni do occasionally impregnate humanoids with half-oni offspring. Physically, half oni are similar to half ogres, if of more average intelligence and marked by unusual skin tones, patterns, and horns. Most people fear and revile half-oni, treating them as heralds of their inhuman parent. Oni, meanwhile, see their half-breed offspring as pathetic creatures, only slightly more worthy of life than humanoids and only as servants to the oni family that spawned them.

Men to Oni

Among oni, pregnancy is practically one’s sociopolitical death. To get pregnant and give birth to another’s children is to be marked for the rest of one’s life as that individual’s property. Vanishingly few oni brides have successfully killed their mates and gone on to seize control of their family. Even when the first step is achieved, their status as a mother normally denies them the respect of other families, forcing them to transfer power to their eldest surviving child or face repeated attempts to subsume their “leaderless” clan. Thanks to this, males, particularly humanoid men, beings all too easily capable of knocking them up with children that aren’t even true oni, are an existentially horrifying foe to oni sensibilities. Many oni, if forced to face a man in battle, would sooner die than surrender.

Of course, the fear a man can inspire in an oni also makes slaying one a tempting way of gaining much respect and esteem from one’s peers. As always, however, oni tend to go for the least fair way to defeat a man that they can manage. As such, oni keep their ears open for news of males being born near them. If they can find a young, defenceless boy, they will normally seek to get close to him in disguise, posing as a nursemaid or priestess looking to help the new mother, in order to abduct him. Oni tend to abduct men and boys rather than killing them on sight so that they can find a reliable witness to slay them in front of so other oni cannot doubt their “bravery.” Though many such happenings end tragically, there are a handful of stories about young boys who, despite their tender age, managed to escape the oni’s wrath or even turn the tables on the brute.

If an oni does get knocked up by a man, she can sometimes lose a lot of her aggression as misery consumes her, the permanency of her defilement shattering her resolve. If the oni was previously the head of her family, this collapse can cause the oni politics in an area to fall into disarray. Some men, who are comfortable with both rape and with allies who use brutal tactics, have intentionally used their sexual prowess to manipulate oni marital customs into forcing an oni into serving them. However, even a mentally broken oni will not tolerate forbiddance to abuse those weaker than her for long and will eventually lash out. Half-oni, on the other hand, are more morally adaptable than full-blooded oni and can be raised into heroic individuals if given the right conditions.

As giant kin, oni hardly ever give birth to males. Adding to this, dominant oni tend to despise sons, knowing that they can very quickly become a challenge to their rule. Most male oni are therefore either killed or raised in secret by their mothers. As male oni approach maturity, they tend to sexually dominate everything around them, their mother, their sisters, and any other creatures under the control of the oni family. With this extreme control over the family, the dominant oni quickly finds herself forced to accept the position as her son’s bride or die. Typically, these male oni then go on to spread their influence to neighbouring families and humanoid settlements, overwhelming them with an army of oni and half-oni daughters until the oni male becomes master of all he surveys, an oni king. Though most dynasties have fallen into shadow, their sovereignty only recognised by fellow oni, most oni queens owe their high familial status to a male that avoided early death and rose to undeniable power.

Chapter 205: Oozes

Found in caves, dungeons, swamps, and other dark, damp corners of the world, oozes are, in essence, animate masses of viscous, homogeneous fluid that crawl along in search of moisture and sustenance. Despite being of such a simple form of life, oozes come in a rainbow of colours, behaviours, and capabilities. Four of these most common forms will be discussed in the following chapters, but this chapter will discuss oozes in general.

Acidic Devourers

Lacking eyes, mouths or anything in the way of specific organs, oozes are thought by some to be the simplest living things that can exist. Still, like all living things, oozes need food and water. In order to eat, oozes simply engulf organic matter into themselves, where acidic digestive enzymes are dumped upon it, breaking it down into usable nutrients. The power of these enzymes varies between types of ooze, with some only digesting readily consumable material like flesh and soft vegetable matter, while others can go so far as to corrode metal.

Of course, powerful digestive capabilities do little for a living thing if they cannot locate food in the first place. Oozes are not fussy eaters, willing to consume anything they can break down that comes in contact with them, from corpses and fungi to garbage and waste left by other creatures. Though before they can eat this banquet of decay, they must first find it, a tall order for an eyeless, mindless blob. While lacking any specific sensory paraphernalia, an ooze’s membrane seems able to pick up certain details of its surroundings, such as temperature, odour, and, if some are to be believed, voices.

Most oozes are drawn towards moderate warmth, moisture, and scents such as those of blood and decay, since these are all signs suggestive of food. On the other hand, oozes seem reticent to approach extreme heat, such as flame, or sunlight, which can dry them out with time, to the point where a near-mindless blob will show some basic intellect by approaching potential food sources by routes that avoid hot, bright, or dry areas.

It is true to say that, if it weren’t for one aspect of their nature, oozes would be little more than natural curiosities or even boons to the environment, cleaning up filth and remains and also grazing certain moulds. Unfortunately, as many an adventurer can attest to, oozes cannot seem to distinguish between the living and the dead. If a living person is the largest apparent source of organic matter around, an ooze will seek to approach, engulf, and dissolve them in acid. Since dungeons, crypts, and sewers are often dark and rife with decay, they often become hotspots for ooze activity, putting them directly in the paths of adventurers looking to explore them.

In combat, an ooze doesn’t so much try to fight its enemy as consume them, lacking the presence of mind to conceive of tactics or even identify what they’re attacking. This does not necessarily make an ooze an easy foe, however. With no vital organs or nerves, there is no one place to aim at when trying to take down an ooze; instead, a combatant must gradually damage its membrane until the sheer weight of injuries causes the ooze to lose bodily cohesion and die. What is more, an ooze’s whole body is built to digest prey, and without dedicated limbs to strike with, an ooze can just as easily assault a target from any direction. An ooze also benefits from being able to show up practically anywhere; with a semiliquid, acidic body, few locations are entirely ooze-proof.

Dregs of Juiblex

Most agree that while hazardous or even deadly in the wrong conditions, the average ooze is not, of itself, evil. Just as predatory beasts like wolves and lionesses are not evil when their hunger or territorial instincts cause them to turn on travellers, since they lack the mental capability to understand right and wrong, so are oozes even less equipped to comprehend, let alone subscribe to any precept of morality. Still, this doesn’t make the nature of oozes entirely pure.

Within every ooze that slithers and feeds, there is a tiny but present strand of spiritual connection that reaches from whatever dark corner they inhabit down into the ultimate darkness of the Abyss. Specifically down to a foetid layer of rot and despoilation known as Shedaklah, home of the Faceless Lady, the demon lord Juiblex. Physically, the Mother of all Oozes is usually described as an ooze of titanic proportions, virulent green in hue and roiling with raging red eyeballs. At rest, Juiblex often fills a foul pit at the bottom of her realm or sits in a vaguely pyramidal, breast-bearing mound, rearing up into a great column to strike. While some say Juiblex merely adopted the oozes, forgotten and reviled by all else, more stories claim that she birthed them, spraying out the first generation of ooze in a slimy tide more akin to excretion than birth.

As far as demon lords go, Juiblex is not the most active. Mostly sitting in her realm, fermenting in a mire of her own filth, Juiblex neither makes war on many demon lords nor has war declared upon her. She does not even put up much of an offensive against Zuggtmoy, the Demon Queen of Fungi who shares the Faceless Lady’s realm and claims ownership of its surface. Where other demon lords make offers, true or not, to encourage mortals to form cults to them, Juiblex offers very little. As a result, only the most utterly deranged people offer The Glistener their worship, individuals so utterly despondent with the state of existence that they want nothing but for it to be entirely consumed and erased, taking them along with it. On the other hand, Juiblex may have the most prolific cult of any demon.

It is said that through their natural, mindless consumption, all oozes offer their devotion to their unholy mother. If this is true, then one could say that Juiblex has worshippers in most corners of most planes of existence, a virtually inescapable presence. In most cases, of course, oozes are not mentally or physically equipped to do the Faceless Lady’s will beyond what comes naturally: grow, spread, and feed. There are some instances where oozes can be a little more sinister, however.

Places and individuals strong in Juiblex’s power tend to draw oozes towards them, and while in the vicinity of such locales, oozes tend to act slightly more intelligently than is normal. With the application of certain foul rituals, an ooze can become a vessel for Juiblex’s will directly, allowing the Mother of All Oozes to speak and act through her child directly. From these phenomena, some speculate that Juiblex could manipulate and command any ooze she so desired and that if she ever attained the power to exert her will through all her children at once, reality may become mired in an inescapable tide of consumptive doom.

Sex and Sexuality Among Oozes

Simple as they are, oozes generally do not reproduce via mating as many more complex beings do. Instead, an ooze can reproduce simply whenever it has consumed enough to create the mass for another one of itself. Though it varies between type, oozes are generally stable up to about two to four times an adult human’s mass. However, approaching this size doesn’t stop an ooze from feeding. As an ooze eats, it continues to grow, becoming increasingly unstable and ravenous as it stretches past its kind’s maximum stable size.

Eventually, when a critical mass is reached, the ooze divides, splitting into two smaller oozes that generally go their separate ways, ignoring one another. Since oozes are internally without specific organ sets that need making or the like, many oozes can reproduce when divided by outside forces too, such as an adventurer’s blade cutting them in twain.

Though they do not mate as such, Nymphona’s power over existence demands that all animate beings, even barely living masses of slime, be either male or female. As such, oozes are equipped with the basics of female anatomy, a pair of breasts and a vagina. Generally becoming more defined as she moves, an ooze's breasts generally form on the leading side of an ooze. While oozes don’t have directional senses and thus do not necessarily turn their bodies when they change direction, an ooze’s tits generally migrate across its semiliquid body to point the way it’s going. This front-facing nature of their breasts also means that an ooze generally uses its breasts to engulf edible matter and living prey. On the other hand, an ooze’s vagina and the area immediately around it are the only parts of an ooze devoid of digestive enzymes; it is thus generally kept away from whatever they are trying to feed on, normally on the ooze’s rear or underside. So far, no female creature has successfully impregnated nor gotten pregnant by an ooze.

Men to Oozes

With their distinct lack of sensory awareness, it is unlikely that an ooze can even tell what a man is, let alone form opinions on them. When faced with a man, an ooze tends to respond just as she would to any living being, slithering in to try and engulf and digest him. Lacking awareness nor any real emotional capacity, a man also cannot use his status as a man against an ooze; an ooze cannot be seduced, intimidated, or persuaded into complying with a man’s demands. What is more, most oozes are virtually impossible to hold still either, thanks to their acidic, unsolid nature. As such, oozes are incredibly difficult to safely fuck. While an ooze’s pussy will not digest a cock inserted into it, an ooze may instinctively try to start using the rest of her body to eat a man fucking her unless held back from doing so, often by magic. It is also important to note that while an ooze’s pussy can be safely touched, the rest of her is hazardous without some powerful protection against acid, including her tits.

When a man does fuck an ooze, its fertility is generally pretty low, but a man cumming inside of it can sometimes cause it to divide anywhere from minutes to a few days later. Some question whether this is truly impregnation, however, or if, instead, sperm shot inside of an ooze’s womb and allowed to linger, defusing out to the rest of her body where it can be digested, may give an ooze the nutrition it needs to divide, as it assumedly would if granted a similar amount of edible matter of any sort. Men generally argue against this idea, pointing out that oozes below their kind’s maximum stable size can sometimes be made to divide by a man fucking them.

As far as can be ascertained, all oozes are female. Despite the ooze-like, tentacular menaces depicted in many eroticised accounts of the perils a female adventurer may face, no such creature has been conclusively identified. The leading theory as to why oozes are all female is because all oozes are, in essence, inferior clones of the female Juiblex, and since oozes self-replicate rather than truly breed, they can only be born with their original template’s sex. Another idea simply postulates that oozes are too simple and fragmentary to have souls of any kind, let alone souls marked by Nymphona herself for masculinity.

Chapter 206: Black Pudding

A matte black blob, as if shadows themselves were rendered down into a stew of syrupy darkness, black puddings are widely considered some of the most horrifically dangerous oozes an adventurer is likely to encounter, both thanks to their corrosive power and their strength. Many creatures of the Underdark, who could otherwise live very happily in pitch blackness, keep their communities at least dimly lit with magic or bioluminescent fungi specifically to discourage black puddings from settling in. Some even say that certain fungi became luminous specifically to ward black puddings away. In some ways, one could say that the black pudding has thus shaped every black corner of the world.

Inky Blots

Though fairly swift as oozes go, black puddings are not equipped for great moveability in the grand scheme of things. They also don’t have the sensory and intellectual wherewithal to make use of cover to approach unsuspecting prey. As such, black puddings tend not to be pursuit predators. Instead, black puddings are patient masters of ambush. Thanks to their utterly black colour, black puddings can almost vanish when sitting still in darkness, even to the point where creatures who can generally see in the dark can sometimes struggle to make it out. This makes darkness key to a black pudding’s hunting strategy.

All oozes, to some extent, shun the light, sunlight especially, for their moist bodies suffer if allowed to evaporate. Black puddings, however, dislike light to a more powerful degree, particularly constant, stationary light. While a suddenly appearing or moving light source may signal potential prey, areas that are simply well or even just dimly lit work against a black pudding’s chances of catching living creatures out.

Generally lacking the intelligence to “plan” as such, black puddings instead have a single, adaptable method that they instinctively pursue to get food. First, the black pudding finds an area containing both darkness and inert edible matter, including corpses, waste, and cached food, since these things not only make an easy meal but also suggest that living creatures regularly attend the area.

Once such a place is found, and all the easily attained food is consumed, the black pudding feels around for a place to hide, typically a hole, crevice, or pit it can squeeze its amorphas mass into and avoid attention. Tucking itself away into the stone also makes counterattacking against her a challenge, with her able to reach pseudopods through while the rock acts as armour.  If such a hiding spot is unavailable, the black pudding may simply flatten herself against a floor or wall, which can sometimes be similarly effective. The black pudding then simply waits for living things to get within striking range, typically around 20 feet of her hiding spot, and attacks. Only once a significant amount of time passes with no prey does the black pudding move on, ready to repeat the process elsewhere.

All Corroding

While a black pudding relies on tactics to get within striking distance of prey, its attack strategy, as far as it can be called that, is brutally simple, a conflagration of deadly personal traits that allow it to consume prey in an unsophisticated manoeuvre that comes as naturally to the ooze as slithering along or squeezing through a crack.

Though for the most part a liquid, the slime that makes up a black pudding’s body is host to several remarkable properties, not least of which is its ability to bind itself into an almost muscular pattern at will. Since a black pudding has the ability to shift and relocate its mass at will, it can therefore split its attentions multiple ways or dedicate the entirety of its being to a single pushing or pulling force. A single lunging strike from a black pudding can knock an ogre off her feet or indeed pull her in, dealing significant damage, digestive enzymes notwithstanding.

As well as imitating muscle on the inside, a black pudding’s membrane can also change adhesiveness at will. Generally, this is used to let the black pudding crawl across walls and ceilings just as easily as they navigate on ground level. When combined with their strength, however, this makes black puddings capable of grabbing hold and simply not letting go.

A black pudding’s formidable grip is worsened by her acidic nature. Simply by holding onto a victim, a black pudding may start eating them alive. As such, a black pudding’s main attack strategy is to hold on to prey, try to engulf them, and let their digestive enzymes do the rest, potentially beating and suffocating them with acidic pseudopods to hurry the process should they fight back. Adding to this brutal efficiency is the extreme power of black pudding enzymes. While many oozes merely have enzymes to eat, thus causing them to break down only easily digestible matter like flesh, black pudding enzymes are a weapon, able to just as readily digest wood, bone, or even metal. This allows a black pudding to effectively scrub her ambush site of all the deathly evidence that may ward off new prey. In addition, even if an adventurer survives an encounter with a black pudding, its ability to corrode weapons and armour tends to make them worse equipped for later perils. Some subterranean warriors, namely dwarves, have even learnt how to alchemically treat stone to make it into functional weapons and armour, since rock is one of the few mundane materials black puddings cannot seem to eat through.

Sex and Sexuality Among Black Puddings

As what is essentially the basic traits shared by most oozes dialled up to a far more lethal degree, black puddings generally reproduce in the way that oozes are known for; that is to say, once a black pudding has put on a certain amount of weight beyond its stable size, it will simply split in two. Though this divisor process usually takes place naturally when a black pudding attains roughly several hundred pounds of mass, a black pudding can also divide while smaller than this on reflex, typically in response to attempts to slice it with a blade or pierce it with lightning, often leading to a warrior or wizard who expected to smite one ooze instead facing down two.

Newly divided black puddings immediately become independent of one another, one or both often leaving the area of their division so as not to compete for food. Generally, black puddings are solitary oozes unless drawn together by a glut of food or Juiblex’s will. Since division largely depends on mass, and mass entirely depends on how much a black pudding eats, black puddings can breed and grow extremely rapidly when well fed. A single black pudding that finds its way into a food store, waste pit, mass grave, or the like can feed, grow, and divide into a ravenous plague within a matter of days.

Able to breed entirely without sex and lacking the mental capacity for lust, black puddings are mostly non-sexual creatures. Still, this hasn’t prevented tales and rumours of a sexual nature from occurring. Some say that in temples of Juiblex and other places strong in her power, black puddings sometimes haul themselves into feminine, vaguely humanoid shapes. Some even claim that they can gain intelligence and telepathic speech, essentially becoming priestesses of the faith while on their demon lord’s unholy grounds. In most stories, however, this form is merely a ploy to draw victims in close to be devoured.

Men to Black Puddings

Generally, black puddings lack the intellect to perceive a man as anything more than just another living thing to ambush and kill. As such, a man should expect neither mercy nor bias against them from a black pudding.

For a man daring or perhaps foolish enough to try fucking a black pudding, they should understand that this is a highly dangerous undertaking. With virtually no mental process, a black pudding cannot be persuaded, intimidated, or bargained into complying with a man, not even in the way that wild animals can sometimes be befriended or bullied into sexual submission. If a living creature, no matter its apparent strength, gender, or charm, lingers near a black pudding, it will try to devour them. The only way to fuck a black pudding safely is to either gain immunity to metal-eating acid or magically render the ooze immobile for the duration of the sexual experience.

Chapter 207: Gelatinous Cube

For most oozes, one of their defining features is their amorphousness. With the exception of their breasts and pussy, most oozes have no defined shape. One exception, however, is the gelatinous cube. As its name suggests, the gelatinous cube is a breed of ooze whose unsolid mass naturally rests in an almost perfectly cubic shape, not including the breasts on one vertical face and the vagina on the opposite one. Though many people and even adventurers have to admit that a gelatinous cube is fairly absurd looking as far as monsters go, it is a serious ambush threat whose ability to go unseen is the cause of many an adventurer’s horrific demise, making her the reason that wise adventurers know to be cautious of a clean dungeon.

Transparent Stalkers

A gelatinous cube, as mentioned, is more or less entirely cube-shaped, roughly ten feet to a side when fully grown, besides her sexual assets. In addition, a gelatinous cube is not entirely homogeneous all the way through. A gelatinous cube’s outer few inches are a thicker, jelly-like substance, non-acidic enough to be gently touched and grabbed without injury. If one presses a little too hard, however, their hand would be engulfed and find itself in the more acidic ooze under the surface, far less viscous and only being able to hold shape outside the firmer stuff for a few moments as wispy little pseudopod tendrils. This excess structural complexity, in fact, reduces a gelatinous cube’s reliance compared to other oozes, however.

When a gelatinous cube is cut with a sword, for instance, it does not split into two new oozes or simply reconstitute itself as many oozes can. Such an attack leaves a wound on the cube, leaking its internal fluids like watery blood. Admittedly, such injuries can totally heal in a matter of hours, far faster than actual flesh, but a critical mass of wounds will eventually have a gelatinous cube fall apart and die.

The gelatinous cube has some benefits to its relative solidity, however. While some edge cases and specific diets may sometimes tint one a certain colour, gelatinous cubes are naturally completely transparent. Thanks to the precise nature of its structure, a gelatinous cube’s transparency is almost impossible to differentiate from that of empty air at a casual glance. Having its most acidic parts kept inside also makes the gelatinous cube functionally odourless, unlike the typically acrid smell that follows most oozes. The visual trick falls apart somewhat when a gelatinous cube moves, so a gelatinous cube usually only shifts position every hour or so, unless it senses a tantalising, unliving meal. Gelatinous cubes also instinctively freeze when they detect signs of life, only pursuing prey that turns tail after getting in close.

Thanks to this, somebody who is not on high alert could well walk straight into a gelatinous cube by accident. Such an incautious individual can get engulfed by the ooze, its tough outer wall softening to let them in before immediately firming up again to contain them. Held in a cube of viscous fluid with gummy, almost solid walls holding them in, escape is a great struggle, and all the while, the cube’s enzymes eat its trapped victim alive.

Dungeon Cleaners

While gelatinous cubes will pursue and engulf living prey that gets close enough, they are, for the most part, passive feeders. A gelatinous cube uses its ability to pick up strong odours to move towards things that may be digestible, such as waste, carpets of mould, or corpses of things slain by other creatures. While these relatively large gluts are rare and often consumed within hours of a gelatinous cube finding it, a gelatinous cube can survive almost indefinitely on far more meagre rations, including dried blood stains, sparse lichens, or even just dust. As such, a gelatinous cube that cannot sense a big meal simply drifts along at a snail’s pace, aimlessly wandering as it leaves behind only a perfectly clean floor as it goes, all the dirt consumed to fuel its crawling journey.

Many experienced adventurers learn to associate apparently unmaintained ruins and the like whose floors and walls lack the expected dust and overgrowth with the possible presence of a gelatinous cube, necessitating going on high alert to try and spot their transparent forms. Many adventurers who suspect a gelatinous cube is around venture forth holding a spear or long pole ahead of them, the hope being that the implement will collide with the ooze before anyone walks into it.

Though debilitating to most living things, a gelatinous cube’s acidity is merely a tool for feeding. As such, gelatinous cube enzymes only break down what is worth the effort to feed on. This is poor comfort for one trapped in a gelatinous cube; such an individual and their companions should work to get them out of the cube as quickly as possible, since flesh, living or dead, is easily digested. With a few hours, a gelatinous cube can begin to feed on tougher organic substances, like leather and textiles, but exceedingly tough or indigestible matter such as bone, metal, and rock are untouched by the cube’s digestion. Generally, a gelatinous cube passes such inedible matter after about a day of having consumed it, leaving the bones and inedible possessions of its victims in disorganised but spotless piles in its wake. A gelatinous cube that has recently eaten, however, is more noticeable than normal, often looking like a floating swarm of armour pieces, coins, and bones.

Sex and Sexuality Among Gelatinous Cubes

Like most oozes, gelatinous cubes do not mate in order to produce more of themselves. When a gelatinous cube grows to about an eighth over its stable ten by ten by ten-foot size, typically after a large meal, that extra mass is apportioned off to form a new gelatinous cube. However, the method of this apportionment is not as simple as it is for many oozes.

Like all oozes, gelatinous cubes have a non-acidic pussy and womb. On a gelatinous cube, the vagina is often found right in the centre of one of its vertical faces, typically the face opposite the one with its breasts on it. In most oozes, the pussy and the chamber it connects to are practically functionless, a singular spot of reduced amorphousness necessitated by existence in Nymphona’s world. However, when a gelatinous cube becomes too large, it is into their womb that all the excess mass is pumped and shaped into a new cube, normally taking only a day or two to do so. Unlike other oozes, which split their mass more or less evenly when they reproduce, a gelatinous cube only releases enough of its mass to return it to its stable size, thus creating a gelatinous cube only an eighth its size to push out through its pussy in a manner oddly similar to normal birth. These miniature cubes are referred to by some as pups. As one should expect from creatures with essentially no mental function, gelatinous cubes have no parental instincts towards their pups beyond not eating them and so the pups are on their own, the process of growing to full size and reproducing themselves being not a matter of time but food, most gelatinous cubes take years to grow, surviving of dirt and debris, but if given a vast supply of edible matter, a gelatinous cube pup could be fully grown and birthing its own pups in a matter of days.

Why gelatinous cubes reproduce in such a complicated manner is debated amongst sages; the most basic reason may be that splitting would constitute a major and possibly fatal injury on a gelatinous cube’s carefully structured body, so it must be more careful as to how it apportions itself off. As for why it uses its womb, this may be due to the lack of enzymes in this area. Experiments show that a gelatinous cube’s outer layer can be harmed by its own internal enzymes. As such, the only place inside itself where a gelatinous cube can undergo the relatively complex task of constructing a new gelatinous cube without her project being digested is within her unreactive uterus, the vagina then providing a non-acidic path out of the mother’s body.

Men to Gelatinous Cubes

Like most oozes, gelatinous cubes generally lack the insight to identify someone by sex. As such, a gelatinous cube has no opinions on men besides them being another potential foodstuff. Lacking the intelligence to comprehend barter or threats and having no mind to grip with enchantments, one generally cannot compel a gelatinous cube to cooperate in any attempts to fuck her, not even to not attack a man close enough to put their dick in her under threat of death. Thanks to a gelatinous cube’s inability to subsume its own pussy, it struggles to engulf a man fucking it, but it can still lash at him with acidic pseudopods. The only real way to fuck a gelatinous cube is by either rendering oneself impervious to her acid or rendering her unable to attack. Since a gelatinous cube’s outer layer is not acidic, a cube rendered incapable of engulfing victims or extruding pseudopods is safe to touch and grope, as long as one doesn’t actively try to plunge through this layer.

Some say that, among the oozes, gelatinous cubes may be the most docile. What exactly that means for a creature incapable of telling friend from foe is hard to tell. Some claim that if taken as a pup and regularly fed a man’s sperm through sex, a gelatinous cube will come to recognise that sexual compliance and loyalty to a man earns her a more reliable source of food than eating him, thus earning him an exotic pet and living sexual toy. The truth of this, however, is doubtful; this rumour is rarely tested, and there are few reports to suggest a man tried this to any great success. The only individuals, male or female, to have successfully “tamed” a gelatinous cube, beyond simply putting it in an inescapable pit as an acidic waste disposal, have mostly been cultists of Juiblex.

Chapter 208: Grey Ooze

In most stories, most oozes are claimed to be descended from the discarded runoff of Juiblex, the effluent of a demon lord of filth. However, there is one varietal of oozes that seem to possess multiple origins. Born from insane alchemical experimentation, created by magic gone awry, or warped into being by the encroachment of unstable realms on reality, all of these methods seem capable of rendering grey oozes out of unliving minerals. Regardless of their origins, grey oozes largely seem consistent in behaviour with more natural oozes, and most creatures seem to count them as true oozes all the same, even the demon lord of ooze herself.

Liquid Stone

When at rest, sitting alone in a motionless clump, a grey ooze generally resembles a wet, somewhat oily rock pile. Only when the ooze moves is this illusion broken. This extremely close textural resemblance to stone comes from the fact that grey oozes are in fact made of the material. Despite this, a grey ooze remains just as slime-like as any other ooze, able to bend and shape herself in any way necessary, slither along walls, and squeeze through gaps smaller than an inch without slowing down, not to mention the grey ooze’s natural ooze-like corrosiveness.

A grey ooze’s ability to defy the natural properties of what she is made of in favour of acting like organically produced acidic slime is not a chemical matter but a magical, planar one. At a base, fundamental level, matter gains its properties through the inherent force of order that pervades the universe, stating that fire is hot, water flows, stone is solid, and so on. However, the dominion of law is not universal throughout reality, and where its power wanes, the power of chaos breaks down the barriers of what should be. Where chaos finds its way into stone, it can come to life as a grey ooze.

Chaos worms their way into rock through a variety of methods. Many magics, particularly sorcery, transmutation, and advanced alchemies, are inherently destabilising, filled with the forces of unpredictability and change. Miscast spells or improperly made potions can cause all manner of unintended effects, among which may be impregnation of chaos within stone objects, turning them into ooze. As well as conscious, if not intentional, applications of chaos, stone can also be turned into grey ooze by gradual exposure to chaotic realms. Portals, beings, and artefacts of planes saturated in uncontrolled chaos tend to warp and mutate all that come near them, including the very rock itself. As well as Juiblex’s home, the Abyss, other planes whose influences are known to birth grey oozes include Pandemonium, the Plane of Madness; the undivided well of chaos incarnate known as Limbo; and the Far Realm, a plane of aberrant unknowability mortal minds cannot even begin to comprehend. Regardless of all these separate sources, Juiblex seems to have adopted all grey oozes as her children and seems to have the loyalty of most of them, insofar as a mindless lump of squishy, acidic rock can show loyalty.

Perhaps due to their naturally mineral-based nature, grey oozes show the natural ability to break down and digest metal. Unlike other metal-melting oozes, namely black puddings, a grey ooze’s ability to break down metal doesn’t come from being simply overwhelmingly corrosive. In most other ways, a grey ooze’s acidic potency is similar to that of an ochre jelly or a gelatinous cube. Instead, a grey ooze simply seems adapted specifically to the consumption of metal. A grey ooze consuming the remains of a fallen warrior, for example, may leave no trace of flesh, weapons, and armour but would leave behind its victim's skeleton and wooden shield, possibly stripped of all the nails and fittings that held it together. Thanks to this quirk, a fight with a grey ooze not only endangers an adventurer’s health but may also hobble their arms and equipment.

Psychically Impressionable

Despite their inorganic construction, grey oozes generally live similar simplistic lives to other oozes. They wander aimlessly, avoiding sunlight but being attracted to strong odours and warm moist areas, looking for both living prey and rotting detritus to feed upon. Most grey oozes lack anything even comparable to more than the most basic of bestial intelligences and barely seem to comprehend anything they encounter far beyond simple edibility. Some grey oozes, however, are different.

Perhaps due to their inherent magic, grey oozes that live a long enough time may eventually begin to change in some fundamental, unseen ways. The simplest observation of such a changed grey ooze is the sudden development of supernatural psionic abilities. Interestingly, development of these powers in grey oozes tends to be more prevalent in areas home to naturally psionic beings, such as mind flayers, aboleths, and gith. This has led some to believe that, despite their natural absence of intelligent minds, grey oozes can somehow pick up on the emanations of psionic beings and absorb or possibly even learn from them.

In general, the abilities a psychic grey ooze exhibits aren’t the most incredible gifts one could fear, though whether this is an inherent limit or the result of poor intelligence is hard to tell. The extent tends to be some minor telekinesis, a general awareness of thinking minds in the ooze’s vicinity, and an ability to deliver painful telepathic jabs to try and incapacitate the prey before going in for the kill. In addition to this offensive ability, however, what is subtly clearer in these psychic oozes is a marked increase in intelligence. While psychic grey oozes rarely seem capable of or inclined to communicate and don’t show signs of dwelling on philosophical conundrums beyond the source of their next meal, they can engage in simple tactics that would be beyond the intellect of a regular ooze, such as hanging back and letting less intelligent kin meet foes in melee, striking psychically from the safety of the rear ranks, and closing in to feed only when the enemy is defeated.

Sex and Sexuality Among Grey Oozes

Like most oozes, sex is a practically absent part of most grey oozes’ natural lives. Even the marginally more intelligent psychic grey oozes tend not to display anything resembling emotional interest in sex or a draw to sexual pleasure. Like other oozes, a grey ooze simply creates another of its kind without mating once it has eaten enough. However, there are a few unique differences between grey oozes and other kinds of oozes when it comes to reproduction.

In most oozes, eating a large meal causes them to grow until they reach a critical mass and split in two. However, grey oozes tend not to naturally grow in size or weight, normally lingering at around a quarter or possibly half another species of ooze’s natural size no matter how much they eat. Many sages suggest a grey ooze may break its food down into pure magic or raw chaos rather than physical nutrients.

When this storage of supernatural power reaches a certain level, a grey ooze is ready to reproduce. However, grey oozes do not split; their seeming difficulty in making themselves grow causes them to generally not divide even when slashed by a blade. Instead, a grey ooze drapes itself over a rock, tile, or other object made of stone and simply sits still for a while, pumping her excess energy into the inanimate object until it liquefies, becoming a grey ooze in its own right. Regardless of their intelligence, grey oozes do not generally parent their offspring, instead leaving them to fend for themselves once they come to life.

Men to Grey Oozes

Like most oozes, the average grey ooze has little perception of men and cannot be persuaded, encouraged, or intimidated into complying with sexual encounters with them. Psychic grey oozes, being more intelligent and having a vague awareness of the minds near them, do seem to have some ability to identify men. However, this ability does not come with any particular favour or disdain for men, only the occasional use of tactics like attempting to contort themselves into more alluring shapes to get men to drop their guard, showing a fundamental understanding of what men are and how their minds function.

Some men have the idea that a psychic grey ooze, with its greater capacity to reason, could reasonably be intimidated or offered a reliable supply of food in exchange for being a compliant sexual partner. So far, these efforts have mostly been for naught, with grey oozes showing themselves to be disinterested in bargaining and unafraid of death in most cases, with only a few particularly, uniquely intelligent instances showing any willingness to fuck. In most other cases, nothing short of complete acid immunity or magical restraint can make a grey ooze safe to have sex with.

Grey oozes have also been important in providing suggestions in certain portions of male sexual capability. Some sages suggest that men are not truly capable of getting oozes pregnant; instead, when a man shoots his load into the cavity generously called its womb, the ooze simply absorbs and digests his sperm, the influx of food sometimes pushing it over its critical mass, causing it to self-reproduce just as readily as it would if given a carcass or pile of rotting refuse. If this is the case, one would expect a grey ooze fucked and filled with cum by a man to sometimes head off and use the power she derived from breaking down his cum to instil a rock with chaos, making a new grey ooze as is normal for her kind. Sometimes this happens, but other times something strange occurs.

Over a period of years, the grey ooze grows, a feat rarely seen among her kind, slowly swelling in size until she is about double her initial mass. At this point, the grey ooze splits, forming two oozes of regular grey ooze size. This suggests to some that, on occasion, a man’s sperm is somehow able to form a secondary life of some description within an ooze, and that this secondary life must be physically excised from the first ooze in order to independently live. This suggests that men can cause pregnancy in oozes, but in other kinds of oozes, this pregnancy simply resembles their natural reproduction.

Chapter 209: Ochre Jelly

When most imagine an ooze, what comes to mind is normally a living, crawling blob of virulently coloured, acidic slime, amorphous but for its mostly stable tits and usually hidden pussy. As such, the ochre jelly may be the archetypical ooze with its shapeless mass and yellowy colour. However, this typicality may only be skin deep, for the feeding method of ochre jellies bears a level of specialisation that is shocking for their utter lack of intelligence.

Oozing Stalker

In most cases, oozes are largely scavengers, feeding mostly on corpses and detritus left behind by more complex creatures, only attacking living prey when they happen across them. Ochre jellies are different, often willing to hunt down living prey with a preference. This is not to say that an ochre jelly will not abandon a hunt in order to digest a carcass or wallow in a waste heap, but they seem to largely ignore residual traces of edible matter like bloodstains and incidental filth when there is a hunt afoot. It must usually be a commensurately large carcass or mound of waste to draw an ochre jelly away from her victim even temporarily, and once her meal is had, she will normally get right back on the victim’s trail.

Many believe this hopping-from-carcass-to-carcass behaviour is what initialised the predatory instincts in ochre jellies, specifically in response to one lethal force in their underground homes. Adventurers are generally less stealthy and environmentally aware than the creatures native to the tunnels and dungeons they venture into. As such, adventurers tend to blaze through an area, defending themselves against creatures that native life would have avoided, often by employing lethal force. Usually disinterested in their foe’s flesh, any ooze who learns to follow an adventuring party’s trail, tasting where they stepped, can come across a great deal of food just lying around. If they manage to catch up, it then only follows for the ooze to try and eat the adventurers. Though an ooze might be killed in the attempt, the many, many corpses it fed on to approach them normally means that it created a few offspring before it was slain.

Like most oozes, an ochre jelly has a few challenges in the way of it being an effective pursuer. Most people can outpace an ochre jelly in full pursuit at a leisurely stroll. What is more, lacking any true form of sight, an ochre jelly can only begin to pinpoint a victim’s location at around thirty paces. However, this assumes that the prey knows that an ochre jelly is in pursuit and is taking the most direct path away from it. More commonly, an ochre jelly will stumble upon the taste of a victim’s trail a little while after they passed by, meaning that the stalked have no idea of their new status as they go about their business, slowed down by simple curiosity, backtracking, and a number of hurdles that their stalker has far less difficulty with.

Able to squeeze through gaps less than an inch wide and crawl across walls and ceilings just as easily as they can floors, many subterranean obstacles that may take adventurers a little while to traverse can take an ochre jelly seconds to navigate. While monsters may slow the adventures down, they are normally dead by the time their ooze pursuer gets to them, letting them simply have a quick snack before resuming their pursuit uninhibited. Most notably, while oozes generally don’t seem to need sleep or at least don’t need to stop following in order to do so, their prey does, letting ochre jellies catch up with their faster targets when they are most vulnerable. As such, while an ochre jelly can be easily run from if spotted, truly shaking it from one’s trail is incredibly challenging. An ochre jelly can maintain its slow pursuit for days, its pursuit only called off if the trail passes into extended sunlight, a forded river, or some other barrier that threatens to harm the ooze or eliminates the odorous trail it was following.

Mindless Predator

Though an ochre jelly’s tracking abilities are fairly admirable, its assault methods once it’s within sensing range of its target only bear a small amount of this refinement. Generally preferring to strike from above, an ochre jelly who is close enough to her prey to begin smelling them in the air rather than tasting them on the ground slithers up to the roof of whatever cave or room they find themselves in. From there, trying its best to go unseen until the last moment, the ooze positions itself above one of the potential prey and then simply lets herself drop, allowing her acidic mass to drive in the initial blow.

In comparison to other oozes, ochre jelly enzymes are not particularly acidic. Made to quickly consume and then move on, an ochre jelly digests flesh, rot, offal, and other easily broken down matter, leaving behind bones and personal effects without any concern of how it may warn other creatures of its presence, since an ochre jelly rarely stays long enough in one area for that to be a concern anyway. Thanks to this, some more intelligent creatures have learnt to follow the acid-marked trail of an ochre jelly, picking through the utterly clean skeletons of its victims and taking the coins, equipment, and other valuables it left behind.

With relatively weak enzymes, bringing down prey by corrosion alone would be a time-consuming process in which the counterattacks of the struggling victim and their allies would be more likely to do significant harm or even slay it. As such, an ochre jelly does its best to incapacitate its prey quickly. Surprisingly, a creature brought down by an ochre jelly falls more so by blunt force trauma than by pre-digestion, as an ochre jelly thumps them with its sheer bulk. While it can grab and stick to victims, ochre jellies generally lack the precise bodily control to fully engulf struggling prey, as black puddings and gelatinous cubes do, instead hurling their mass into prey like a clumsy, moderately corrosive bludgeon.

When a group of adventurers comes under attack by an ochre jelly, it is often, but not always, accompanied by other oozes, particularly others of their kind. This leads some to claim that ochre jellies are pack hunters, like wolves or lionesses. This theory is doubtful, since an ochre jelly tends to lack the mental capacity for social connection of such complexity, as do most other oozes. In general, most oozes seem capable of recognising other oozes and usually don’t waste their energy preying on them. As such, when multiple ochre jellies stumble across the same trail or a jelly divides while following said trail, the multiple jellies may well follow it together, attacking as one by virtue of being together when they happen to catch up.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ochre Jellies

As with most oozes, ochre jellies do not naturally reproduce by having sex, largely possessing breasts and female sexual organs simply because it is a requirement of existence. Instead of gestating young within them for a set period of time, when an ochre jelly multiplies depends largely on when and how much an ochre jelly had to eat. Most of the time, an ochre jelly eats relatively little, just about sustaining itself at its resting size. However, when a glut of food arrives, such as the remains of the various monsters slain by the adventurers it is following, it can swell above its stable size multiple times, each time causing it to divide into two new oozes. Thanks to this, a single ochre jelly following a particularly violent band of adventurers can become a small army by the time it catches up to them.

Like most oozes, an ochre jelly reproduces by division, simply splitting in half naturally when it grows overweight, each half becoming a slightly underweight new ooze. This splitting can be triggered not only by size but by outside forces. When a knight’s sword or a wizard’s lightning bolt cleaves through an ochre jelly’s homogenous body, it carries the split down the entire body, using the blow to more easily split itself in half. While the resultant ochre jellies are smaller than usual, they retain much of their original power, meaning that a combatant looking to destroy an enemy is suddenly faced with two.

Men to Ochre Jellies

Ochre jellies largely do not have the intelligence to identify when the quarry they are chasing is male, and as such do not act all that differently when dealing with a male creature than a female one. Perhaps the only difference between male and female adventurers as far as an ochre jelly is concerned is that it feeds more on sperm than on corpses while perusing them, since men typically prefer to solve encounters with sex rather than violence most of the time, though this isn’t a firm rule for all men.

When it comes to fucking the ochre jelly itself, men have the same challenges that most oozes present. An ochre jelly is too stupid to threaten or persuade into having sex, and forcing a jelly to fuck is likely more injurious to the man than the ooze, seeing as the, bar its vagina, the latter is an amorphous mass of acidic slime. Only paralytic magic or magical immunity to acids can make an ochre jelly relatively safe to fuck.

Chapter 210: Orc

Feet stamp, chants to evil goddesses are shouted, and ragged banners are flown; an orc raid is far from a subtle approach, yet it is no less terrifying. In their own myths, their creator goddess, Gruumsh, was one of Nymphona's most instrumental allies in cleaving reality from the unspeakable chaos that came before, not as refined or “gifted” in qualities such as mercy, but a brutal warrior and pragmatic survivalist that got the job done. However, when the battle was done, the world was made, and Nymphona stepped back into the shadows, seemingly content to let the lesser goddesses divide the world between them as they saw fit.

When Grummsh had come forward to claim a place for her creation, the orcs, she found that the other goddesses had already conspired to deny them anywhere in the new world. Moradin had already placed her dwarves in the mountains, with no intent to share. Likewise, Corellon Larethian’s elves pranced through the forest, and the plains were full of humans and halflings, of whom no goddess claimed responsibility for protecting, but many refused Gruumsh the right to exterminate. It was thus that Gruumsh, in fury, brought her orcs down like a hammer blow. If the other goddesses would not have their children peacefully abide alongside her creations, her creations’ place would be to ensure none knew peace again.

While a not insignificant number of orcs have, over the years, rejected the purpose Gruumsh ascribed for them, their passions turning to other deities or causes, most remain her fervent servants. Orcs fight with inflamed passions and rage, often lacking the tactical and technological advantage over their foes but making up for it with numbers and individual power.

Built for Power

An orc can generally be identified first and foremost by her size and imposing figure. Few orcs are shorter than six feet tall, and two hundred and thirty pounds is considered light for them. Other features that identify an orc include grey skin, black hair, tusks that jut from the lower jaws, and dark eyes with very little white to them. Most of an orc’s bulk typically comes from muscle and dense bones, which translates to an incredible degree of strength. Most adult orcs can bend an iron bar in their bare hands and pull laden carts designed for oxen or horses without breaking a sweat. More commonly, however, this strength is used in combat, orcs learning how to fight with simple, overwhelming brutality from their youth, normally attacking with large weapons such as great-axes and mauls, either stolen from prior enemies or shoddily made with the little metalwork knowledge the tribe possesses.

Suiting their power, orcs are also notably unafraid in battle, only retreating when they have what they want or when the day is truly unwinnable. Some ascribe this to stupidity. While it is true that orcs, especially those still aligned to Gruumsh, tend not to pursue much in the way of intellectual stimulation in favour of focusing on strength, orcs generally understand the dangers of combat and simply assess them as acceptable or even desirable for a variety of reasons.

Firstly, orcs are remarkably resilient people, able to shrug off minor blows with ease and survive strikes that most people would consider fatal. An orc with multiple arrows in the chest may go on to fight for hours before dropping dead. An orc whose hand was lopped off may be back on the battlefield in days, a crude prosthetic in the limb’s place. There are even some stories, possibly apocryphal, of heroes who successfully slew an orc of note, cutting off their head, only to encounter them again at a later date, alive, with suspicious stitch marks surrounding their neck.

Of course, orcs are not immortal, nor are they under any illusion to the fact. An orc is generally considered unfathomably ancient at less than half a century old, with most orcs expecting to die much younger in battle. This is not a dreaded fate for most, however. Though an orc who is outmatched may try to escape to fight another day, most orcs believe that to die in battle is a glorious honour. When an orc dies fighting in Gruumsh’s name, their soul is called by the goddess to their afterlife in Acheron. Though the Infernal Battlefield may seem a little axiomatic for the generally chaotic nature of the orcs and their goddesses, it is also a plane of endless war, with endless opportunity to revel in battle and carnage alongside one’s goddess for eternity.

Strength of the Horde

The purpose of an orc’s existence, as described by Gruumsh, is to grow powerful and to be part of a powerful tribe. Thanks to this, orcs strive every day to show their power; any excuse for a fight is taken, arguments between allies tend to devolve into fistfights, uncooperative strangers are either intimidated or killed, and locked doors are battered down. Trying to solve a problem with wits or words beyond threats one intends to back up is considered an offence to the orc’s creator.

Despite this constant struggle, orcs must unite to overwhelm their enemies. Gruumsh commands her creations to form hordes together. Most orcs thus live in tribes of anywhere from ten to one hundred members. These tribes are held together by a single orc war chief, an orc whose power and ruthlessness earn her the obedience of the tribe and the blessings of Gruumsh. Often assisting the chief is generally at least one so-called Eye of Gruumsh, a priestess of the goddess, named for the rather grisly requirement of joining her clergy, the willing removal of one of the prospective priestess’ eyes. With the power to bless the tribe and foresee the success of attacks, an Eye of Gruumsh is one of the few orcs able to advise the war chief on their plans without being violently punished for going against her will, though only when couched in the decipherment of Gruumsh.

Most orc tribes are also willing to accept other creatures into their ranks, so long as they bolster the tribe’s strength. An ogre, manticore, or similar powerful monster may be bribed into fighting alongside orcs with promises of food and loot, while weaker creatures like goblins and kobolds may be bullied into service. Many orc tribes also tame certain fearsome animals as war beasts, such as bears, boars, and wolves.

On the other hand, orcs are also quite easily manipulated into the service of any creature that proves strong or ruthless enough to lead them into battle and can bring them both glory and treasure for their service. Some simply muscle their way in. Warlords of all humanoid races, chromatic dragons, and evil giants often just slay a war chief and any who dare try to take their place, taking the position at the head of the tribe for themselves. More magical threats such as hags and evil spellcasters may be more manipulative, weaving false omens that trick the orcs into believing that Gruumsh has chosen them to lead.

Generally, orc tribes are only a minor menace to civilisation, harrying border settlements, picking occasional travellers off the road, and fighting each other just as often as others. Sometimes, however, either under the power of a particularly powerful orc or a villain of another sort, multiple orc tribes become subjugated under a single banner, forming a horde that numbers in the hundreds or even thousands. When such a horde arises, it can crash upon civilisation as an unceasing tide of destruction.

Orcs are, unless compelled by an outside force, more so raiders than conquerors. While most tribes will seize a cave, set of ruins, or an enemy fortress as their home, orcs generally lack the inclination to claim lands they overrun or rule over those they defeat. At the end of a successful orc invasion, the orcs generally load up their carts with loot and then go home, leaving burning buildings and decimated populations behind. Despite what some may believe, orcs generally do not take living captives back with them unless they are compelled to do so by a higher power. Orcs lack the logistical motivation to keep slaves or ransom victims and are generally just as willing to let the weak flee before them as die by their hands. What orcs normally claim are food to sustain them, materials to make more weapons out of, and treasure over which they can gloat.

Sex and Sexuality Among Orcs

The first and most vital instruction given to the orcs by Gruumsh is to be fruitful and multiply so as to ensure the orc threat remains omnipresent and unending. As such, orcs have a violently overwhelming reproductive instinct. This instinct is countered only by one thing: the fact that all orcs have a cultural push to be dominant and that pregnancy does, somewhat, dampen an orc’s capability to fight. As such, all orcs, at least outwardly, want to be impregnating as many others as possible.

Among themselves, this drive to sexual dominance leads to a system of harem masters, wives and desperate bachelorettes. As well as sheer strength and ferocity, an orc’s standing can also be gauged by how many wives they keep. Generally only the upper crust of the orc population can keep wives, often disparagingly called sows, having the power to dominate other orcs and make them into a harem. While powerful orcs can and do rape one another in contests of power, it is rare for a powerful orc to be raped into complete submission as her superior’s bride. More often, the most powerful orcs in the tribe, generally the top ten percent or so, divide the lower half of the tribe, the ones mostly left behind when the warriors go raiding, among themselves, with the chief taking the most, followed by her closest allies and rivals, and so on. Between the harem masters and their brides are orcs that, while strong enough to be not worth subjugating, are currently too young, inexperienced, or otherwise unimpressive to claim their own brides, forcing them to languish in ambiguity until they can wrest enough power and respect to gain the rights to breed.

This pattern of the strongest orcs breeding the weakest may seem counter to Gruumsh’s creed of strength; however, it comes from a matter of simple logistics. When a gap in power between two orcs is slight, the stronger must strive constantly to keep the weaker subjugated. Only when faced with someone significantly superior to them in strength does an orc submit to the tyranny and protection of a master. Since Gruumsh favours many offspring over superior offspring in most cases, a powerful orc’s time is better spent impregnating multiple inferior sows than constantly reigning in one that is capable of standing up to her. In any case, weakness is a matter of comparison in most cases. If they find themselves in combat, even orcs the tribe labels only as sows can hold their own against trained soldiers of other races.

Orc pregnancies typically last only six months, and twins, triplets, or other multiple births are not uncommon. As one may expect, young orcs grow quickly. Though outright assaulting orc children is a deep taboo against the goddesses’ will that even the most violent orcs would hesitate to perform, upbringing is harsh, with the strongest, meanest orcs getting first access to their mother’s breast, first pick when food comes, and the majority of their mother’s praise, the harem master patter only paying individual attention to the most promising of all her daughters. For all its harshness, orc childhood is often short, with adulthood coming at around a decade and a half at the latest.

With the instinct to breed and multiply buried so deeply inside them, orcs are not so fussy about having sex just with their own kind. So long as the resultant offspring is powerful and makes the horde superior, Gruumsh usually has no issue with these affairs and may even encourage them. Common hybrids include ogrillons, the giant-blooded result of a union between an ogre and an orc; boogins, the furred offspring of an orc and a cave-dwelling quaggoth; and the many hybrids of orcs and other humanoids, such as hobgoblins, bugbears, and particularly humans, known collectively as half-orcs.

These latter hybrids tend to combine an orc’s strength and resilience with their other parent’s capability for cunning and creativity, often helping them advance surprisingly far for the lack of physical advantages they have over full-blooded orcs. Of course, with creativity comes a greater capacity to question Gruumsh’s selfish ways, and as such, there are a reasonable number of half-orc bloodlines that do not subscribe to the regular orcish culture of evil, often living among other civilised races, living lives of virtue or relative peace.

A lot of people assume that most half-orc bloodlines come from victims raped by an orc raider. This is generally not true. Of all the atrocities orcs regularly perform on the battlefield, rape or abduction of an enemy for the purposes of breeding is uncommon. An unwilling bride is, like any other prisoner, a logistical hurdle that must be watched and supervised at essentially all times, keeping potential warriors back home, away from battle, watching them prevent escapes or sabotage. Meanwhile, victims raped in the field and left behind go on to birth “superior” orc-blooded children who, without the guidance of their kind’s religious indoctrination, may be beguiled into fighting for their weak mother, thus causing the rapist to have created an enemy of Gruumsh.

Instead, most pairings that create half-orcs are, arguably, consensual. With how pragmatic orcs are in pursuit of a stronger horde, it is not uncommon for orcs to accept non-orc warriors into their tribes, so long as they prove themselves powerful and ruthless. Likewise, orcs subjugated by a greater force may suddenly find themselves fighting alongside their new leader’s other soldiery. On occasion this unification may be marked with mating between the united groups, creating half-orcs.

Men to Orcs

Female orcs generally understand the nature of men surprisingly well compared to women of other races, given the surface-level similarity between a man’s general desires and the command Gruumsh gave to them, to breed and multiply. Orcs, in general, respect this part of male nature just as they can respect the strength of an enemy able to match them in martial combat. However, there are a few things that prevent orcs from immediately submitting to a man’s virility. Firstly, orc sows generally stay in and near the lair of an orc tribe, caring for young and maintaining the place. Most of the orcs whom a man is likely to meet, therefore, tend to be mistresses of their own harem or hopeful bachelorettes that plan to become so in time.

Either way, a man barging in, looking to fuck or impregnate such an orc, directly threatens her standing in the tribe, which would likely drop significantly should he manage to impregnate her, with some more precariously placed warriors even becoming consigned to lifelong sowdom should pregnancy befall them. Even orcs mighty enough that one pregnancy won’t shunt them into the ranks of lifelong breeding stock suffer from wounds to their reputation. Many an orc horde has collapsed into fractious infighting at its leader’s impregnation by a man, just as surely as if she had been killed. When it comes to sows themselves, sows are usually considered to belong to a particular orc warrior, and while a particularly strong man may be able to arouse an orc sow’s interest, most orc warriors will sooner try to kill a man than let him fuck their wives.

Interestingly, given that all that separates an orc warrior from her sows is the gap in strength between them, not any specific level of strength, a man of particularly great power can conceivably force any orc he can physically dominate into obedience. Instead of enmity or fear, an orc raped by a man often offers him respect or even obedience. Some men have used this to attain orc bodyguards or adventuring companions, but attempting to rape too many orcs into obedience is a risk. While they may individually fear and respect his cock, a large number of orcs may eventually decide that one man cannot prevent them all from following the goals of Gruumsh, to raid and despoil; as such, unless a man’s goals are to spread violence and desolation, keeping more than one or two Gruumsh-worshipping orcs on hand is always a risk.

Men are also sometimes born among orcs. Among orcs, a male born into their tribe is considered a gift from Gruumsh’s primary wife, the orc goddess Luthic, sent specifically when she believes that orc numbers are too low and a population explosion is due. As such, male orcs are often hidden and protected by the priestesses of Luthic, who know that many powerful orcs, chiefs in particular, may wish to see a man cast out or even slain, heavy taboos be damned, for the threat a man poses to their positions. Male orcs grow quickly, like their female counterparts, but are taught by their carers that sex is something to be taken, not asked for. Doubly compelled to breed by both their masculinity and the voice of Gruumsh in their dreams, a male orc pushes himself with ferocity rarely seen even among orcs so that, by the time he is grown, few can stand against him.

An adult male orc can thus push himself up the ranks of the orc hierarchy rapidly, earning claim to an unprecedented proportion of the tribe’s sows, followed by lesser warriors he physically and sexually pummels into a new mixed rank, known as warrior sows. Eventually a male orc will likely overcome his tribe's war chief, claiming the title for himself and making her the final sow of his initial ascent. With the whole tribe being both his wives and his warriors, a male orc’s tribe grows exponentially. Combined with his instinct to wander from being a male, this turns a male orc’s tribe into an exponentially growing roving tide of orcs, monsters, and other warlike creatures willing to breed and fight for him.

Chapter 211: Orog

Few people can imagine how a horde of orcs, raging at the gates of civilisation in numbers unfathomable, could be made any worse. The answer to that is by the addition of even one of their close relatives, an orog, as an advisor or chieftain, or, even worse, having a platoon of orogs bolster their army. Few on the surface can even begin to picture the horror of a vast orog horde. Born deep in the depths of the Underdark, the average orog is not only stronger, tougher, and better armed than the average orc, but they are smarter and, arguably, more given to evil too. Not even orcs tend to like orogs, for where orcs and orogs meet, the latter almost always seizes leadership from the former. The orogs are, arguably the orcs’ superiors in all but three respects: their total inflexibility from their cruel mindsets, their lesser favour from their Gruumsh, and their sensitivity to sunlight, the discomfort of which has mostly, thankfully, left the orogs confined to the Underdark and occasional surface raids.

Orcs Improved

At a cursory glance, an orc and an orog can seem fairly similar. Both are big, tusked, and grey-skinned humanoids, built to rend anything they can get their hands on. Only one experienced in orcs or seeing one of each standing side by side could realistically differentiate them. For one thing, orogs are generally taller than orcs, with the average height of an orc being about the minimum for orogs. Though they can stoop quite dramatically to make their way through cramped caves, orogs tend to stand straighter than orcs when space allows.

Orog skin is also notably darker and more stonelike in visible texture than orc skin, made to help them blend into their underground environments on the rare occasions they choose to use stealth. Physically, orog skin is generally as tough as cowhide, except for one weakness. While nowhere near as dramatic as, say, a vampire, an orog’s body tends to react poorly to sunlight. As well as stinging her eyes, an orog who received extended exposure to the sun over the course of even half an hour may begin to receive skin blisters and sunburns akin to what a human may gain from dozing for hours in direct summer sunshine.

Perhaps the most obvious identifier of an orog is how they tend to be equipped. While an orc will, obviously, equip themselves with the best gear they can get their hands on, an orc’s ability to craft for themselves is generally limited. The average orc will wear barely treated hides as armour and wield an axe or maul with a head crudely fashioned from melted-down farming tools. Orogs, on the other hand, are able crafters of the materials of their subterranean environment, metal and stone. While the smiths and masons of the orogs are seldom a match for dwarven or fire giant work, they most certainly trump the so-called crafters among orcs, being able to make heavy metal armour and refined weapons for even the lowliest orog soldier.

Orogs use this advanced armament and superior power in conjunction with generally superior combat skills. In general, the average orc receives little in the way of formal combat training beyond fighting one of their siblings for food and attention in childhood. Therefore, an orc generally throws herself at the enemy, trusting in her animalistic strength and violent instincts to see her through. Orogs chiefs, however, drill combat techniques into each and every one of their soldiers and children from the minute they can walk. As such, while an attacking orog is still an engine of violent rage, it is focused into exceptionally precise blows, designed to bring the full weight of her superior strength onto a foe to horrendously lethal effect.

This lethality is also a significant difference between orcs and orogs. While an orc would not hesitate to kill an enemy in combat, they are generally more interested in plunder and general destruction rather than outright slaughter. If someone flees, leaving their goods and the treasures behind for the orc to claim, most orcs are happy to let the weakling scarper, the exception being if they have orders or a particular enmity driving them to kill the individual, such as the common hatred many orcs have for elves thanks to their goddesses’ rivalry and the battle with Corellon that cost Gruumsh her eye. Orogs, on the other hand, are killers by default; if someone is at their mercy, an average orog will almost always choose murder, unless there is some clear benefit in their mind to keeping the person alive, an event which usually bodes only slightly better for the victim.

Children of Luthic

Unlike orcs, orogs are not the direct creation of Gruumsh; instead, they are the creation of Luthic, the orc goddess of fertility and caves, as well as Gruumsh’s primary wife, the only one of her many, many sows, most orcs consider worthy of noting by name. When Gruumsh’s creations were denied a place in the world and the one-eyed goddess set them on the path of destruction in vengeance, Luthic birthed the first orogs deep in the caverns of the Underdark to aid her mistress in her campaign of destruction. This is likely why orogs are so much more physically imposing than regular orcs and why they mentally differ so much from Gruumsh’s vision.

When Gruumsh initially made the orcs, her designs for them were to make them hardy survivors who would overcome the dangers inherent in the brutality of life and spend their entire existence offering fervent praise and proving themselves to her. When Gruumsh and the orcs were scorned, the goddess set them on a new path but found that her strong, driven, fanatical children did not need much changing to raid and despoil in her name. Orogs, however, were not made with independent lives as accepted beings of the world in mind. Instead, Luthic made them to be as best able as possible to kill, destroy, and lay claim to all held dear by those who slighted her mate.

As a result, orogs are mentally quite unlike the orcs. The most famous difference is intelligence. While orcs can sometimes be smart, any given orog will generally be smarter than any given orc most of the time. An average orog foot soldier is unlikely to be a genius, but they will likely be literate, able to operate complex war machines, and capable of adapting well-honed tactics in the face of a changing battlefield. The leaders of orogs tend to be even more cunning, being not only formidable warriors but also shrewd tacticians that can outsmart human, dwarven, and even elven generals on occasion.

Orogs also use their greater intellect to create some level of industry, making stark, often grimly decorated fortifications in which they house barracks, forges, fungal farms, and mines. The need to run these complex operations also makes orogs interested in gaining labourers to directly support their war efforts. As such, unlike orcs, orogs commonly do take captives on their raids, using them as slave labour to gather resources and assist in the manufacture of yet more weapons and supplies to feed the orog army.

As well as lacking industry, another reason orcs typically don’t take prisoners or slaves like orogs is because encouraging an orc to engage in guard duty rarely speaks to their desires. Orcs fight and pillage because it exhilarates them and feeds into their emotional passions, specifically their senses of excitement, superiority, and rage. However, an orc can be passionate about many things alongside violence. An orc can love a battle sister just as strongly as they hate a rival, and a foe that gives them a good fight can almost be as good as a friend in an orc’s eyes. On rare occasions an orc’s propensity for high emotions can even lead them to be passionate about things beyond Gruumsh’s call to destruction, granting them escape from evil’s clutches. Few orcs, however, can find themselves interested in sitting around, watching some prisoner they know they are mightier than for any longer than it takes for them to tire of wallowing in their initial victory.

Orogs, on the other hand, are in fact highly dispassionate. Compared to the vibrant bonfire which is an orc’s capacity for emotions, an orog’s emotional spirit is naught but a pile of cold ash, with only glimmers of embers within them. Without an incredible amount of emotional coaxing, orogs have only two emotions that guide them: a respect for strength and a hatred for all things, including each other, orogs only gathering together out of an understanding that there is strength in numbers.

Orogs don’t even truly love the Gruumsh, Luthic, and the rest of the orc deities, only worshipping them because they understand goddesses to be greatly superior to them in strength. If presented with a more immediate beacon of power and destruction, willing to let them continue to express their hatred in their name, such as an evil spellcaster, a chromatic dragon, or a demonic powerhouse, orogs can quickly defect to serve them.

In return for this unreliability, Gruumsh does not much care for orogs as a whole. While the goddess does begrudgingly admit that orc hordes are stronger for the orogs’ existence, which is why she permits them to persist, she considers their lack of internal fire and fervency to be a perversion of all an orc should be. As a result, Gruumsh offers far fewer orogs positions as Eyes of Gruumsh, and orogs are generally more reliant on martial might than divine favour overall.

Sex and Sexuality Among Orogs

The main difference between orc and orog mating practices is the sheer lack of passion that orogs have in reproduction. While orogs do feel sexual pleasure and can be motivated by it, their reasons for breeding in such great numbers are fundamentally different from why orcs do so. For orcs, breeding is a matter of pride and divine right; a powerful orc has many wives because she has proven her bloodline worthy of having the largest presence in the next generation. Multiply and expand into great hordes is one of Gruumsh’s most fundamental tenets, and orcs follow it with fanaticism, their passion for following Gruumsh’s commands making them protective over their sow’s wellbeing and fidelity and proud, sometimes to the point of lovingness, of their children.

Orogs, on the other hand, despite being the creations of a fertility goddess, have their reasoning to breed so aggressively boil down to a matter of pure calculation. Reproduction increases the size of an orog tribe; a bigger tribe can survive more powerful foes and wreak more destruction. Therefore, breeding is worth the inconvenience of pregnancy and childrearing, especially if those tasks can be forced onto the weakest, least combatively useful members of the tribe. Orog mating structures are, therefore, outwardly similar to orcs. The strongest orogs make sows out of the weakest, while those in the middle must bide their time and prove themselves in order to win mating rights. However, the relationships holding these structures together are very different. Orog sows are not protected by their mistresses but beholden to their strength, their loyalty enforced under pain of death. Children are seen merely as tools, reaching adulthood at about the same young age as orcs and being both drilled in combat and forced to labour in mines and mushroom fields like slaves long before that. An orc war chief would likely call for bloody revenge at the death of even one of her daughters in an attack; an orog chief would sacrifice a whole phalanx of her own daughters in order to gain a military advantage without batting an eye, confident that she can always make more.

Like orcs, orogs can interbreed with a vast number of beings and creatures. However, orogs generally put less stock in most such hybrid races and thus only tend to breed like this when there are no other orogs available. The offspring of an orog and an orc tend to most strongly resemble the latter in physiology and mindset, possibly as a result of Gruumsh favouring her own creations. With orogs being naturally cunning as they are, half-orogs made with other humanoids have few benefits over their pure-blooded kin besides sun resistance. As a result of all this perceived superiority, orogs seldom bother to breed with other races. If an orog rapes a slave or other captive, it is usually out of sexual frustration or to enjoy the distress their action causes their victim. Only the prospect of incredibly powerful offspring, such as half-dragons or demon-blooded orogs, tends to interest orogs all that much.

Men to Orogs

It seems that, even compared to orcs, orogs only have men born to them very rarely. Since male orcs are supposedly gifted by Luthic, this discrepancy is thought by many orcs to be her way of showing favour to her mate’s creations despite having created the orogs herself. Thanks to this, most males an orog is likely to encounter will not be of her own kind. Generally, with the exception of male creatures of obvious power, such as a male dragon or greater demon, orogs consider most men to be a poison to their bloodlines, creatures of inherent weakness who are driven to breed their inferiority into orogs by any underhanded means necessary.

With this belief in mind, orogs generally do not tolerate a man’s presence for an instant longer than they can help it, their minds verging on the closest thing to fear as they can ordinarily manage. Orogs faced with a man generally build their tactics around having him killed as quickly as possible, sometimes even to the point of making a tactical blunder against his forces or going after him instead of a more pertinently threatening enemy, though such errors are still not the rule against them.

Ultimately, however, orogs believe first and foremost in power. Therefore, a man who manages to overwhelm an orog and fuck her despite her efforts to resist may persuade her that he is powerful enough to be obeyed and bred by, causing her to become unusually obedient to him. This has led some men of the Underdark to attain orogs as concubines, bodyguards, and soldiers. Care should be taken with such relationships, however, for, with very few exceptions, no amount of fucking is going to keep an orog from being pragmatic, violent, and cruel, and not even a man can fully rein in their destructive impulses, especially in large harems.

Chapter 212: Otyugh

Most beings who can trace their origins back to the Far Realm, aberrations as they are generally called, are known for the strangeness of their forms, their advanced alien intellects, and the unknowability of their schemes. Otyughs have one of those features. It appears that, wherever they first appeared, the first otyughs slipped right out of unreality and into the filthiest, most disgusting places reality has to offer. Often found buried in offal and waste, many will simply see an otyugh as a trio of tentacles, one with eyes to sense their environment and two more barbed for manipulation and assault. Below, however, is a strong and powerful body with three strong legs and a jagged, filth-ridden maw. Still, for its basal life, an otyugh has a handful of more sinister mysteries that accompany it.

Filth Wallowers

Like many creatures, an otyugh’s first concern is with food. With a reasonable turn of speed with her odd arrangement of legs and formidable weaponry in the form of her powerful jaws and spiked tentacles, an otyugh could make a passably capable predator. Most, however, seem, by inexplicable preference, to go after what most creatures would take pains to avoid even touching. From putrefying flesh to decaying plant matter and even waste, an otyugh’s preference is broad, generally covering anything that rots, reeks, and carries disease. In the wild, otyughs prefer dark, damp places, though they can adapt to bright conditions if there is enough detritus to tempt them. Common habitats include sheltered swamps, backwater ponds, and underground sludge pits.

However, most otyughs end up drawn to the leavings of civilisation, leading them to immerse themselves in sewer tunnels, trash middens, and mass graves. Otyughs would be an unpleasant but ultimately manageable creature, possibly even a useful one, if they simply sat around eating waste. Unfortunately, while otyughs are primarily concerned with consumption, few are opposed to expanding their waste heaps with new corpses. As such, most otyughs will try their metaphorical hands at predation when the chance occurs. An otyugh will lash out its tentacles at any reasonably sized creatures that get close to its midden, making it a decent ambush predator of most things, but, unfortunately, otyughs are unusually gifted at predating upon intelligent life.

Despite their bestial appearance and low, disgusting rung in most environments, otyughs do possess some aberrant intelligence. While they are by no means intricate schemers like mind flayers or aboleths, an otyugh is smarter than any creature of its lifestyle has any right to be, even possessing a recognisable, blubbering language, used on the rare occasions multiple otyughs can tolerate one another’s presence, normally facilitated by a truly obscene quantity of detritus.

On top of this basic intellect, otyughs also have a simplified form of telepathy. While this does not facilitate direct back-and-forth communication, otyughs can transmit simple images or messages out to any intelligent being that gets close enough. These telepathic communications often resemble calls for help, allusions to great riches, or anything else the otyugh has learnt draws people towards her pit. As prey gets within reach of its spot, hidden buried in garbage, the otyugh strikes. With incredible reach and flexibility to complement their power, an otyugh’s barbed tentacles not only batter and pierce prey but also hold them, keeping them from getting away as the otyugh slams them against hard objects and each other. Otherwise, these tentacles may simply draw the prey towards her powerful jaws. Even if a bite from an otyugh is initially survived, their foul feeding habits normally mean an otyugh’s mouth teems with foul diseases, any one of which may debilitate a survivor.

Cooperative Waste Eaters

For all their power and strange capabilities, most otyughs genuinely have no desires beyond simply gorging themselves on filth. As such, if a creature is willing and able to keep up with this demand, the otyugh is usually smart enough to not immediately bite the hand that feeds them, making them somewhat tame. Some creatures, particularly those native to the underground reaches, otyughs prefer like drow and duergar, learn to make use of otyughs as living waste disposals, casting all of the waste and debris they produce down into the monster’s pit and vastly improving sanitation in the process. An otyugh also provides an extra degree of security to fortresses, prisons, and walled cities. For many, sewers are an unpleasant but necessary aspect for their structure and the health of those inside, but they also pose a route for covert entry or escape. By allowing an otyugh to inhabit one’s sewers, it presents a formidable threat to any intruder seeking to navigate them.

Of course, keeping an otyugh is not a risk-free proposition, and there is always a danger that a would-be keeper will severely underestimate how much detritus it takes to keep an otyugh in one place and compliant. While otyughs are not actively malicious, it cannot be stated just how unmotivated an otyugh is by anything beyond her next meal. Ideas like trust and friendship are completely alien to an otyugh, and even threats rarely keep one in line for long. There have been many who believed themselves to be an otyugh’s ally or mistress only for the creature to find the quantity of slop delivered to her domain insufficient and begin to wander, assaulting and devouring any whom she stumbled into.

Some alliances between otyughs and other beings are not quite so pragmatically dismissive. With the telepathic nature of an otyugh’s lure, it can feel to the unaware like the whispers of some corner of their subconscious or omens from some strange being, possibly even a goddess. If a suggestible or disturbed enough individual follows the telepathic beacon to the otyugh’s lair and manages to escape, they may believe they’ve found the home of some deific figure. An otyugh’s messages are rarely clear-cut in their meaning, simply trying to be alluring or fascinating enough to have a being step into her grasp, but eventually, with enough reading into the nonsense calls, a soul of a certain level of disturbance or desperation may find within its calls justifications for horrendous acts or the credo for a cult, praying, warring in the name of, or even making living sacrifices to a creature that, in all honesty, would likely be just as happy with several buckets of offal and raw sewage.

Sex and Sexuality Among Otyughs

Given their general nature, the sexual habits of otyughs are an understandably unresearched topic in monstrous studies. However, there are a few notable quirks of otyugh breeding that make them more notable than one may consider. Many features of the otyugh, from their strange biology and psychic capabilities to their unfathomable minds, make it very probable that otyughs are aberrations, creatures descended from outside of reality that somehow entered existence through the Far Realm. Most sages thus imagine that, like most beings made outside of Nymphona’s creation, otyughs were originally, somehow, genderless, with femininity imprinted upon them as they first entered reality.

Despite this, otyughs seem to have adapted to sexuality well enough, even incorporating it into their reproduction. What exactly encourages it is somewhat of a mystery, but every few years, adult otyughs the world over simultaneously seem to receive an urge to mate. Rising from their pools, the otyughs leave their domain on a synchronised migration that takes them deep underground to seemingly random, empty caverns. Whether it be by their telepathic signals, calls inaudible to human ears, or some other means, otyughs find each other down in the dark.

Though the act of mating has only been seen by a few individuals, it can fairly safely be said that otyughs have little to no concept of romance or mutual affection. Sex generally consists of two otyughs awkwardly lining up their vaginas, located just in front of their central third legs, and then going their separate ways. Otyughs are similarly disinterested in childcare; shortly after mating, an otyugh gives birth to a strange gelatinous mass thought to functionally work as an egg. Once this mass is produced, the Otyugh leaves it, migrating back to her slop pit, or going out in search of a new one.

An otyugh egg mass smells oddly metallic, thought by some to be a defence against the mother eating it, and crawls with disease. As such, most things leave this mass alone as it slowly morphs into a juvenile otyugh. About four weeks after being birthed, the mass of jelly has entirely congealed into a miniature otyugh that seems to suddenly come to life, wandering off in search of its first meal. Assuming it survives long enough, a juvenile otyugh reaches adult size in a little over two years of birth.

Men to Otyughs

As noted, otyughs are a completely alien, aberrant species, fundamentally disconnected from the gendered nature of life in our world. While existing in Nymphona’s reality forces an otyugh to have a gender, it is naturally divorced from the nature of the gender binary, thus causing all otyughs to be female with no capability to “acquire” masculinity from native men, as, for instance, mind flayers can by ceromorphising one. While many aberrations respond to the strong separation between them and men with fascination or loathing, an otyugh generally doesn’t have such a passionate response to men.

Otyughs, for the most part, cannot be motivated to care about anything except for food and thus do not fret much over men, positively or negatively. Of course, most men are, at least in theory, edible, and an otyugh will be no less motivated to eat a man as a woman. Some men who have been lured by an otyugh’s psychic call have reported the messages as being promissory of sexual favours and experiences, suggesting that otyughs do fundamentally understand the mental quirks most men have in common and that this knowledge does alter her interest in them beyond encouraging her to refine her methods of predating on them when she knows a man is around.

Mirroring the otyugh’s sexual disinterest in men, most men are largely disinterested in fucking otyughs. Usually, this disinterest comes largely from their particularly unpleasant habits and general uncleanliness. Physiologically, an otyugh’s body is strange, a little inconvenient given her back leg’s position relative to her pussy, but not all that repulsive to most men. Though few dwell too long on it, many men, if pushed, would agree that they wouldn’t mind fucking a somehow clean otyugh. Those men that don’t mind the otyugh’s filth-wallowing tendencies are generally of strange, though not necessarily villainous, proclivities already.

Chapter 213: Owlbear

Among monsters, hybrids of terrestrial beasts and large birds are by no means uncommon trends; one need only look to griffons, hippogriffs, and pegasi for more majestic examples. Among these hybrid creatures is, however, one that inspires less awe and more terror. A wingless hulk of fur and feathers, the owlbear is exactly what it sounds like: an owl’s head on a bear’s mighty body. In terms of personality, an owlbear combines the worst aspects of its parts: a bear’s confidence in its bulk and relentless appetite and an owl’s tendency to lash out at what gets too close and hyper-carnivorous edge. As night comes, the owlbear stalks its forest home for prey, its screeches freezing the blood.

Nocturnal Hunters

Perhaps due to having an owl’s flesh-ripping beak instead of a bear’s versatile jaws, owlbears are far more carnivorous than regular bears, being dedicated predators rather than opportunists. With a combination of a bear’s keen sense of smell and an owl’s eyes, functional even in pitch darkness, owlbears function perfectly well in the dark of the night and prefer to hunt in darkness, when their prey is disadvantaged. Beyond their sensory talents, owlbears have only a few specific tricks to taking down prey, for the most part just using their beak and claws, backed by bearlike strength, much like any lumbering, solitary predator.

While an owlbear can sometimes ambush prey, this is not a common tactic. Instead, owlbears rely on their ability to navigate their preferred forest home with greater speed and confidence than their usual prey. An owlbear simply tramples over most undergrowth without a second thought and can weave between trees with surprising agility for its bulk. The only flaw an owlbear has in navigating their environment is that they do not climb quite as well as many true bears do; as such, an owlbear may leave arboreal targets alone.

Adding to their unstealthy hunting methods, owlbears are known to let out an ear-splitting screech every so often while hunting. The exact reason for this is debated. Some suggest that an owlbear’s cries are territorial, intended to keep other owlbears out of their patch of forest, seeing as owlbears seldom cooperate, only tolerating close relatives when prey is abundant. Others suggest the cries are intended to strike terror into prey, causing them to bolt from cover or else reveal themselves in panic.

When it comes to prey, owlbears are not fussy, willing to pounce on creatures of any shape and size. While owlbears are well known for being more willing to hunt humanoid prey than many more natural beasts, who tend to do so only when desperate or influenced somehow, they do not, in fact, go after people with a preference, just as happily preying on any other living creature. Owlbears will even target their fellow carnivores. When an owlbear makes a kill, it will usually drag a portion of what it caught back to its lair, typically a cave or abandoned ruin where it sleeps through the day. This not only lets the owlbear eat its kills at its leisure but can also draw in would-be scavengers, yet more prey for the owlbear.

An owlbear’s aggression can sometimes even discard matters of relative power. While an owlbear typically preys on creatures its size or smaller, it is fearsome enough that even titanic top predators like dragons hesitate before provoking one. While an adult dragon could likely kill an owlbear with relatively little threat to their life, a hungry or enraged owlbear fights with such ferocity that few creatures can escape a battle with it unscathed.

Hybrid Mystery

Like many widespread monsters integrated deeply enough into the natural world to essentially be part of it, where exactly owlbears came from is a matter of some debate. Many assume that a creature of such aggression, clearly a combination of two desperate animals, cannot be natural and that, as is theorised for a number of similar monsters, the owlbear is the consequence of some magical experimentation by a mage of few scruples in days long passed, be it by transmutative mutation or somehow breeding owls and bears together and creating a viable combination by magical aid.

What would possess any learnt individual to create a creature of an owlbear’s temperament can only be guessed at. Many thus chalk the act up to madness or error. Of course, the more pragmatically minded also suggest that an owlbear’s ferocity may have been an intentional part of its creation. After all, an owlbear, properly directed, can make a formidable war beast or guardian. Of course, for most individuals, a properly directed owlbear is a laughable impossibility. Owlbears are notoriously aggressive, foul-tempered, and solitary, yet there have been some that find a use for them. Some peoples, comfortable living just out of an owlbear’s reach, such as tree-dwelling elves or goblins, encourage owlbears to lair beneath them, the monster proving a formidable threat to any enemy that would approach them by ground. Some beings go a step beyond cohabitation, looking to tame an owlbear companion.

A few, often legendary, individuals have found themselves able to calm an adult owlbear’s savage heart and somehow form a friendship with one or else have managed to match its brutality with their own and claim dominion over it. Most of the time, however, adult owlbears respond poorly to attempts to befriend or dominate them, making the creature uncontrollable and forcing those that would tame it to either put the creature down or die by its claws. Owlbear cubs, like many young creatures, are a little more suggestible and can thus be more easily raised to be tame in adulthood. Of course, separating a juvenile owlbear from its highly protective mother is no easy feat, but it is the most promising route for those such as hobgoblin armies and orc hordes looking for war beasts and giants or dragons looking for an aggressive pet.

Some claim that there still exist wizards that know the formula to create owlbears just as the first ones were made. This rumour is not widely substantiated and is refuted by some, particularly those that believe that, for all its fury and strangeness, owlbears are not artificial at all. Many who live in contact with nature, such as elves and druids, consider owlbears to be natural creatures, some even managing to establish relationships with them through primaeval magic, leading to some owlbears being among the most potent guardians the wilderness has. Many stories by these groups trace the owlbear’s origins not to an arcanist’s lab but into the Feywild, where nature and legend are at their most vibrant, allowing the forces of primal ferocity to manifest in their purest form, as the first of the owlbears.

Sex and Sexuality Among Owlbears

For their seeming unnaturalness, the mating habits of owlbears are fairly straightforward, a strange combination of the habits of both their constituent parts. Generally, an adult owlbear becomes receptive to impregnation roughly once every two to four years, in a period of oestrus in early summer signalled by a pungent musk that attracts other owlbears who are not experiencing something similar to try their luck with her. An owlbear is usually quite fussy about who she takes as a mate, for unlike bears and more like owls, a pair’s time together is not brief. The scent of an owlbear in oestrus informs others of her health and power, influencing how hard others will fight to be with her, with prime specimens encouraging more boisterous combat and drawing more powerful specimens to compete. The receptive owlbear will normally wait a few weeks to determine the best mate she can get before selecting her victor.

Soon after mating, the impregnated owlbear will lay large eggs, anywhere from one to eight of them, over the course of several days, in the security of her lair. Taking turns to go out hunting, the mother owlbear and her mate will keep a constant guard over her eggs for the whole period of time it takes them to hatch, generally just under two hundred days. Owlbear cubs hatch far more well-developed than either bear cubs or owl chicks, normally resembling a miniature, if disproportionately big-headed and deceptively cute, version of an adult. Regardless of their disarming appearance, owlbears are physically dangerous from birth, armed with the claws and razor-sharp beak so feared in adulthood from the start.

It may be thanks to the presence of such dangerous mouthparts that owlbears do not suckle their offspring. Instead, both parents bring back prey for their cubs to eat. At around a month or so old, the cubs are strong enough to follow the mother out of the lair, and the mother thus dismisses her mate to assume responsibility for the remaining two or so years of childcare herself. Unless prey is plentiful enough to justify the mother and her cubs continuing to hunt together, young owlbears will find independence and their own territories at around two or three years of age, attaining full adult size two or three years later.

Men to Owlbears

In most situations, an owlbear’s perception of other creatures is fairly simple; if something is bigger than her, it is a threat to be warded off or avoided; if it’s another owlbear, it is a rival to be chased out of her territory; otherwise, it is prey. In most cases, gender does not come into consideration. The one exception to this is when an owlbear comes into oestrus and she begins to recognise that male creatures all bear the ability to knock her up. Owlbear oestrus is fairly easy to tell from the strong, though not necessarily unpleasant, odour a receptive owlbear produces. Still, a man should not expect fucking an owlbear to be easy in any event.

Instinctively, owlbears seek powerful mates. In males, the knowledge that he will likely abandon her after getting her pregnant makes the need for power even greater. Thanks to this, female owlbears are most receptive to males of similar or even greater size to themselves, such as giants, dragons, and fellow monstrosities like manticores and griffons. In an owlbear’s eyes, a humanoid’s comparatively small size suggests weakness, so without significant proof to the counter, a man may serve her better as food than the father of her cubs.

To avoid becoming a receptive owlbear’s lunch, a man must prove his strength to her. This can include fighting off other owlbears looking to breed her, who will be particularly aggressive to any man at that time, seeing him as competition for breeding. With the scale of misgivings a receptive owlbear may have for a little humanoid man, he may even have to overcome her in combat to prove his power. Some men have historically even been able to persuade owlbears to mate with them out of oestrus through combat, though the nature of the reports makes it hard to tell if this is true persuasion or simply a man clobbering an owlbear to the point she cannot resist him.

Most of the time, owlbears become somewhat ambivalent to men after letting him fuck her, tolerating his presence as she would an ordinary mate’s but not being particularly obedient to him. Sometimes, however, an owlbear may become seemingly fond of a man that fucks her, even showing loyalty akin to an owlbear raised from a cub to him. Some believe that this occasional response may be a simple tactic to get a man invested in helping to protect and provide for her offspring by making herself into an invaluable ally in combat that he simply cannot leave behind. Some men, however, believe that this bond is forged when sex connects an owlbear and man’s kindred nature to one another, creating a wild, lifelong friendship.

Every so often, among a clutch of owlbear eggs, one may hatch out male. A male owlbear is just as aggressive and ill-tempered as any female, but a large portion of this aggression is sexual. As a rule of thumb, male owlbears tend to hunt anything that tries to flee them, such as small scavengers and most herbivores, and breed with any creature that tries to fight back, including most large predators, monsters, and female owlbears. This sexual draw to those that resist them also means that female adventurers who severely overestimate themselves in a fight against a male owlbear often end up impregnated rather than slain. Humanoids with owlbear paternity tend to be somewhat larger than average for their kind, with traits like patches of feathers or fur, avian eyes, and clawed nails not being uncommon.

Chapter 214: Pegasus

Rarely glimpsed, and even then, only in passing, pegasi are, physically, horses with wide avian wings, normally white in fur and feathers. Yet, while accurate, this description utterly fails to encapsulate the scale of wonder that emanates from a pegasus in flight. To see one soar on by is an omen of peace and hope; to see the commander of an army or an adventurer astride one’s back is to have confirmed that theirs is the side of honour and benevolence, for a pegasus accepts no rider but those most given to the side of good and does not make such bonds frivolously.

Heavenly Horses

As may be noted, there is no shortage of creatures that resemble mundane beasts grafted with avian features. Griffons, hippogriffs, and perytons are common examples. Most agree that these monsters owe their origins to the fickle whims of magic, either through random quirk or by its irresponsible application by long-dead mages. One who hears of a pegasus or sees a mortal attempt to capture their likeness may be compelled to assume that they owe their origins to something similar. This could not be further from the truth, as anyone who has met a pegasus in person could tell you. A pegasus is no accident of nature or spawn of an unhinged creator. Pegasi are instead the living exaltation of the Upper Planes, concepts such as passion, kindness, and joy made manifest in living, equine bodies.

Pegasi can be found in certain parts of every good-aligned plane, being generally happy in the presence of any moral beings and being loved by most such beings in return. However, the form of good that most pegasi embody usually exemplifies the inherent need for freedom, both physical and emotional. While not even the most lawful upper planes, such as Arcadia and Mount Celestia, would dream of imprisoning a pegasus, this draw to freedom makes pegasi usually more at home on planes where good takes on a slightly more chaotic spin, such as the wilds of the Beastlands, the adventurous realms of Ysgard, and Arborea, thought by many to be the pegasi’s original home.

Known for its wide-open spaces and dramatically beautiful environs, Arborea is a realm of intense passions and varied emotions. It is also the home of many elven deities and the elven afterlife of Arvandor. Elven goddesses have long had pegasus allies and steeds. The elven pantheon, along with other good, freedom-loving deities, has even been known to send pegasi to the aid of mortal heroes either to lead them on their adventures or to carry them to safety in moments of dire need. This connection to Arborea also seems to inform the preferred environments of most pegasi: high mountains, verdant plant life, clean waters in lakes or streams, and often a nearby elven community.

Despite their celestial origins, some pegasi lineages have left the inherently benevolent realms of the Upper Planes to live in places of more neutral or varied moral standing, namely the Elemental Plane of Air, the Feywild, and the Material Plane. While there are certainly many who respect and adore pegasi in these places, there are certainly things that make these realms less pleasant than the planes of inherent goodness from which pegasi originate. Creatures such as manticores, chimaeras, and chromatic dragons may try to prey on pegasi from time to time. Meanwhile, agents of the Lower Planes see the capture of a pegasus as a grand prize indeed, for fiends will pay handsomely for the chance to exercise their cruel rituals upon a celestial being.

With high levels of alertness and stunning aerial speed, pegasi generally avoid such unpleasant fates handily. However, one must still wonder why any pegasus would take the risk at all, why they would leave realms where predation and fiendish capture were all but impossible. There are multiple theories. Some call to mind the naturally freedom-loving nature of pegasi, that to deny themselves a whole realm because of danger would be their very nature. More practically, some believe the Inner Plane dwelling Pegasi serve as sentries for various beings of good, risking their safety to keep tabs on the forces of evil and help direct more potent forces of good. More philosophically, removing celestial beings from morally neutral planes could effectively cede these places to the fiends. Thus, by maintaining their presence, pegasi encourage mortals along the path of good and steer them clear of damnation.

Benevolent Steeds

Along with sturdy, equine bodies, pegasi have a great number of traits that make them arguably the most enviable of mounts. In the air, a pegasus can glide at a leisurely pace or streak across the sky like a bolt of white lightning. At top speed, virtually nothing can catch a pegasus in flight. In addition, pegasi tend not to be nearly as easily spooked as normal horses, able to hold their nerve in most situations. Pegasi are also smarter than many would-be mounts, able to comprehend words and commands in many languages. Of course, this very intelligence serves as a crux of difficulty in attaining a pegasus of one’s own.

Though pegasi do not speak in the way many creatures would understand, they are generally about as intelligent as any humanoid. As such, a pegasus simply cannot be broken or tamed in the way one would domesticate a simple beast. In order to attain a pegasus as one’s steed, one must persuade the pegasus to cooperate, and before one can do that, one must first get close enough to communicate. Pegasi, particularly those outside of celestial realms, are wary creatures, always on the alert for danger. If someone gets too close to a pegasus without allaying her concerns, she can take off in an instant, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Even if one does get a pegasus to stick around to hear them out, one must still convince her to let them on her back.

In short-term circumstances, such as getting a pegasus to transport one out of the path of danger or asking for help getting somewhere, a pegasus usually needs only be convinced that the favour being asked is an outright benevolent one. Meanwhile, a pegasus will outright refuse and likely flee anyone trying to sway her to villainy, and acts that a pegasus cannot see the moral upshot of, such as those that are self-serving or frivolous in her eyes, are unlikely to encourage her assistance either. Though, if the act doesn’t seem like it’s going to harm any innocent people, one may convince a pegasus to help a little in exchange for an act of kindness or generosity to the world at large.

Long-term collaboration is a harder goal to draw a pegasus into. Naturally independent creatures, the amount of good such a working relationship must promise is usually particularly large. Pegasi can, with a glance, tell the moral intent of nearly any mortal. Only the most deceptive can mask evil from a pegasus, and none can feign good intentions convincingly. While a pegasus is usually willing to show kindness to any who are not agents of evil, true alliances can only be forged by those who intend to perform deeds of genuine, world-improving heroism or have the requisite nature within themselves that makes the pegasus confident that given the opportunity, they will put everything they have into making the world a better place.

Once such a bond is established, however, it is exceedingly difficult to break. A pegasus often becomes her rider’s closest confidant and ally in battle, the two sharing an understanding that goes beyond mere words, operating with a unity that horse riders could only hope for. Not only does the pegasus offer her rider transport and assistance in battle, but she also lifts their spirits in times of heartbreak and offers clarity when doubt sets in. Such a bond between a hero and their pegasus companion is for life; only the improbable event of such a paragon falling to evil can cause their pegasus to leave them.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pegasi

Despite their celestial heritage, pegasi are creatures of finite lifespans; though living in realms most beings consider to be afterlives, they do not see death the same way most mortals do. After a few hundred years, a pegasus passes on, her spirit rejoining the essence of the Upper Planes to take on new life, perhaps as another pegasus, perhaps as something else. In any case, with the exception of a few pegasi of particular note, namely those who serve as steeds for particular goddesses, all pegasi must pass on eventually, and, as such, pegasi must reproduce in order to remain an existent race.

Though they resemble horses, the intelligence of pegasi generally means that their reproductive rituals are far more complicated. Pegasi seek out mates in the same way most intelligent, good-natured beings do, by finding a member of their kind that they feel a growing affection for and spending time in one another’s company until that bond of mutual affection becomes unbreakable love. Pegasi pair up for life and will only mate with their chosen lover.

When a pair of pegasi wish to have foals, they first of all seek out a relatively safe location, typically a high plateau or secluded forest glade, preferably watched over by trusted allies such as elven warriors, metallic dragons, or other celestial beings. Though the method of building their relationships is relatively complex, the actual sex and pregnancy of a pegasus is rather horse-like, with a pregnancy generally lasting about a year and the offspring nursing for about two years and becoming mostly independent after about five. During this time, pegasus foals grow quickly, walking minutes after birth, flying in days, and then steadily learning about the world and their place in it from their parents for the remainder of their development.

Men to Pegasi

Some assume that the combination of a man’s inherent lustfulness and a pegasus’ caution would naturally make them a bad fit for one another, that in all but the most extraordinary situations, a pegasus would automatically flee a man out of fear that his desires would turn rapacious towards her. However, sexuality and morality are two very separate matters, as pegasi know well, and being talented at intuiting the moral compass of anyone by sight, sexual interest alone is not enough to dissuade a pegasus from allowing a man to approach her.

That being said, most pegasi are not interested in sex for its own sake or for the sake of pleasure. Pegasi generally fuck for one of two reasons, either to express love for one’s partner or else to produce a foal. In either case, pegasi thus prefer only to have sex with specific individuals and, while not judgemental of it, are generally not interested in participating in the sort of casual sex men generally engage in. A man self-centred enough to try and insist on fucking a pegasus after being denied is likely to have her abandon him.

The sort of relationship that makes a pegasus interested in letting a man fuck her is normally one as close and affectionate as one needed to encourage her to become his steed. Indeed, in most cases, one can assume that a man with a pegasus companion has also earned her sexual affection. With the man being both her mate and her ally in heroism, a pegasus must be both wooed and convinced of his genuine heroic goals before she gives her assent to be with him. Like any pairing between a pegasus and a mortal, the bond between a pegasus and a man she has accepted is an undying alliance of good that will last the man’s entire existence.

Being creatures descended from the will of the Upper Planes and their deities, with no mortal souls channelled into the process, all pegasi known are female and cannot birth male pegasi. Some stories claim that horses of unusual moral awareness and goodness, or who were closely bound in affection for a heroic mortal, can be reborn in the Upper Planes as a pegasus. If this is true, then a stallion who met such conditions could hypothetically be reborn as a male pegasus. However, there is no proof that this form of accent happens, and, if it does, there have been no recorded incidents of a stallion’s soul making such a journey. How a male pegasus would behave can only be speculated at, but it would presumably be as morally upright as any other male celestial and would possibly create a line of more equine aasimar.

Chapter 215: Peryton

At first glance, a peryton largely resembles an oversized bird of prey with the head of a deer. However, at closer inspection, the preyton has a multitude of strange inconsistencies for what at first looks like yet another classic hybrid of two beasts. The antlers of a peryton are not shed, being far denser and rooted with a semi-metallic structure that keeps them solid and sharp through the monster’s life. A peryton’s teeth are also not the blunt instruments found in a deer’s mouth, more akin to the fangs of a wolf, suiting its carnivorous diet. Within a peryton’s keen eyes smoulders a spark of devious intellect approaching humanoid intelligence. Most curious of all, however, is a peryton’s shadow, which, in defiance of its monstrous form, seems to be that of a normal humanoid, perhaps even human.

Cruel Hunters

Despite their cervine heads, perytons are, for the most part, predators, as hinted by their carnivorous fangs. While a peryton can live on vegetation in times of desperation, it much prefers to hunt down other creatures as prey. Just as often hunting alone as in pairs or small flocks, preytons will generally pursue any prey they think they can overwhelm, from rabbits and deer all the way up to elk and horses. What catches the attention of most, however, is the ruthless cruelty perytons hunt with.

Generally preferring open terrain, perytons spot potential prey from high above with their exceptional eyesight, though, closer to the ground, they can also sniff smaller prey out of their hiding places. Once prey is spotted, the peryton dives onto it, piercing with its antlers or talons. If the strike does not kill the prey outright, the peryton will retreat and repeat the process; how swiftly this process is repeated varies based on how recently the peryton has fed. A hungry peryton will normally subject her prey to a rapid series of attacks, tearing it apart over the course of minutes. More often, however, a peryton takes her time, letting her wounded prey flee and following from above, settling on trees and clifftops, only to strike again as panic starts to diminish, harrying her victim for hours or even days for seemingly no reason beyond entertainment.

Adding to the suspected cruelty of a peryton’s heart is their kind’s preferred prey: humanoids, particularly humans and elves. In some ways, this preference may be an aspect of necessity from their strange and abhorrent mating practices. However, even when a peryton is single or already caring for a clutch of offspring, they still seem to be drawn to hunt humanoids, seeming to prefer murder to simple hunting. More than simple monsters instinctively drawn to kill humanoid prey, perytons are relatively intelligent, at the very least able to understand that their victims are likewise intelligent and capable of having personal dreams, desires, and communications. Perytons are sometimes known to use this understanding to bait traps for people, taking treasure or hostages back to their nests to draw people to come for them.

Though it is rare to witness it as their prey, most perytons seem to have a fluent understanding of the languages most frequently spoken by people around their territory. Some beings who live lives of violence, such as goblins, orcs, and hobgoblins, can sometimes persuade perytons not to hunt them but to fight alongside them as war beasts and flying mounts, offering the corpses of their enemies as payment for these services. Such alliances are often shaky, however; perytons have little in the way of loyalty and will turn and devour any humanoid companion they sense weakness in.

Feeding their preference, perytons have a strange benefit in the fight against most humanoids. Despite having what looks like a rather lightweight avian body, peryton flesh is magically enhanced, making it hard as boiled leather when struck by any natural force. While this does not make perytons invulnerable by any means, their durability is much greater than an inspection of their anatomy would suggest. Even if one can get a clean hit on a peryton given her propensity to weave in and out of her foe’s reach, most mundane swords leave only superficial wounds on her hide, and most arrows penetrate so shallowly that a simple flap of the peryton’s wings may dislodge them. This magical resilience, however, falls apart under the force of a magical assault, be it enchanted weapons or offensive spells. Knowing this vulnerability, Perytons actively despise spellcasters and, if facing a band of humanoid foes, will soar straight over the front lines in order to tear into whichever member of the group most resembles a priestess or a mage.

Curse of Hatred

With all the strange additional parts of a peryton, including its hybrid appearance, unusual intelligence, magical resilience, and most strangely, its shadow, most agree that there is no way that perytons can be naturally occurring creatures. The exact origins of the peryton have been lost to time, but many speculate.

Many scholars, witnessing the intelligence and the shadows of perytons, theorise that perytons were once humanoid. How exactly the transformation from person to bloodthirsty monster took place is unknown, but many speculate that it was a polymorphic spell gone awry or a curse powerful enough to echo for generations cast by a mage of either incredible cruelty or frightening ineptitude. Some, however, have more poetic origins for the monsters.

One particularly widespread piece of folklore describes a woman who sought to find a man to adore and breed her. So obsessed was she by this goal that when a man came to her village but did not notice her, she is said to have lost her mind. In a fit of rage, the woman snuck into the man’s lodgings and slew one of his closest companions, a woman whom he had loved and adventured with for many years.

In a ritual of old and forgotten magic, the murderous woman ate the companion’s still-beating heart, attempting to bind all the adoration the man had for the dead woman to her murderer. For a time, the magic worked, holding the man under the woman’s spell. However, as time passed and his love and sexual attention remained purely focused upon her, others became suspicious, and eventually, her crime was uncovered.

It is said that the woman was executed for her murder and compulsive rituals, but before she could be buried or otherwise disposed of, a flock of crows, vultures, and other carrion birds descended upon her remains. In moments, not a scrap of the woman’s body remained, but her enmity lingered, transforming each bird into a living vessel of her hatred, a peryton.

Sex and Sexuality Among Perytons

Among the many horrific traits that perytons are known for, their reproductive habits are perhaps the most well-known. To begin with, breeding between perytons is fairly typical for monstrosities. Having no particular mating season, perytons tend to nest together with a potential mate, a peryton she will breed with given opportunity, normally being the strongest peryton she can impress into partnering with her through displays of power such as gifts of living prey and successful antler jousts against rivals. Once a mate is found, the peryton builds a nest on a high cliffside or the like, and the process takes a turn for the macabre.

Most of the time, as far as female-on-female sex is concerned, perytons are usually completely infertile. However, there is one thing that, for a brief period, makes a peryton capable of getting pregnant by another of her kind. That thing is the consumption of a recently killed humanoid’s heart. When a person’s heart is consumed by a peryton, her humanoid shadow shifts to accurately reflect her monstrous form for but a handful of hours. During, and only during, this time another peryton that fucks her may get her pregnant. As such, more so than in their normal hunts for food or violent entertainment, a newly paired couple of perytons is driven to hunt down and kill a humanoid.

A few days after eating a heart and mating, a peryton lays anywhere from one to six eggs in her nest; these eggs develop quickly for their size and hatch into chicks after only a month. For a month after hatching, the chicks cannot fly and must be fed by their parents or else they would turn on one another. Successfully fledged chicks tend to follow their parents for another three months, assisting in hunts until they reach full size and seek independence.

Men to Perytons

According to folktales, the birds that became the first perytons inherited not only the malice and taste for hearts of the murderer they devoured but also a lasting enmity for men. According to the tale, the woman, in her final moments before execution for her crimes, blamed the man who had denied her his attention for all her misdeeds, and by extension, all men. Thus it would be that each and every peryton was inborn with a mission to slaughter every man they could find. Whether it truly is based on a primaeval, centuries-old grudge or not, it does seem to be true that perytons naturally despise men.

Male beasts are often forced to flee areas that become a peryton’s territory. While many creatures are more accepting of a role to get bred by a male beast, perytons actively hunt down and kill them, oftentimes not even devouring the animal’s flesh, instead keeping the carcass as a warning. As with their normal hunting behaviours, however, perytons will hunt male humanoids with a preference for male animals, though, like with the beasts, perytons seem uninterested in eating humanoid men, not even their hearts. Some myths say that carrion birds are strangely quick to consume the remains of men slain and left by perytons, though few speculate as to why.

Even stranger is what happens when a man manages to overcome a peryton’s wrath and fury and fucks her against her will. Even without having her eat a heart, men can always impregnate a peryton, her kind’s fertility to men seemingly only a little bit less than for other monstrosities. A peryton impregnated in this way does not lay eggs afterwards. Instead, a peryton carries her pregnancy for nine months, at the end of which, she typically gives birth to a human baby. Though there may be some variation, such as a half-elf being born in the event of an elven father or a human baby with monstrous features if the peryton gets fucked by a male monster, the general theme is that the peryton gives birth as if she were a human woman. Though such children are unlikely to survive long in the wild, children born of captive perytons have largely grown up with no unusual traits.

A peryton’s unilateral hatred of men seems to, unfortunately, extend to the males of their own kind. Investigations of nests do occasionally show signs of deceased male hatchlings. It seems that such males are swiftly killed by their mother or siblings shortly after emergence. Whether this is because of an out-of-control misandrist instinct or because male perytons have the potential to endanger the wicked race is unknown, but some scholars who believe the latter have suggested collecting Peryton eggs and hatching them until a male happens to be born in the safety of captivity. However, thanks to the literal cost in humanoid lives that comes with each clutch of eggs, most places have denied such studies in the name of such a flimsy theory.

Chapter 216: Pixie

When one imagines the fey, one often imagines a small, playful being, resembling miniature humans or elves with wings of butterflies and a glittering aura of magic about them. Though this representation may make one ill-prepared for the danger that the denizens of the Feywild can present, it is not wholly inaccurate for every variety of fey. Located but rarely seen in areas of nature and peace, such as tranquil forest glades, burbling brooks, and grassy vales, pixies may be small and prone to avoidance of strangers, but they bloom with primal magics. Wishing to avoid violence, pixies usually keep themselves unseen by most people but may show themselves to the good and pure-hearted.

A Pinch of Pixie Dust

Though less than a foot in height and lacking in physical strength, pixies make up for their lack of physical might with a range of magical capabilities. Most of the time, a pixie uses this magic for fairly mundane acts in service of nature. In spring, a pixie’s magic helps flowers to bloom and shoots to sprout; in summer she ripens fruits; in autumn her magic paints the leaves gold; and in winter she traces frost across ponds and windows. Most of this simple magic is done by second nature by pixies, and as such, by their very presence, pixies increase the vitality of their home. Farms and gardens with pixies living in them grow crops plentifully, barely ever affected by blights or pests. More wild areas overflow with natural beauty comparable to the Feywild, sometimes even to the point of creating a portal there through a ring of mushrooms or a tree hollow.

A pixie’s greater magical feats can be achieved by use of her pixie dust, a glittering, magical powder that trails from her wings in flight. With a sprinkle of her dust, a pixie can do all sorts of things; she can briefly animate plants, gift flight to a friend, transform creatures into various animals, and bring harmful magics to an end. A pixie can also use her dust to briefly affect a creature’s mind, causing them to hallucinate, fall asleep, or simply take leave of their senses and act in a completely irrational manner. A pixie rarely does this for trivial reasons, more often acting as a desperate final measure to escape a threat without hurting them, for even when directly assaulted, pixies are generally loath to cause pain to anyone, even the arguably deserving.

While only a pixie can use her dust to its maximum potential, pixie dust does remain potently magical even after removal from a pixie. A sprinkle of pixie dust by a non-pixie normally grants the recipient a brief bout of magical flight, but it can also be used in conjunction with personal magical capability to enhance spells of enchantment and mental manipulation along with other magical rituals. Sometimes, a pixie may gift a dose of her dust to somebody as a reward or a symbol of friendship, but usually she prefers to cast the desired spells for her friends directly, both for increased potency and more control over how her magic is used. Doses of pixie dust are thus usually taken from a pixie by force or at least under duress by the desperate or the villainous.

It is mostly for this reason that pixies are cautious when interacting with strangers. Small and often having skin tones of green, brown, and other colours of nature, pixies can easily go unnoticed when they want to be, not to mention their ability to vanish at will, turning invisible through a simple act of focus. Still, most pixies are haplessly curious and sociable creatures. When a person gets close, pixies often feel compelled to stay close and watch them. Even while invisible, pixies may occasionally betray their presence with faint giggles, gasps, and sighs.

Pranks and Playfulness

When spying on individuals, pixies usually want more than to simply watch. In an ideal world, pixies would have no need to hide, instead coming out to introduce themselves to every living creature that crossed their path, making friends and playmates wherever they may go. Of course, a pixie is usually wise enough to know that such a blatantly careless approach would be likely to get her attacked or captured sooner rather than later. As such, a pixie will not reveal herself until she is certain that the individual she has caught sight of is of a good nature.

A pixie can, with her innate magic, detect overt evil influences, such as fiendish presences and undeath, or peer into the surface thoughts of a passerby. However, this magical sense does not inform the pixie of more common, garden variety evil or selfishness unless the target is actively considering evil deeds when she checks. For the most part, a pixie must judge intentions by the same means a mortal may employ, with insight, observation, and personal judgement. Pixies are generally most trusting of beneficent fey, children, and beings with a close connection to nature, such as elves and forest gnomes, though a pixie will usually give anyone a chance to prove themselves.

Of course, if whoever a pixie is observing is actively up to no good, that is generally a sign that she should not seek to befriend them. A pixie who observes preparations for something particularly dastardly may even sabotage the villain’s plans, especially if it seems to threaten the environment or innocent people. If a threat is beyond a pixie’s means to non-violently avert, it may inspire her to seek out help, such as more powerful fey or even mortals of a heroic persuasion.

When somebody’s true nature is more unclear to a pixie, she may decide to draw out who they really are with some minor inconvenience. In truth, pixies have a wild and sometimes inappropriate sense of humour that makes them fond of pranks. Against known dangers, these pranks can be ruinous, stealing vital portions of their schemes, blunting an assassin’s arrowheads, or possibly even putting minor toxins in their food, enough to cause digestive distress but not enough to kill. When a person’s status is unknown or benign, a pixie normally employs more innocent practical jokes. She may tie a traveller’s bootlaces together, drop a live frog into their cleavage, or lead them astray with magical lights. By watching the victim’s reaction, the pixie not only gets some amusement but also a much more open display of their inner nature. One who rages or seeks vengeance at minor humiliations is likely not one to trust, while a pixie may approach one who remains calm or can even find humour in their own situation.

When a pixie shows herself to someone, she normally does so with the bearing of nobility, presenting herself with the grace and beauty of a princess. If pixies could be said to have one sin common to their kind, it would likely be vanity. Pixies take great pride in their natural fey beauty, often extenuating it with gowns, doublets, and other fancy clothes made of woven silks, leaves, or flower petals. Complimenting a pixie on her appearance or attire is generally a swift way to please her greatly.

Despite this apparent arrogance, most pixies have a strong desire to show kindness and to make friends wherever they go. As such, pixies will gladly invite any they choose to show themselves before to tea parties, revels, and other fey gatherings. Sometimes this can have unintentionally unpleasant consequences; the natural exuberance of the fey can quickly exhaust most mortals, and a particularly wild party may leave a pixie’s guests lost in the Feywild. Thankfully, pixies tend to look after their guests and will, eventually, help them get back home, often with a magical gift for their trouble.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pixies

Along with their fondness for games and pranks of the ordinary sort, pixies are, like many fey, highly sexual beings. As well as increasing the yield of crops and the vitality of plants, the mere presence of pixies in an area can cause animals to rut with increased frequency, causing areas to swarm with smaller wildlife and livestock to be much more productive. Some even consider pixie dust, along with its other magical properties, to be an aphrodisiac. Though this quality of pixie dust is debated even among pixies, the rumour alone is enough for certain creatures with no magical interest to make efforts to capture pixies, hoping to use them or their dust in improvised mating rituals or love potions.

Pixies not only cause sexual happenings around them by their presence, however. Pixies are also very at ease with sexual situations and wilfully cause them in the name of amusement. Along with more standard pranks, a pixie may put a more sexual twist on her games either if she thinks the victim is similarly comfortable or if they find the victim’s puritanical tendencies to be harmful or malicious. Of course, a pixie’s natural affinity for sexuality can sometimes lead them to overestimate a mortal’s comfort with sexuality or the harm a little sexual prudence can do. A pixie may prime branches to smack a passerby in the rear, weaken clasps and strings in clothes to make one’s breasts spill out, or hide an individual’s clothes when they’re getting changed.

In conversation, pixies aren’t known for their outright lewdness, but a conversation that edges even slightly towards sexual matters may cascade into rather lustful topics with ease. Pixies generally have no shame in discussing the sexual lives of themselves or others and even find a small amount of embarrassment in their conversational partner around the issue to be amusing, though most pixies will stop and apologise if they realise that they are making someone truly upset. Despite this openness, pixies generally do not have sex with other creatures all that often, particularly humanoids. This is mostly due to the difference in size, making sex inconvenient for them. Still, when these unions do occur, pixies can get most humanoid women pregnant, resulting in a child with naturally fey qualities. Pixies generally do not let themselves get pregnant by female beings bigger than them; whether this is because she would birth an uncomfortably large baby is unknown. In any case, pixies generally fuck mortals for pleasure, not reproduction.

Among themselves, pixies have sex pretty much all the time. With a completely relaxed view on sex, a pixie thinks nothing of making out with a friend or sister as a greeting, groping her tits as a playful prank, or scissoring with her to pass the time. Despite this constant sexuality, pixies tend not to breed all that frequently. When a pixie does choose to reproduce, it is normally with a close friend; with the pair often shying away from the rest of the world to fuck for several days straight. Once a pixie is impregnated, her pregnancy is largely the same as a human or elf’s but in miniature, taking about six months for her to give birth to a tiny baby, no bigger than a mouse. Pixies look after their children carefully, playing with, protecting, and teaching them until adulthood at about twenty years of age.

Men to Pixies

Being naturally lustful fey, female pixies are completely obsessed with male creatures when presented with them. In most situations, a pixie will shamelessly drool over the sight of a cock, and if a man fucks something in a pixie’s territory, he may hear her moan enviously from the foliage. Though a pixie’s desire for a man is great, her survival instincts and love of personal freedom are rarely overwhelmed entirely. Pixies know that male creatures are not always good, and a villainous man may try to harm her or capture her as a sex toy slave for life. Generally wishing to avoid injury and lifelong imprisonment, a pixie must pick her male sexual partners carefully.

A pixie’s most obvious choice may be whatever male animals inhabit her home territory, for most will lack the mental machinations to desire more than to breed her. As such, pixies commonly spend time trying to attract the attention of creatures like male squirrels, hares, foxes, and birds to spend an afternoon using her pussy as they wish. Pixies often become learnt in the various reproductive habits of such animals simply to better seduce their males. Pixies may only sometimes hesitate when a male beast is particularly large. This is not out of a fear of a larger cock but because male beasts impregnate females, including pixies, with members of their kind, and pregnancy with an elk calf or bear cub can prove inconvenient to the movements of one as small as a pixie. Such males are generally considered better left to larger fey, such as dryads.

Males that are not beasts tend to impregnate pixies with pixies and are therefore less of a concern to have sex with, regardless of size. Indeed, many pixies go giddy with excitement at the thought of taking on a humanoid or monstrous cock bigger than they are. However, non-bestial males tend to have non-bestial mindsets, so a pixie must determine a man is safe to approach before trying to fuck him. This, ironically, can make pixies look like they dislike men, since, in their desperation to establish his character swiftly before he slips out of her grasp, a pixie may throw all manner of character-testing pranks a man’s way in a short period in a mercilessly dense barrage. If the man proves to be of a safe nature, however, the pixie will throw herself at him, pretty much pussy first, in way of apology.

Many mortal tales seem to suggest that, like dryads and hags, there is no such thing as a male pixie. This is not entirely true. From what can be gleaned, there seems to be either incredibly few or no male pixies born among the pixies of the Material Plane. However, back in their native realm of the Feywild, pixies do occasionally birth males. Male pixies are, in some ways, a lot like females of their kind, being small, playful, largely pacifistic princes of the Feywild. However, they also turn their kind’s already intense sexual appetites even higher, readily having sex with any creature that allows them access. In the Feywild, there are many lustful creatures who will joyously take a male pixie’s surprisingly large cock, not only fellow pixies and sprites but also larger fey, like dryads and satyrs. Even small animals are said to fawn over a male pixie’s dick.

As well as these immediately agreeable sexual unions, male pixies also share their kind’s love of pranks. Often coming in the form of elaborate traps and enchantments, many of a male pixie’s pranks end up with him fucking and possibly even impregnating a woman when she least expects it. By mortal considerations, this may be considered rape, but it is never intended that way. In the highly licentious corners of the Feywild, where sex is considered a normal part of life, getting caught and fucked in the arcane trap of a male pixie is a minor event; many female fey will find their predicament amusing, and at the very worst they may simply feel annoyed and inconvenienced. One who is genuinely offended or emotionally violated by the male pixie’s antics, such as a visitor from the Material Plane, may possibly get a half-hearted apology, but he likely won’t consider himself to be in the wrong. The male pixie will probably just think his victim’s sense of humour to be particularly poor.

Chapter 217: Pseudodragon

Dragons are known for a variety of qualities that, together, make them into creatures of legend. Dragons are known for their reptilian forms, their lust for treasure, their titanic pride, and, most often, a staggering size to match. Most dragons grow to an enormous size, with wings that blot out the sun and a mass that shakes the earth when they land. This is not necessarily true of the entire draconic family, however.

Visually resembling a fearsome red dragon, the kind that one would likely see burning down villages and slaying adventurers with ease, one is unlikely to mistake a pseudodragon for its true dragon relatives, thanks mainly to its diminutive size. Smaller than even a red dragon’s newly hatched wyrmling, pseudodragons seldom outgrow a common housecat in scale. Small as they may be, however, pseudodragons maintain the pride of dragonkind, along with a full complement of draconic instincts. Thankfully, though their scales suggest allegiance to the wicked chromatic dragons, most pseudodragons are more playful and tolerant in nature.

Dragon in Miniature

Hardy and adaptable for their size, pseudodragons can be found in most places, with the exception of incredibly cold locales. By preference, however, a pseudodragon will inhabit forests for their plentiful cover to hide in, large amount of prey, and profusion of potential nesting sites to lair within. Pseudodragons, while never cowardly, are secretive and prefer to slink away from potential threats rather than confront them alone. As such, pseudodragons quickly become experts at gliding silently between branches and masking their presence among grasses, foliage, and even plain rocks. Some pseudodragons even inhabit urban areas, making their home in an attic or crawlspace, going completely unnoticed by locals despite their extraordinary forms as they hide among the eves and rafters.

In terms of diet, pseudodragons are, like true dragons, highly flexible in what they can eat but have a strong preference for hunting. However, where true dragons may prey upon the likes of elk and large livestock, pseudodragons hunt commensurately smaller prey, namely large bugs, rodents, frogs, and small birds, with anything larger than a rabbit or chicken likely being too ambitious for them. A pseudodragon generally takes down prey in a manner similar to a cat or ratting dog, pouncing upon it and delivering a swift bite. Aside from animals they consider prey, however, pseudodragons generally get along well with animals in their environments, with many pseudodragons being known to play around with cats, foxes, and smaller birds of prey.

When not hunting or playing with the local animals, pseudodragons generally spend a lot of time in their lairs. A pseudodragon lair tends to be set up within tree holes, rocky crevices, and the abandoned burrows of various animals. To improve her lair, a pseudodragon gathers soft materials like grasses and feathers but also various items of material value. Usually consisting of coins, small gems, and jewellery, it is rare for a pseudodragon’s hoard to value much more than a hundred gold pieces unless she has been very fortunate, but like any dragon, she will protect every piece of her hoard to her final breath. Once a pseudodragon gets her claws upon something, it can be all but impossible to have her relinquish it willingly.

Proud and possessive as any dragon, a pseudodragon is ready to stand up to any who threaten her treasure or her pride. In physical strength, a pseudodragon is about as dangerous as a wildcat, not to be trifled with lightly but also not the same cataclysmic threat a true dragon poses. Still, though lacking a breath weapon, pseudodragons do have a secret weapon, a venomous, scorpion-like stinger at the end of their tail, similar to a wyvern’s. Pseudodragon venom lacks the lethal potency wyvern venom is known for, but injection can lead to symptoms such as nausea, dizziness, or even fainting in certain cases, helping the little dragon make bigger foes think twice about threatening her. Defensively, pseudodragons are fairly fragile, preferring to use their agility rather than their scales to avoid harm. Interestingly, thought by some to be a reaction of their draconic blood being in such a small and vulnerable body, pseudodragons boast an unusually strong resilience against spells being cast upon them.

Draconic Familiar

Unlike most dragons, pseudodragons lack the vocal complexity needed to speak in recognisable languages, including Draconic. Instead, a pseudodragon can produce a range of animalistic sounds dependent on their emotions. Pseudodragons purr when comfortable, hiss or growl when displeased, and can even chirp like a songbird or cluck like a hen, normally as an expression of fascination or excitement by something, such as a new treasure for their hoard. Despite this lack of communicative ability, pseudodragons are not of animal intelligence as many assume. Instead, they often show intellect, understanding, and problem-solving skills comparable to most humanoids.

While these vocalisations are generally enough to get their feelings across in most circumstances, pseudodragons can be slightly more direct when they need to be. Despite otherwise lacking overt magical abilities such as a breath weapon, pseudodragons are possessed of a rudimentary magical telepathy. While unable to form words or specific meanings through their magical transmissions, a pseudodragon can share simple concepts, emotions, and images with other intelligent creatures. This ability to connect her mind to another’s also enables a pseudodragon to engage in a very particular form of relationship.

By specifically connecting her mind to another creature’s, a pseudodragon can create a telepathic bond that may extend far beyond the range of typical communications, allowing for the two to share not only ideas but also senses and a combined will. As long as the pseudodragon remains close to her bonded companion, she can even share her natural resistance to magic with them. This mental and spiritual connection is similar to the ones wizards form to familiars, extraplanar spirits that take the form of common animals, even to the point where a wizard bonded to a pseudodragon cannot form the required bond to create a spiritual familiar in addition. As such, most consider pseudodragons that form such a connection to someone to be that person’s familiar.

Unlike regular familiars, however, an individual in search of a pseudodragon usually cannot just reach out into the magical ether and snag one willing to be bound into service. Pseudodragons are actual flesh-and-blood creatures that must be physically found and petitioned for an alliance. Generally, pseudodragons are very selective about who they will form a familiar bond with. With the general attitudes of most pseudodragons, most will not willingly work with people of an evil nature and much prefer those that are good-hearted. In addition, thanks to their draconic pride, a pseudodragon will rarely tolerate a companion who considers themselves her master or considers her their pet. Beyond this, a pseudodragon’s willingness to become a familiar generally depends on how well her specific personality suits the prospective companions and can be improved with gifts.

Unlike most familiars, the bond between a person and a pseudodragon is not at the former’s option to break alone. Either party can, through a simple act of will, sever the telepathic familiar bond that joins them. For the pseudodragon’s part, such a severance is generally performed only when she considers the being she is joined to not to be as they presented themselves when she initially became their familiar, either through unfortunate change or initial deception. As such, an individual who starts to consider that they own their pseudodragon or consider themselves at liberty to go against her wishes in a major way is more than likely to lose her.

Sex and Sexuality Among Pseudodragons

The natural sexual habits of pseudodragons tend to take place about once per year in the early spring. At this time, dozens of pseudodragons may gather together in glades, valleys, or even among the branches of particular trees in order to seduce one another. Transmitting their desire to mate both vocally and telepathically, pseudodragons generally find the most compatible mates in the visiting flock fairly quickly. Once an agreeable mate is found, the pseudodragons often mate swiftly before immediately going their separate ways.

Once impregnated, a pseudodragon generally returns to her lair to lay a clutch of four to six brown, speckled eggs. Guarding her clutch fiercely, a pseudodragon cares for and incubates her eggs over the course of a few months, the eggs generally hatching out into tiny wyrmlings at the height of summer. The mother continues to care for her hatchlings as they grow, bringing them food until they start to venture out alone. Perhaps due to being so much smaller than other dragons, pseudodragon wyrmlings reach adulthood far faster than regular dragons, often being adult-sized and ready to fend for themselves by the following spring.

When it comes to sex for pleasure or sex with other creatures, pseudodragons are generally less interested compared to true dragons. The latter disinterest may be out of a combination of the pseudodragon’s inability to produce half-dragons with other female life and their small size compared to many creatures that may be interested. Still, there are occasional stories of pseudodragon familiars getting close enough to their magically bonded companions to feel the spark of romance or even sexuality.

Men to Pseudodragons

Like most dragons, pseudodragons have a somewhat instinctive belief that men seek to use sex to gain some form of dominion over them. With their size already making many paranoid about being disrespected by non-draconic creatures, it is not uncommon for a pseudodragon to feel naturally driven to discriminate against men. Still, most pseudodragons are generally moral creatures so are unlikely to scheme against an innocent man, instead taking pains to avoid him and, if forced to interact with a man, may be somewhat oversuspicious and oversensitive to any sexual remarks.

Thanks to this, it is exceedingly rare for a man to attain a pseudodragon familiar. Still, pseudodragons are not completely recalcitrant nor utterly beholden to their first instincts. Therefore, there have been a few men persuasive or genuinely good-natured enough to overcome a pseudodragon’s initial reticence to interact with him and gotten to the point where they have found their personalities complimentary enough for her to even like and possibly feel sexually attracted to him. Once a pseudodragon establishes such a fondness for a man, it normally compels her to follow him, for in her mind, the individual is possibly the only acceptable man for her, and she cannot afford to lose track of him. Most such infatuated pseudodragons become their man’s familiar so as to better keep track of and protect him.

From these lengthy relationships between men and pseudodragons, it is known that, unlike true dragons, the offspring of a pseudodragon and a non-draconic man is not a half-dragon hybrid. Instead, a pseudodragon knocked up by a man lays eggs that generally hatch into pseudodragons, utterly akin to those hatched from eggs created in the more regular fashion. There does not even seem to be any behavioural difference caused by a non-draconic father.

Though they resemble true dragons in shape much more strongly than other draconic offshoots, such as dragon turtles and wyverns, pseudodragons are definitively not true dragons, if their minuscule size and lack of elemental affinity were not hint enough of that fact. As with all draconic offshoots, all pseudodragons are female, and there is no recorded mention of a male of their kind being born.

Chapter 218: Purple Worm

In the impenetrable depths of the Underdark danger is found around every corner. One small mercy is that most danger is confined to the tunnels in front of and behind you. This preconception of safety, however, is a deception. Thought by many to be among the architects of the Underdark’s winding tunnels, purple worms are gargantuan horrors capable of bursting out of nowhere and wreaking havoc.  Travelers in the Underdark are generally advised to be quiet and light on their feet simply by virtue of the normal predators that roam the tunnels, but they are doubly advised unless they wish to call forth a purple worm.

Tunnelling Leviathan

With its huge, highly elastic breasts generally pressed up close against its body in the tight quarters of it tunnels, a purple worm is essentially a titanically long, flexible pillar of living flesh, ten feet wide and possessed of a similarly sized set of teeth, strong enough to crunch through solid rock at speed. With this, a purple worm is a capable burrower even in stone. While a purple worm can slither along at speed, it prefers to make its own way, digging constantly to avoid the restrictions of following pre-existing tunnels. This instinct is so ingrained, that even purple worms that find themselves living closer to the surface tend to prefer barren, rocky places, like mountains, deserts, and mesas, and tend to spend much of their time burrowing under the surface, only surfacing every now and then to feed. However, this may be due to other instincts as well.

Like a humble earthworm, purple worms are eyeless, and thus assumedly blind, creatures. They do, however, show some ability to detect light. Generally, a purple worm’s reaction to light is fairly negative, often driving it back underground. This repulsion is not overwhelming though, and a purple worm close enough to the surface is usually perfectly happy to snatch up some prey in broad daylight before retreating underground and no amount of luminosity is going to intimidate a purple worm from potential prey once it's located. If anything, a purple worm’s distaste for light and open spaces makes it a more efficient predator, shaping its behaviour into that of an expert ambush hunter, despite its lacking intelligence.

By instinct, the purple worm stays out of sight, underground and in a tunnel of its own constant creation. Only when it grows close to living prey does a purple worm break through into the open. With a maw wide enough to swallow a horse and rider whole, a purple worm is usually equipped to simply devour its prey as it passes and burrow on, but if there are multiple items of prey to consume and they seem to put up a fight, the purple worm is more than equipped for prolonged combat. As well as the giant, fanged maw at its front, a purple worm also possesses a weapon on its other end, a stinger the size of a knight’s lance, capable of delivering one of the most potent venoms known to mortals.  Between these two ends, a purple worm is ringed with muscle and carapace plates as hard as steel.

Despite the devastating effect of a purple worm’s presence, there are some benefits that can be extracted from it, under certain conditions. By virtue of how they dig, purple worms constantly ingest and release earth and stone. By a quirk of their biology, valuable materials within this substrate, such as gems and ores, tend to accumulate within a purple worm’s body. As such one brave or foolhardy enough to try and slay a purple worm may find a bounty of mineral wealth within it, not to mention the alchemical value of its potent venom and other parts.

Purple worms are also somewhat useful by natural standards too. When an area is rich in prey, one or more purple worms can spend months or even years crisscrossing one area, tunnelling back and forth. However, thanks to how Purple Worms burrow, they leave behind perfectly round, largely stable tunnels, around ten feet in diameter. When the  purple worms move on, therefore, they create a far more interconnected underground habitat for new life to spring from.

Trackers Through Stone

As mentioned, purple worms are pretty much blind for the most part. Even if they weren't, however, a purple worm’s prey is generally located on the other side of solid rock, meaning that sight would not be useful for locating them anyway. Instead, a purple worm largely relies on two other senses to track its prey.

Firstly, a purple worm can feel vibrations in the earth. As a purple worm digs through the rock, it can feel any footstep or motion against the stone within 60 or so feet of it, giving it a general idea of where prey may be located when it moves close to them. As a result, travellers in the Underdark who suspect a purple worm is nearby are advised to step lightly, or stand still completely until the worm has moved on. Of course, with purple worms being buried, it is not always clear if a purple worm is close, or if it has left, with only occasional tremors suggesting the possibility of its very close presence. As such, most creatures of the Underdark naturally step carefully wherever they go, hoping to avoid a purple worm’s notice.

As a purple worm gets closer to its prey it supplements its vibrational sensitivity with its acute hearing. A purple worm can pinpoint a human heartbeat within twelve paces, allowing it to burst out of the rock with perfect accuracy. While a purple worm cannot track more distant sounds with such pinpoint precision, it can still follow louder noises. Purple worms are thus among the many reasons that the wilds of the Underdark are so eerily silent, with many subterranean creatures communicating with silent gestures or lights. When loud noises do pierce the silence of the Underdark, such as during a large-scale battle, the combatants risk drawing in a purple worm, exploding from the rock to lay waste to both sides.

One place where noise is almost unavoidable is in dense urban centres. Be it the forges of the duergar, the hawking of wares in a drow market, or the unimaginable experiments of the mind flayers, all places where intelligent life gathers in mass in the Underdark risk drawing the attention of a purple worm. Able to burrow through solid stone, few physical defences can avert a purple worm on the attack. However, any race adapted to the Underdark has lived with the threat of purple worms for centuries, and will thus have had time to develop countermeasures. Be it the blessings of a subterranean deity, a work of complex arcana or artifice, or an emanation of psionic dominion, most major settlements in the Underdark have some form of protection that repels purple worms. When it comes to the sabotage of one’s enemies, deactivating this defence is a powerful if unfocused tool, even a single purple worm attack can cripple a smaller city.

Sex and Sexuality Among Purple Worms

Given their largely subterranean nature and the incredible danger involved in approaching one, the exact details of purple worm reproduction have not been observed directly. Still, much can be inferred by close encounters and what is left behind. Firstly, Purple Worms seem most willing to mate in places with high concentrations of prey, likely because these are the sorts of places where purple worms are most likely to assemble in any great number. While the exact triggers for this event are unknown, a purple worm seems to trigger a mass mating with a call, inaudible to human ears but described as an impossibly deep groan by elves.  

The exact mechanics of purple worm sex can only be guessed at, but it is thought that dozens of worms answer most calls. Since purple worms rarely show signs of injury consistent with fighting one another for mates, one can assume that purple worms are quite amicable with one another. In the place of a brawl over mating rights, purple worms may breed in a vast orgy of titanic, writhing bodies, likely located in a larger cavern.

Likely soon after mating, purple worms lay their eggs in large caverns. Purple worm eggs are roughly a foot across and spherical, suspended in clusters of hundreds in the chamber’s centre by strands of a mucus-like substance that hardens into a glassy, crystalline structure. Purple worm eggs are prized by alchemists and mages for their various magical properties, but these egg chambers are particularly well defended, while lacking the intelligence for true parental care, the crystalised strands that suspend purple worm eggs carry vibrations incredibly well. As such, the slightest sound or careless strike in this brood chamber can draw in an adult purple worm in search of prey.

When purple worm eggs hatch, the wormlings are relatively small, only a few feet long, and lack the strength to burrow through solid rock. Squirming though tunnels, these wormlings make their way to places like deserts where they can more effectively dig through the softer substrate and hunt surface creatures until they grow big enough to return to the Underdark, a process that can take decades.

Men to Purple Worms

As with great dragons, towering giants, and diabolical fiends, the existence of a creature as powerful and singularly untameable as a purple worm has inspired in many men a daring dream to one day show the extremes of their sexual prowess by fucking her. For most men, such an endeavour can be labelled as foolhardy to the extreme or even suicidal if they actively choose to pursue it. Like the aforementioned dangers, purple worms are lethally dangerous, but unlike them, a purple worm does not loathe men in a way that offers the faintest chance of reasoning with them, it merely sees them as yet more prey.

With virtually no detailed visual capability and senses instead dependent on sound and vibration, it is supremely unlikely that a purple worm can even sense any appreciable difference between a humanoid man and woman. To them, a man is simply something that moves, makes noise, and can very likely be eaten. With diplomacy not a viable way to fuck her, a man dead set on laying with a purple worm will have to down her in battle and capture her. This is not an easy endeavour. Armies struggle to hold their own against a purple worm without suffering losses most would consider unconscionable for the goal of helping a fuck it. Likewise, with their incredible strength, surprising flexibility, and ability to burrow through solid stone, purple worms are nigh impossible to safely contain.

One of the many mysteries of the purple worm is whether males exist. Analysing their uncertain origins, there is nothing to suggest that they are impossible, but there have been no confirmed encounters. Still, with a lifetime spent burrowing, a male purple worm could spend its entire life unseen, so the existence of male purple worms remains both impossible to fully deny but also to confirm until one shows itself, likely to wreak sexual destruction on a massive scale. 

Chapter 219: Quaggoth

Quaggoth

With shaggy coats, claws, and savage demeanour but also a glimmer of intellect and understanding to suit their stooped upright stance, there are a race of beings that stalk the depths of the Underdark that straddle the line between humanoid and wild beast. Found stalking twisted caves and fungal forests alike, quaggoths are pack hunting brutes that stalk victims in the name of predatory instinct or more sinister masters.

Exiled by Elves

Nowadays, quaggoths are almost exclusively found in the Underdark, scouring caves for edible fungi and prey of any sort. Though not directly injurious to them as it is for myconids and drow, sunlight has a profoundly negative effect on a quaggoth’s mind, filling them with animalistic disgust and terror, the rare quaggoth packs that still grace the surface to hunt by night will flee back underground by sunrise, gnashing their teeth and growling hatefully at the sun. Little short of compulsive magic or direct threats to the quaggoth’s life can make them abide the scourge of daylight. Some believe that this incredible aversion to the light of the surface may be the result of a painful ancestral memory all living quaggoths share, perhaps the events that led to the initial retreat of their kind underground.

Once, it is said, quaggoths were not creatures of the depths. Instead, they were forest dwelling creatures that climbed through the trees and hunted by night. Unlike many other races whose stories found a tragic end in the Underdark, it is not thought that quaggoths were any more enlightened on the surface than they are today. Accounts from those ancient times describe them as similarly primal and savage to their cave dwelling descendants. While not intentionally cruel or despotic, quaggoths then and now are often erratic and prone to mindless aggression, especially when hungry, frightened, or injured, able to swiftly lose what rationality and go on a violent rampage. This combined with their willingness to prey on intelligent life, inevitably put them in competition when their forests became home to the newly arriving elves.

Whether it was an act of self defence against the predatory quaggoths, a campaign of extermination led by more morally dubious leaders or some combination of the two, the elves and the quaggoths found themselves at war. While quaggoths were, and still are, hulking specimens of strength, with razor sharp claws, hide as tough as boiled leather, and predatory fury, finely crafted weapons, tactical genius, magical knowledge, and the ability to cooperate on a scale greater than small packs gave the elves an overwhelming advantage that swiftly turned the war into a slaughter.

With every inch of the surface a killing ground for them, the handful of surviving quaggoths fled to the only place they could, down into the Underdark, associating the surface and the sun that lit it only with death by elven arrows. Fortunately for the quaggoth survivors, many of their adaptations to forest life translated surprisingly well into the Underdark. Claws that once enabled arboreal agility let a quaggoth clamber along cave walls with ease. A quaggoth’s eyes, made to let them hunt in the shadows of twilit forests, also made the subterranean darkness of their new home a benefit to them rather than a hindrance. With this head start, the quaggoths adapted quickly to their new home, learning to survive any way they could, even becoming functionally immune to toxins after generations of eating poisonous fungi and venomous vermin.

While fairly successful Underdark predators, the quaggoths’ suffering at elven hands has not come to an end, for only a few short centuries after their retreat, the drow followed them, likewise exiled by their surface kin. Cruel as they are, the drow found no sense of kindred spirit in another race sent down by elven enemies. Instead, to the drow, quaggoths are a race of strong backed, feeble-minded savages, ideal for enslavement as soldiers or brute labourers. The natural poison immunity quaggoths enjoy also makes them ideal for handling the drow’s prized venomous spiders and fending off the poisoned blades of rival assassins.

Despite generally being wild and unruly, it is uncommon for quaggoths to directly disobey the drow that enslave them or seek either rebellion or escape unless they find their mistresses in a state of significant weakness. Quaggoth slaves are even known to ape the habits of their drow superiors, becoming cruel and depraved while fighting and helping to oppress other, less cooperative slaves for them. Some think that this surprising obedience may be an animalistic belief of superior power being respected or an ancestral memory of terror brought on by the drow’s elven forms. A few dare to suggest it is neither of these, and that something managed to dominate the quaggoths before the drow descended, preconditioning them to subservience.

Psionic Shamans

The drow are not the only denizens of the Underdark to have recognised the brute strength of quaggoths as workers and dumb muscle. Virtually all Underdark residents with the intellectual development and lack of moral fibre to engage in slavery regularly enslave quaggoths. Aside from the drow, the most well-known users of quaggoth underlings are the mind flayers. While being just intelligent enough to follow telepathic orders and be a passable meal, quaggoths are generally not socially competent enough to affect a wide scale rebellion against the mind flayers in the way the gith and the duergar are known to have done. As such, quaggoth thralls are popular sources of dumb labour for the illithids, though some believe the mind flayers tampered further with the quaggoths to ensure their obedience, leading to how easily quaggoths seem to submit to creatures of superior intelligence to them, particularly those that demonstrate supernatural power, be it a mind flayer’s psionics, a drow priestess’s gifts from Lolth, or a wizard’s spells.

Another effect of this illithid tampering, or perhaps an existing quality that initially drew the mind flayer’s attention in the first place, is the development of unique psionic powers within a small proportion of the quaggoth population. Known amongst their kind as thonots, psionically adept quaggoths are treated with caution or outright slain by most kinds of slavers for their gifts sometimes encourage them to try and lead their fellow quaggoths in escape or small-scale rebellions, often making them more trouble than they are worth. Among quaggoths who live out of slavery, who live wild and free in the subterranean wilderness, thonots are revered.

Quaggoths have little in the way of their own culture beyond the immediate necessities of survival. What rituals they do have are simple and crude, they are also the responsibility of a quaggoth pack’s thonot to remember, along with limited tactical knowledge and practical facts about their territory. It is thought that a thonot’s psionic awakening helps her to remember all of this information, and also to subtly increase their ability to mentally dominate their fellow quaggoths. This influence may partially be from appearance too, however, a thonot is unmistakable to her fellow quaggoths as she habitually shaves odd, geometric patterns into her own fur, seemingly the shapes of the unseen psionic force that surrounds her.

A thonot’s abilities are not all subtle influence and sensitivity however. Through psychic will alone, a thonot can enact all manner of supernatural effects. A thonot’s telekinesis allows her to manipulate objects from afar with her mind or even cushion the falls of her and her pack to let them drop from any height. She can exude telepathic interference to mask herself from attack with hallucinatory duplicates. A thonot can even alter physical matter and beings, altering sizes, heating metal, and healing wounds at a touch. As well as giving her a leg up in battle and daily life, a thonot’s powers also strike fear and awe into her tribe’s hearts, something she will try to do often, for a thonot’s authority is not as iron clad as one may think. Should a thonot show weakness or incompetence, her tribe will eventually turn on her, all ganging up to kill and then eat her in a cannibalistic ritual that the participants hope will cause her psionic powers to pass on to one who partook in her flesh.

Sex and Sexuality Among Quaggoths

As with most parts of their lives, quaggoths tow the line between animalistic and tribal when it comes to sex and mating. Quaggoths can feel a level of attraction to specific individuals that may be described as love, but ultimately, they have few defined rituals or traditions regarding the act of reproduction. Quaggoths generally seem to have sex for pleasure, simply grabbing one another and fucking in moments of inactivity. If this casual fucking results in a pregnancy, then that is all the better for the expansion of the tribe. As a result, quaggoths can get pregnant at nearly any time, with no set season or true preamble to mating, except perhaps in the wake of a period of particularly successful hunting. In any case, the unchanging nature of the Underdark would make such specific timing pointless.

A quaggoth’s pregnancy is fairly long, lasting ten or so months. Thankfully for quaggoths, their pregnancies rarely impact their ability to run, climb, or hunt nearly as severely as other mortal races would often be limited. Birthing one or two offspring at a time, young quaggoths grow quickly, becoming big and capable enough to hunt within a year and reaching full size in three. Parental care is fairly limited among quaggoths, they will nurse their cubs for a while but then largely ignore them the moment they can crawl, leaving the young quaggoths to snatch what morsels they can as the adults hunt.

Adult quaggoths don’t seem to fuck for the intentional sake of reproduction, but instead to contain a rabid, uncontrollable lust. A quaggoth denied the chance to have sex for a while becomes increasingly aggressive in her desires, eventually being willing to rape almost anything to satisfy her desires. This is even notable among enslaved quaggoths, to the point where those denied sex long enough can seemingly lose their sense of reason and mount suicidal attempts to rape their mistresses. As such, drow and other Underdark slavers have long learnt the necessity of keeping their quaggoths’ sexual needs under control.

Though some races gloat over keeping enslaved concubines for their sexual use, quaggoths are seldom sexually attractive by the standards of drow, duergar, and the like, at least not to the point where having fucked one is something an owner would wish to declare publicly. Instead, quaggoth slaves are usually permitted to fuck amongst themselves when not working. Some slavers even encourage their quaggoths to fuck their other, less readily obedient slaves as a form of punishment or demoralisation. If the quaggoth is sexually and physically starved beforehand, this practice can even serve as a particularly brutal form of execution.

Men to Quaggoths

When left to their own devices, quaggoths are fairly pragmatic in their view of men. Most quaggoths know that men can be particularly talented and pleasurable sexual partners. Since quaggoths are particularly driven by base sexual pleasure, a quaggoth who feels neither hungry nor in immediate danger from a male creature may very well try to present herself for sex right away. While a quaggoth may submit immediately to a man in exchange for sex, she can also be more demanding. If the male creature looks small enough to be dragged around, as most humanoids do to a quaggoth, she may well seize him and try to keep him as her prisoner of sorts. Quaggoths rarely have the intellect to construct cages or other restraints, but will use their strength to hold a man for as long as possible.

If a quaggoth is part of a pack, they can collectively keep watch over a man possibly indefinitely, with each member eager for their turn to fuck. Still, this eagerness can bring tension to a pack, as each quaggoth wants to feel the man’s dick, they may squabble with one another, these squabbles possibly descending into fights that can give a man an opening to escape. Equally, a fight over a man could just as easily end up with the man being torn up and devoured by the quaggoths fighting over him.

On the other hand, if a man proves able to overpower the quaggoths, they are usually swift to surrender their bodies to him, both out of a desire to fuck and a wish to avert further aggression from a superior foe. In this way a man can quickly gain one or more loyal, if not particularly civilised servants (or slaves, depending on how the situation is viewed). However, a quaggoth’s loyalty lasts only as long as a man’s strength does, if a man finds himself in a position of weakness, a quaggoth concubine may try to dominate him at best or eat him at worst.

All of this permissiveness of males is specifically the behaviour of wild, largely uninfluenced quaggoths. When enslaved, quaggoths tend to take cues from their mistresses. Thanks to this, quaggoths enslaved by drow inherit the drow’s murderous despisal of men and the drow’s quaggoths will just as readily slaughter a man as the drow themselves. However, many quaggoths only express this hatred outwardly, lacking the complex philosophical understanding to comprehend why they should reject their natural sexual instincts besides the fact that their drow mistresses will punish or even slay them if they don’t. As such, quaggoths freed from slavery or convinced that there will not be consequences tend to drop their misandrist tendencies immediately, returning to their natural inclinations.

Male quaggoths are not all that common but are born every now and then. While males born in slavery, especially drow slavery, seldom last long, those born in the wild tend to do remarkably well, their ability to more effectively bring mind shattering pleasure to their fellows making them popular in their packs. Traveling around the Underdark nomadically, male quaggoths guide their packs not only on the hunt for food but also on the hunt for more for him to fuck. Whenever not particularly hungry, a male quaggoth will grab whatever female creature he can get his claws on and breed her savagely. While most such victims are either left behind or slain, a woman who the male quaggoth particularly likes, normally because she put up a fight, may be dragged along by the tit on the pack’s travels to be the male’s personal breeding hole for weeks, months, or however long it takes for her to escape, expire, or break and become another savage slut in his tribe.

Chapter 220: Rakshasa

 

Rakshasa

When dealing in souls, the Nine Hells live and breathe through matters of temptation and bargaining. For all their evil, one thing to be said for devils is that they always deliver what they agreed to in their contracts, keeping, at minimum, to the letter of their agreements, if not its spirit. For many such soul deals, the fiends’ side can be fulfilled across the planes by way of visions or dark blessings invested into the mortal supplicant. Some favours, however, cannot be fulfilled in such a hands-off manner. Often, the price of a mortal’s soul is a service to be enacted upon the Material Plane by agents of the Nine Hells.

These deals present an obstacle to the Nine Hells fulfilling their side of the bargain. As fiends, most devils cannot physically enter the Material Plane unless directly summoned by a mortal or by locating a thankfully rare portal that connects the mortal realm to the Hells directly. To avoid these difficulties Asmodeus, ruler of the Nine Hells engaged in an obscure and now lost ritual to transform a number of her most powerful devils, rending their fiendish spirits from their bodies and remaking them in vessels of mortal flesh. Physically divorced from the infernal hierarchy but still bound in spirit, Asmodeus’s agents to the Material Plane became some of her few fiendish underlings able to freely traverse through the planes, turning into beings known as rakshasas.

In most cases using their inherent magic to resemble mere mortals, the true form of a rakshasa is surprisingly charming, though doubtlessly inhuman. A rakshasa without her magical disguise resembles a tall humanoid with the fur, heads, and features of a majestic tiger. Most odd however are the rakshasa’s claw tipped hands. Reflecting the deceptive nature of their owners, the hands of a rakshasa are twisted the wrong way, their palms and the way their fingers naturally curl being the inverse of normal.

Mortal Indulgence

For most fiends, the Lower Planes are a nigh inescapable pit of misery and pain. Even if a fiend is powerful enough to direct most of the suffering downwards to those weaker than them, they still cannot escape the terrible nature of their realm unless they happen to be summoned by mortals or stumble across a portal. Rakshasas are different, however. By simple act of will, a rakshasa can transport herself to any plane of existence she pleases. Of course, entering a plane is one thing, remaining is quite another. A rakshasa foolish enough to shift into an Upper Plane, such as the Seven Heavens or Arborea, would likely be detected as a fiend and killed within minutes.

Less holy domains, however, like the Elemental Planes, the Feywild, and the Material Plane are far less alert against the encroachment of evil and it normally takes only a mere illusory disguise for a rakshasa to hide her fiendish nature. This is no issue for a rakshasa; with a mere exertion of her deceptive spirit, she can create illusions, enchantments, and other falsehoods with the ease that one may breathe transforming her guise, her words, and the very reality those that meet her perceive into whatever she happens to desire. Even without employing enchantments, a Rakshasa is a consummate deceiver, able to tell what anybody wants to hear and turn it back at them in just the right way to come to her benefit. Rakshasa often pride themselves on their ability to fleece mortals entirely, leaving one they meet worse off, enriching herself at their expense, and yet receive their victim’s thanks in the end, the deceived mortal truly believing the fiend helped them.

Escaped from the suffering that is the Lower Planes, Rakshasa crave personal enjoyment, power, and pleasure. To achieve this, Rakshasas insinuate themselves in positions of power in the mortal world, be it as a noblewoman, high priestess, esteemed sage, or a fabulously successful merchant, among other comfortable roles that a serpent’s tongue, hefty magical deceptions, and a fragment of the Nine Hell’s unfathomable treasury can get them. In such lofty positions, Rakshasa seek to claim every luxury they can, be it fine clothes and jewellery, exquisite food and wine, and art pieces which glorify them or show their inordinate status.

Of course, living on the Material Plane makes rakshasas no less a fiend at their core, and their minds are incurably twisted to evil. By preference, rakshasas choose to be served by slaves they may torture and abuse as they desire. In places slave ownership would not be tenable, they tend to be cruel to their servants, levelling what abuses they can without getting into legal trouble or driving the most desperate for employment away. When able, rakshasas prefer to dine on dishes made from the flesh of humanoids, not so much out of preferring the taste, but because an intelligent being would have more greatly understood their incoming death and thus suffered more.  Besides their own acts, they sponsor and encourage others to partake in the most horrific deeds and subtly encourage misery in those around them. Even with a seemingly innocent touch, a Rakshasa can fill a person’s nights with nightmares that wear down their souls.  

Asmodeus did not create the Rakshasas so that they may be free of her, however. Though they live away from the Nine Hells, Rakshasa still exist at Asmodeus’ beck and call, either directly or through an intermediate such as an Archdevil or infernal general. While devils abide and partially fund the rakshasas’ pampered lifestyles, a rakshasa who debases herself to the point of failing to meet her superior’s expectations can and will be recalled back to the Nine Hells and punished severely.

The main duties of a rakshasa are simply to fulfil the ends of deals made in her superior’s name that require an agent on the Material Plane to enact them. Normally such acts are done subtly, with the shifting of some of her immense fortune to hire mortal assassins, servants, mercenaries, and the like as necessary to do as the Nine Hells promised. Sometimes a rakshasa must be a little more hands on, casting enchantments on specific individuals, leading forbidden rituals, or the like, but a rakshasa normally assumes a separate identity for her infernal labours, keeping her public facing identity above suspicion. Rakshasas will also try to keep their superiors off their back by acquiring yet more souls for them, subtly encouraging those around them to damn themselves and forming infernal cults over time. They will also pursue great sources of magical power, both empower themselves and to offer as gifts to their superiors for additional favours.

Reincarnating Fiends

Though Rakshasas prefer to stay behind the scenes, manipulating matters to the Nine Hell’s advantage through financial and political influence, they are far from shy to violence when necessary or beneficial to them. Though much of a rakshasa’s innate magic is subtle deception, most will have access to weapons and magical items of far more destructive power. Even when a rakshasa is unarmed, she retains the claws of a tiger and, despite her inverted hands, most have the dexterity to gracefully flay their victims alive.

Like a temperamental cat, a rakshasa prefers to play with her victims rather than immediately kill them. While a rakshasa’s victims will often end up as her next meal, it is the pain and terror they suffered in their final moments that make them so delicious to her. As such, most rakshasas will have, hidden somewhere on their estate a prison and torture room where she can indulge her desire to inflict pain on those who entered her home uninvited, committed crimes against her person, or simply looked like somebody that no one would miss.

Fighting back against a Rakshasa is also a terribly difficult task for all but the most powerful and well-equipped heroes. Though seemingly a flesh and blood being and often wearing little but silks and jewels, mundane weapons break against a Rakshasa with not even a scratch on her, her body protected by powerful fiendish magic. Even most spellcasters are nothing to a rakshasa, with all but the most powerful of violent magics simply failing to affect her.

A rakshasa is not invincible, however; indeed, they have one particular weakness.  Unlike most fiends, who radiate evil from the entirety of their being, rakshasas are for the most part formed of mortal flesh, their fiendishness emanating from their core. As such, while all magical weapons can penetrate a rakshasa’s magical defences with some effort, weapons built for precise, piercing blows, such as spears and arrows, when invested with the blessings and intentions of good, drive directly to strike into a rakshasa, cruel, blaspheming heart.

However, not even such a decisive blow can spell a rakshasa’s final end in most cases. Like all devils, a rakshasa killed outside of the Nine Hells is not truly dead. Instead, her infernal essence is sent howling back to the Nine Hells to reform, washed up on the banks to the River Styx. Since rakshasa’s are not of fiendish body, however, this is a particularly unpleasant process for them, their mortal body reforming in agonising fashion over the course of months or even years. However, unlike many fiends, such a return does not send a rakshasa back to square one. Not needing help to find their way back into the Material Plane again, a regenerated rakshasa can step straight back from where she left off immediately ready to seek revenge on whichever mortal dealt her the pain and indignity of being killed.

With nearly limitless personal funds and pride to match, Rakshasa’s seldom let go of insults, especially those that involved their death. A Rakshasa will seek not only to murder those she believed wronged her, but will crave to see them suffer first. If a rakshasa’s killer somehow escapes her vengeance, she may enact her fury upon their friends, loved ones, or descendants. The misfortune of several lineages owes its existence to a rakshasa’s continuing wrath. As with most devils, the only way to kill a rakshasa for good is to follow her into the Nine Hells and kill her there.

Sex and Sexuality Among Rakshasas

With deeply hedonistic desires, most rakshasas have no small amount of lust within them, of which they seek to indulge however they can. Most Rakshasa will, either openly or in less publicly recognised disguises, attend erotically themed establishments, such as halls for erotic dancers, brothels, and the like. Most will also keep concubines, preferably enslaved but hired when appearances require it. Of course, being devils, rakshasas are not affectionate or kind lovers, though they can feign love and affection when it suits them. Most of the time, however, rakshasas prefer to use mortals they have complete power over, whom they are free to emotionally, physically, and sexually abuse for their pleasure. Behind closed doors a rakshasa’s tastes for sex and torture often intermingle to the point of the difference being unrecognisable.

Rakshasas are capable of using sexuality for purposes beyond mere satisfaction, however. With their fiendish magic and well-practiced insight, a rakshasa can peer into a mortal’s mind and uncover what would appeal to them most. So equipped, the rakshasa can then magically transform herself into her target’s vision of beauty and feign whatever attitude they would most desire with impeccable acting skills. Even if not able to go away and form a new disguise, a rakshasa’s skill as charm and deception can make her incredibly seductive. With her seductive charms, rakshasas try to sway mortals into acts of evil that will condemn their souls to the Nine Hells or to directly sign over their souls in a dark compact of sorts

For all their lust and allure, rakshasas tend to be surprisingly hesitant to get physical with mortals. This is not out of any particular objection to using sex and the like as a tool to their advantage, but out of a practical limitation of their mortal disguise. While a rakshasa can make herself look like practically any humanoid form, this resemblance is only an illusion and only the sight of observers is fooled. As such, physical contact of any kind can risk exposing her. One who attempted to stroke a rakshasa’s skin would feel her fur, her face would reveal feline features, and any who grasped her hands would feel their inversion. As such, rakshasas only really seek to have sex with individuals who are either sufficiently intimidated or in too deep in her infernal conspiracies to reveal her secret to the public, this is generally limited to slaves, mortal cultists, and lesser devils from the Nine Hells that she has managed to have summoned to serve her. Some Rakshasa’s are even known to create alar egos for themselves that stalk the streets by night, indulging in crimes like rape and worse, leaving their public identity’s reputation unsullied.

Rakshasas, like most fiends, cannot breed with each other or other fiends, but can create offspring with mortals, most often by them impregnating mortal women, though the other way around is possible too. Though rakshasas are generally placed somewhat tenuously in the ranks of the greater devils, the result of a rakshasa breeding with a mortal is a tiefling, not an infernal cambion. Most fiendish scholars suppose this is due to the technically mortal nature of a rakshasa’s body weakening the inheritance of her fiendish lineage. While the soul of a rakshasa’s offspring is not born corrupted, their bodies are still marked with the influence of the Nine Hells upon them. Thanks to rakshasas spending most of their time on the Material Plane, most tieflings alive today can trace their lineage back to mortals getting bred by a rakshasa, both as victims of rape and as participants in depraved unions.

Men to Rakshasas

Like most devils, rakshasas have a somewhat paradoxical relationship with mortal men. For the most part, male mortals annoy rakshasas. Rakshasas see themselves as above mortals of all kinds and the fact that men are so difficult to cow into true sexual submission reeks of arrogance to them. As with most of their dark feelings, a rakshasa can put her disdain for men aside for a while and feign acceptance or even desire for a man when it suits her with barely a hint of her true feelings being shown. While this feigned acceptance may be done to keep up appearances, a rakshasa will also pose as interested in order to try and take advantage of a man’s lust in order to sway him into following her advice be it making a deal for his soul, or twisting him towards evil or at least usefulness in her evil plans.

Of all men, obviously, rakshasas most despise those who cling to the side of good or completely refuse to bend to her authoritarian whim. Not only is anyone of this moral stance an enemy of the Nine Hells by default, but failing to seduce a man to evil feels like a direct insult to her legendary persuasive abilities. If a rakshasa cannot claim a man’s soul or make use of him, she will usually plot his destruction out of spite.

At the same time, however, rakshasas are fiends of nearly unquenchable hedonistic desires, and a desire for cock is not an unusual one to have. Still, the difficulty in controlling mortal men usually makes the risk of them feeling through her disguise while fucking her too great. Thanks to this, and a general loathing for men, a rakshasa is usually reticent to fuck a man unless she is certain he is not going to survive the encounter, or that he is an ally in her infernal machinations. Another issue that comes with sating her desire for cock on a mortal man is the risk of pregnancy. Not only is pregnancy and child care largely an annoyance the rakshasa would rather not deal with, but thanks to the nature of her illusory magics, it is much harder to hide her tiefling offspring’s infernal heritage than her own. As a result, rakshasas desperate for cock prefer to accumulate their infernal clout and requisition a lesser male devil of some description to serve her, particularly ones that can hide their devilish form, such as an imp, summoned to join her on the Material Plane though a cult of mortals that serve her. Not only are male devils unable to impregnate rakshasas, but their obedience is generally much more reliable than a mortal’s.

Rakshasas are particularly ancient fiends, selected by hand by Asmodeus and turned into a form separate from the usual infernal hierarchy. Whether there were any males among that litany is unknown, though the lack of mentions in historical records suggests that there are not. Why Asmodeus withheld the rakshasa transformation from male devils is debated. Some suggest that rakshasas came to be so early in the Nine Hell’s history that there were few mortal descended devils that had ascended to greater devil status for selection, and that the rakshasas were all once celestials that fell alongside Asmodeus herself. Others simply point out that male devils are poor choices for the role of infiltration into the Material Plane, staying in one place, and drawing relatively little attention. Then again, since a rakshasa’s disguise is an illusion rather than a physical transformation, a male rakshasa could make himself appear female with little issue, going unnoticed for millennia. How a male rakshasa may influence the mortal realm may only be guessed at, but one can likely expect that, if they exist, they are probably responsible for the lion’s share of tieflings.

Chapter 221: Remorhaz

Arctic wastes, vast glaciers, and tundra can be places of bleak isolation that gnaws almost as badly as the cold. As a silver lining to such loneliness, one may lull themselves into thinking that at least the featurelessness of such terrain precludes the presence of large and deadly monsters, or at the very least, the lack of cover means such a threat would be seen a mile off. Unfortunately, the coldest parts of our realm offer not even this luxury, for at any moment, one may step into the line of attack for a remorhaz. Resembling a terribly oversized centipede like creature, longer than two mammoths stood trunk to tail and able to rear up and stand over a frost giant with ease, the remorhaz nonetheless specialises in appearing out of nowhere, its prey engulfed in the blistering steam of subliming snow and then swallowed by its monstrously large jaws.

Flame in the Ice

Remorhazes are monsters that have entirely embraced realms of frigid cold, to the point that, like other monsters of such environs, such as yetis and white dragons, they have acquired complete immunity to cold of any intensity, even that generated by evocation magic. However, while most cold immune monsters have attained their resilience through acceptance of elemental ice into their being, the primal power of cold becoming inherent to them, the remorhaz has taken quite the opposite route.

At rest, a remorhaz can enter a torpid state where it can entirely tolerate its body temperature dropping to that of the surrounding environment. A remorhaz typically does this while sleeping or lying in ambush, letting falling snow bury its enormous form or even letting itself be frozen under several feet of ice. In this state, the remorhaz remains very much alive and unharmed while also dramatically reducing their need for food, letting them lie in wait for days, months, or even years for particularly large instances. It also maintains awareness through its antennae, able to pick up vibrations in the ice and snow, such as those made by potential prey walking on the surface above it.

When suitable prey shows up the remorhaz activates its secondary means to resist the cold. All along the back of a remorhaz is a series of magical organs capable of producing massive amounts of heat, creating a blistering aura around the remorhaz that causes its icy blue shell to glow the orange of flame as it turns snow and ice to steam, sets wood ablaze, and sears flesh. Even magic made to extinguish flames has no power against a remorhaz’s intense heat with magically conjured water and ice evaporating before it can even touch her iron hard carapace.

Striking from hiding, the remorhaz is a nightmare to fight back against. Immune to cold and flame alike, most spellcasters find their choices limited against a remorhaz. As for more traditional combatants, they must not only deal with the remorhaz’s formidable natural armour but also the heat of its body being intense enough to incinerate anyone close enough to try and land a melee strike against it. All the while, the remorhaz fights back. With a mouth large enough to swallow human sized prey whole, most people targeted by a remorhaz don’t even have time to consider mounting a counterattack against it as it engulfs them in the very moment it bursts from the melting snow. For prey too large to be swallowed in a single bite, a remorhaz’s sharp teeth generally make short work of them.

Arctic War Beasts

A giant, cold adapted predator capable of burning similarly cold adapted creatures, a remorhaz’s potential as an ally in combat is immense for other creatures who live in its home ranges. Unfortunately, remorhazes are not social creatures, they are solitary, of bestial intellect, and see all creatures other than themselves as potential prey. These predatory instincts are fixed and inflexible in adult remorhazes, making them almost entirely untameable. This mental inflexibility is somewhat less pronounced, however, in very young remorhazes. As such, certain daring creatures seek to claim remorhaz eggs and juveniles for themselves.

Claiming a remorhaz’s eggs or newly hatched young is no easy feat. Mother remorhazes protect their offspring fiercely so one will likely either have to kill her or at least remain in combat with her long enough to make off with a few eggs, both tasks that call for the most formidable of warriors or similarly monstrous attackers with the cunning to make use of the claimed offspring. Once young remorhazes have been attained, the taming process is rarely pleasant. Remorhazes naturally lack the mental concepts of friendship or affection, so, unless one has magical means to soothe their predatory aggression, the process of taming one is less about building trust and more so a matter of imposing one’s power over them, earning the remorhaz’s loyalty insofar as it understands attacking who it’s told to attack will spare it violence at its master’s hands.

The most well-known keepers of remorhazes are frost giants. Being bold enough to raid the nest of a mother remorhaz and coming out alive and with pets to show for it is a feat of strength that no fellow giant can deny. As such, having a young remorhaz as a companion in battle is a formidable social boon justifying an elevated rank in esteem among their fellows and position in the Ordning, the social structure to which giants ascribe. Practically, young remorhazes are also great hunting companions with great strength, an ability to track prey through vibrations in the ground, and also their blazing shells. While frost giants generally hate and loathe fire, they also understand that fire is something few creatures in their icy domains have particular resistance to, with many indeed having a vulnerability or inherent fear of it. As such, a remorhaz can devastate creatures like yetis, rival frost giants, and more while also sharing the frost giants’ immunity to the icy powers many such creatures possess, notably including the breath weapon of white dragons, the frost giants’ most hated rivals.

Remorhazes are not bound in their alliances however, and frost giants are not the only creatures to make use of them. For every remorhaz trained by frost giants to act as hunting hounds, there will likely be another snatched from its nest by a white dragon and planted in the entrance to her lair in order to slaughter anyone who came to her expecting to fight cold rather than blazing fire. Humanoids will also try to tame young remorhazes from time to time, particularly mountain living orcs, brutal human tribes of the tundra, and powerful wizards and the like looking for guard beasts for their strongholds.

Generally, unless one is able to maintain a magical hold on a remorhaz’s mind, a pet remorhaz is a limited time investment, with most being released or slaughtered by knowing masters at about a decade old. Past this point, as the remorhaz becomes larger and stronger, intimidation becomes less and less effective on it. Eventually, it will become uncontrollable even to the mightiest of owners and will turn on them violently. Many an adult remorhaz’s lair is built in the shattered and burnt remains of an arrogant frost giant’s steading or an ignorant orc war chief’s cave.

Sex and Sexuality Among Remorhazes

With their titanically large sizes, adult remorhazes tend to steer clear of one another to avoid having to share food. Able to sense one another even while burrowing, most meetings of remorhazes are averted by both monsters averting their course to split up, typically without even seeing one another, let alone getting into a fight. The only time a remorhaz must come in contact with another of her kind is when she is looking to mate.

With how unpredictable tundra and the like can be, remorhazes do not have a set mating season. Instead, a remorhaz goes looking for a mate whenever she is feeding particularly well, having succeeded on a number of hunts in recent succession. Such a fortunate remorhaz generally positions herself in an open area, such as the top of a glacier or the middle of an empty plane and declares her readiness to mate through a series of bone chilling roars, describes as similar to a wolf’s growl, but audible over miles of snow. Detectable to the antennae of other remorhazes from miles away, the calling remorhaz continues her roaring until either driven to give up and go hunting by hunger, or until a remorhaz that feels similarly well fed approaches her. When two remorhazes meet in this way the larger leads the smaller to a more enclosed space, such as a naturally existing cave or a tunnel melted into a glacier, where they will have sex.

After a few days of mating, during which the larger of the two is impregnated, she will drive her smaller mate out of the cave. Her mate rarely goes too far though, hunting in the local territory and thus driving off potential threats to their offspring. Meanwhile, the bigger remorhaz stays within the lair, sometimes intentionally letting the entrance freeze over or fill with snow. Within her den, the remorhaz lays a clutch of three or so eggs. Though these eggs can survive periods of freezing cold, they will only develop if kept warm. As such, the mother wraps herself around her eggs and keeps her heat producing organs at least partially active, for the three months of constant heat that it takes for the eggs to hatch. During this time the mother will not leave her eggs, not even to hunt, and she cannot enter an energy saving torpor. She will also protect her eggs from intruders with her life. If they are particularly successful at hunting, her mate may sometimes deliver carcasses to the mother, but this is not reliable enough to be counted on. As such, this period is the most exhausting part of a remorhaz’s life and a remorhaz mother whose eggs have successfully hatched is ravenous to the extreme.

Thanks to their intensive parental care, remorhazes hatch out as miniatures of their parents, complete with razor sharp teeth, chitinous armour plates, and burning pyrotechnic organs. Juvenile remorhazes follow their mother on only a few dozen hunts, over which they grow quickly. By the time they are driven off to look after themselves, a young remorhaz may be the size of a cart horse. From this point however, growth slows down, and it can take roughly a decade for a newly independent remorhaz to reach roughly adult size.

Men to Remorhazes

On the whole, humanoid men seem to exist below the estimation of an adult remorhaz as anything other than prey. If remorhazes can tell human-sized males apart from other creatures their size, they tend not to show it. Remorhazes certainly recognise masculinity in some situations, however, namely when the male is a creature of similar size to themselves. There are records of female remorhazes accepting and wilfully mating with male creatures close to their natural size, such as rocs, dragons, giants, and the largest of yetis, even dropping their temperature to let such large males fuck them without being burned.

Smaller men, generally have difficulty in getting a remorhaz to willingly comply in this way. As with the normal process of taming, younger remorhazes can be essentially bullied into submission and will let a male master fuck and breed her in the same way it would follow any other command. Adult remorhazes however, are rarely so obedient so unless one has powerful magic to control her, one will have to overwhelm her physically. Not only does the might and menace of a fully grown remorhaz make this a daunting task for all but the most capable warriors, but even if one manages to down or restrain a remorhaz one still has to overcome her intensive heat. While Nymphona’s protections keep the heat of a remorhaz’s pussy from being injurious itself, one need only lay their hand or other extremity away from this singular spot to be burned. As such, it is advisable to have magical protection against flame before trying to fuck an uncooperative remorhaz.

Though rare, male remorhazes do crop up in small numbers in remote corners of the frozen world. Like female remorhazes, males tend to see larger creatures as potential mates and smaller ones as prey. While generally being quite gentle and cooperative with female remorhazes, who tend to be similarly cooperative in turn, a male remorhaz tends to be far more violent to other potential mates, such as giants and the like, trying to incapacitate them through heat and biting before raping their half-conscious forms. Non-remorhaz offspring of a male remorhaz tend to keep hints of their paternity, such as insectoid natural armour, a natural resistance to heat and cold, and occasionally an affinity for fire-based magic.

Chapter 222: Revenant

Notes:

WARNING: This chapter discusses corporeal undead (think zombie). I add this chapter for the sake of completeness, but if sexual matter involving the animated dead makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter.

With the exception of liches and others of incredible arcane gifts, a dead person’s body or soul entering a state of undeath rarely occurs as an act in support of the deceased’s desires or best interests. At best, undeath may represent a hurdle of regrets and unhealthy bindings to the mortal world, as is the case for many ghosts. More often however, for the standard zombie, ghoul, or spectre, their cursed existence serves only the benefit of some uncaring necromancer or simply the hateful negativity of undeath itself. There is, however, one undead that serves no master, who acts entirely for its own desire. That undead is known as a revenant, and that desire is revenge.

Victims Turned Hunters

Unlike other forms of undead, there exists no spell or ritual a mortal can use to create a revenant. A revenant requires two ingredients, both of which are generally out of mortal hands. Firstly, a revenant must be formed from the soul of one who died in a manner it considers deeply unfair, killed by another in a manner steeped in betrayal, excessive cruelty, or died in a manner undeserving, and who is vehemently unwilling to rest until their undeserved fate is avenged. Secondly, the soul must be given leave to become a revenant by a deity of some description. All manner of goddesses are known to enable the birth of revenants from time to time, both evil and good, particularly those whose divine portfolios encompass matters such as honour, duty, justice, and revenge. Unlike many forms of undeath, enabling a soul to become a revenant does not bind that soul to the responsible goddess’ service, so a goddess generally only does this if they are truly invested in seeing justice be done or wish to be entertained by a bloody rampage of vengeance.

With their own vengeful spirit and the power of a goddess, a revenant’s soul returns to its corpse, anywhere from days to months after their death, clawing their way out of any grave they were buried in. As what clearly resembles a walking, animated corpse, revenants are strikingly similar in appearance to standard zombies, yet it is rare for a revenant to be mistaken for such. A revenant’s posture, bearing, and the light in their otherwise dead eyes marks them as a being in full possession of their mortal countenance. A revenant can speak as they did in life and bears all of their memories. However, a revenant is not returned to the mortal world to continue the life they had before, they are returned to life with only one task, to kill their murderer and avenge their death.

On the trail of this mission, revenants are practically unstoppable. As undead, revenants can pursue their quarry without need to eat or sleep. If need be, a revenant could even walk along the bottom of the ocean to find their killer on another continent. No bribe or persuasion can dissuade a revenant from their task, with even mystical restraints and enchantments failing to divert their vengeance. Even armies can only hold off a revenant for so long. Though rotted and bearing the wounds of their death, a revenant’s corporeal form near instantaneously recovers from any wound laid upon it. The only way to destroy a revenant’s body is to reduce it to ash with radiant power or burning flame. Even then, a revenant’s vengeful spirit is not gotten rid of so easily. Within a day of the body’s destruction, the revenant’s soul will find a new corpse of their sex to occupy, animating it to continue their quest.

While arguably invincible, a revenant is not immortal, and every revenant knows that their time to seek revenge is limited. A year after their initial resurrection, whether or not they have found their killer, a revenant’s body will turn to dust and their soul must depart for their intended afterlife. Knowing they have but one year to find vengeance, most revenants pursue their quest with furious urgency, though success will bring their demise all the faster, the revenant disintegrating upon the death of the final person they consider responsible for their demise. Most revenants embrace such a triumphant end, however, for all the capabilities their state provides, being a revenant is rarely described as pleasant.

Warrior of Vengeance

As well as simply having the perseverance of undeath, revenants have a suite of divine gifts that make them a formidable threat to whomever they consider responsible for their demise. Chief among these powers is their unbendable tracking ability. A revenant’s unfulfilled desire for revenge creates a spiritual bond between them and those they consider responsible for their death that cannot be severed by any means. As such, a revenant is constantly aware of the precise location of their killer, wherever they may be. More powerful than even divine divination, there is no hiding from a revenant’s tracking abilities, for a revenant can track their target into other planes of existence, through barriers against magical detection, and despite any number of magical protections besides. The only limitation on a revenant’s sense of location, is that it can only track one victim at a time. If a revenant has multiple targets for revenge, their sense will lock on to the one they consider most responsible, typically the individual who landed the killing blow, only moving on to the next target once the current one is dead.

As a revenant approaches their target, their ability to notice them is likewise unshakable. Through the bond of vengeance, a revenant can identify their killer by sight, regardless of disguise, illusion, or other alterations to their form. This bond, however works both ways, if the target of a revenant’s vengeance lays eyes upon the revenant, regardless of what corpse they operate in or how they obscure their rotting form, they know exactly who they are and what they have arrived to do. For most, the terror of this knowledge freezes them to the spot under the revenant’s gaze. Unable to move as they close in for their vengeance.

With all their living faculties, a revenant who was in life a warrior, spellcaster, priest, or the like, retains those talents in death, continuing to be masters of whatever spells, weapons, and armour they had mastery of prior. However, even if a revenant was not a formidable combatant while alive, their drive for vengeance will make them so in death. As well as their regenerative undead fortitude making them nigh impossible to put down, a mixture of undeath and vengeful fury gives revenants the strength to pin an ogre by the throat or swing their fists with the force of sledgehammers.

Most potent of all, however, is a revenant’s retained intellect and ability to plan. With confidence born of total devotion to a single goal, a revenant can intimidate those that would protect their targets into backing down and also often find allies to aid them on their quest for vengeance. Even most orders that are against undead will side with a revenant in the name of seeing justice be done. Even if a revenant cannot sway allies to join them out of righteousness, most revenants can sway allegiances with promises of information they were supposed to die with or access to their killer’s hidden belongings.

Sex and Sexuality Among Revenants

Though equipped with their full minds and internally are the same people as they were prior to death, revenants are brought back to life by virtue of their desire for revenge and are keenly aware of the brief window they have to achieve this goal. As such, revenants rarely waste time trying to indulge in mortal pleasures. This, of course, involves sex. Even if a revenant was a total slut or a committed lover in life, she will almost certainly not attempt to have sex as a revenant. It is not that the revenant’s sexual interest has been erased, but her desire for revenge is likely too all consuming to spend time pursuing interests rather than pursuing their killer.

Another reason revenants are seldom sexual creatures is because of their physical nature. While a revenant’s mind is perfectly preserved, her body is an animate corpse with no semblance of life besides its animation. Not only do most other mortals feel some level of revulsion around revenants, regardless of how honourable or good they might be, but most revenants also feel the same. While a revenant’s quest for revenge usually distracts her from it moments of intimacy or even simple quiet serve as stark reminders that a revenant is essentially a spirit puppeteering a fetid corpse, a situation most recognise as the horrific price they pay for the chance to achieve revenge and yet another reason to  seek vengeance swiftly, so they may depart their decrepit remains and move on to their less ill-fitting spiritual body in the afterlife.

These feelings of revulsion and duty to their path of revenge also prevents most revenants from forming or restoring romantic bonds. For a being as time conscious as a revenant, a lover is a commitment that draws energy from their pursuit. If the revenant had a wife, lover, or similar loved one who now assumedly grieves them, most revenants assume that their return as an undead cadaver would traumatise their love and break their unbeating heart. Better, most assure themselves, to let those that loved them grieve and focus on revenge. Still, revenants are one of the few undead who are not unfeeling, within whom love remains. As such, revenants often find themselves drawn to watch over their loved ones from a distance or come to their defence in disguise whenever their time allows.

Men to Revenants

Like most of their minds, becoming a revenant usually has no effect on a revenant’s opinion on men. If she saw men favourably in life, she’ll see them similarly as a revenant, with the opposite also being true. What will likely change is a revenant’s outward reaction to a man. Be it seeking his attention or plotting his downfall, most interactions with men represent a hefty investment of a woman’s immediate time. With so little of that available to them and the nature of how revenants are made meaning a revenant’s desire for revenge will always take precedence over other interests.

In the case a revenant has an unfavourable view of men in general, encountering a man will still not be enough to have her waste time or jeopardise her existing plans to harm him, with the obvious exception of if she considers the specific man to be in any way responsible for her death or he seems to be in the way of such a target. On the other hand while a revenant obsessed with men in life would still like men, the very fact she became a revenant would mean her obsession with revenge is greater, and she is unlikely to try and fuck a man unless there is literally no way for her to spend that time advancing her quest for revenge.

With how distinctly disinterested revenants are in sex, how many men would rather not fuck corporeal undead and how incredibly infertile undead are even when having sex with men. There are virtually no credible records of what happens when a man impregnates a revenant successfully. Adding to this, most revenants have less time to live than is necessary to carry a baby to term. Many some researchers into undeath imagine that the offspring of revenant would be practically identical to the mindlessly aggressive soulless undead babies birthed by regular zombies, after all, the only thing present in the womb to be combined with a man’s seed and create offspring is the necromantic magic that animates the revenant’s body, just like a zombie. Other scholars, particularly clergy of more benevolent goddesses, sometimes theorise that the offspring of a revenant would have a soul thanks to its mother being ensouled and invested with divine power. This, religious scholars claim, would result in the birth of a revenant with none to claim vengeance against who would therefore depart for the afterlife immediately.

Practically as rare as reports of revenants getting pregnant, there are incredibly few tales of male revenants, and fewer still that are reliable. At first glance this seems odd, with the dangerous, wide roaming lives most men live, and the corners of the world that can bear unearned hatred for them, many men die in ways that one may consider deeply unfair, so at least a few men should be eligible to rise as revenants. There are however a few issues that may lead men not to become revenants.

First, many men have slightly different notions of revenge to many women. If a man feels vengeful to a woman, he is more likely to wish to see her raped or broken by him than killed, making the vengeance becoming a revenant offers less appealing. There is also the issue of rejuvenation. If a revenant’s physical body is destroyed, they must find a new corpse to possess. With how Nymphona’s influence on reality and magic works, it can be assumed that revenant spirits can only possess corpses of their own sex. Unfortunately for a hypothetical male revenant, men are rare and male corpses are usually either well hidden, swiftly destroyed, or rendered into other forms of undead by depraved necromancers, making new bodies hard to come by if their old one gets destroyed. Finally, there is the matter of male undead being infertile. With how intrinsic their virility is to the state of most mortal men, the thought of going up to a year unable to impregnate anybody is in the name of simple vengeance may simply be unconscionable to the majority of most male souls.

Chapter 223: Roc

When great wings block out the sky, the most common assumption is that a dragon flies overhead. Yet the truth is that dragons are not the only titans to dominate the air. A bird of titanic size, a roc’s wings extend two hundred feet across, outgrowing even most dragons. Besides their size and overall avian build, rocs vary greatly in appearance, with plumage ranging from a simple goldish brown to shades or red, white, and even iridescent blue. Few and far between, rocs nest on isolated islands or remote mountain tops but roam far in search of food, their territories covering the span of whole nations.

Wings of Giants

If one were to simply see a picture of a roc in a book with nothing for scale, you would be hard pressed to differentiate it from an image of any other bird. Indeed, birds naturally come in all manner of sizes, from miniscule songbirds to giant eagles, large enough to carry a human aloft. It is only when sees a roc in person, flying overhead, every beat of its wings sending a soul-shaking hurricane though your bones that it becomes clear that nature alone is not responsible for their creation.

To find what gave rise to these monstrously oversized birds, one must search back into histories ancient and obscure, when the world was ruled not by people, but titans. In what may have been one of the first great wars between forces native to the Material Plane, the ancient conflict between giants and dragons was immense not only in the size of its combatants, but the scale of where these battles took place. It is often said, perhaps hyperbolically, that in those days every inch of the world was a battlefield. There was, however, one place where this battlefield put the giants at a disadvantage, that being the air. With only a handful of giants bearing natural flight capabilities and none to the efficacy of their draconic foes, cloud castles and mountaintops became isolated bastions against consent aerial assaults, with the giants unable to push back by themselves.

To resolve this problem, the giants turned to ancient magics and breeding to create airborne mounts. Said to have been born from common birds impregnated on the humongous cocks of by giant kings and subjected to rituals now forgotten, the first rocs were born with the form and flight capabilities of their avian mothers, but with size and power that exceeded even their fathers. Riding atop their new avian mounts, the giants finally attained the aerial prowess to match the dragons,  aloft on wings that could cover leagues in a few beats. Though most of the dragon fighting was done by the giant warriors that rode them, a roc’s beak is sharp enough to pierce dragonhide while her talons are not only sharp but also strong, able to hold most prey perfectly still before tearing them apart. In short, a rock with a giant rider if more than a match for most dragons and it was with the roc’s creatin that the giants were able to fight their reptilian rivals to a standstill.

As the war between dragons and giants wound down to the uneasy truce that persists to this day, rocs slowly saw less and less use by the giants, the astronomical cost of keeping such an immense steed in combat ready condition becoming less affordable as the giants’ battles became less often against dragons in the air and more often against small folk on the ground. Today, the ownership of a roc is a rare privilege afforded to stunningly few giants, consisting of a few exceptionally powerful cloud and storm giants for the most part. Roc’s who obey and belong to other kinds of giants or even non-giants are exceptionally rare, though there are a handful of such pets. Most rocs alive today live wild, the decedents of escapees who fled battlefields after their riders were slain or were freed when relative peace came. These rocs live wild, baring loyalty to nobody, not even the giants who created them who, if they are not careful, may come to resemble potential prey in the eyes of their creation.

Huge Game Hunters

Wild rocs are birds of prey, with intellect comparable to the average hunting hawk backed up by immense physical strength and natural weaponry. As such, many people, including many hardened warriors, are understandably intimidated when a roc flies overhead. However, rocs generally don’t go after humanoids unless directly provoked for the simple reason that rocs are no more malicious than natural birds and people are usually too small to be worth the trouble of hunting.

With a titanic size, rocs have an appetite to match. To chase after a bunch of human sized creatures, especially as they duck under obscuring tree canopies and into buildings, is likely to waste more energy than the morsel that a person is to a roc represents. As such, the common person may only have to fear their cattle or horses being snatched up by a roc, but this too is rare, with even the largest of normal mortal livestock being a little small by roc standards.

For their preferred food, rocs fly out to open plains, wide oceans, and other places that expose potential prey to a roc’s keen eyes. There, a roc’ hunts for the biggest of prey, including elephants, whales, dinosaurs, giant squid, and other creatures of commensurate size. Even creatures considered monstrous threats by most, such as giants, adolescent dragons, and purple worms can be considered food for a roc. A roc’s hunting strategies for most of its prey is fairly straightforward, swiftly diving upon its unsuspecting prey, the roc grasps them in its talons, holding them still and carrying them aloft, tearing them apart with beak and talon in midair, ready to drop them hundreds of feet to repeat the process should they fight back too vigorously.

Most rocs prefer to carry their prey back to their nests before eating it. A roc’s nest is a locale as titanic as its creator, built from the bones of prior kills, uprooted trees, and the shattered remains of ships, wagons, and tents. A roc’s nest is usually in an isolated, lonely place, like upon a jagged mountain peak or a remote island and is usually not worth the trouble of approaching too closely. A roc’s nest may occasionally bare treasure from the holds of vessels and the contents of trade caravans used to build it, but a roc does not horde material goods in the way dragons and certain other monsters do, often meaning there is surprisingly little to claim for the perilous journey to the roc’s lair. What is more, it is one of the few occasions a roc will attack humanoids when they dare to invade its home.

Sex and Sexuality Among Rocs

Despite being made specifically from the great sexual prowess of male giants, the sexual proclivities of rocs are surprisingly limited. This may be a matter of pure practicality. Rocs are enormous predators, and if they abided each other’s presence too gladly, they would likely devastate their local environs. A roc is also under no great pressure to fuck, while rocs are mortal and reproduce in the same way as most mortal creatures, a single roc can live for centuries, putting them in no rush to mate.

How exactly rocs determine when they wish to mate is not precisely clear to understand. The process of mating taking place every fifty years or so, a roc attracts a mate by means not fully understood. The leading theory is by song, carried for miles, deeper than any other mortal creature can hear. Seldom is this call unanswered, and a roc usually only waits upon her nest for a few days before another of her kind makes their way to find her. Sex between two rocs is, almost by necessity, a fairly restrained event, at their enormous scale, putting to much force into fucking could devastate the fortifications of their own nest and other surroundings. Mating almost always results in the resident nest owner’s pregnancy and she will, up to a tenday later, lay a clutch of two to four eggs, greenish, speckled, and as wide as a human is tall.

Like the giants who fathered the first generation of rocs, roc eggs and chicks develop slowly to accommodate their vast size. Roc eggs generally take about two full years to hatch, in which time the mother spends most of her time incubating her clutch, only flying out a short distance every now and then to snatch creatures she spots from her nest for food. In this lean period, rocs are willing to eat nearly any living creature, regardless of size, making them far more dangerous than usual. Roc’s hatch out as fluffy, flightless chicks and though they grow relatively fast on a diet of meat brought back to them by their mother, they will not attain the feathers and strength necessary to fly the nest themselves for over a decade. One may think that this makes roc chicks supremely vulnerable, and, in comparison to adults, they are, needing their mother to protect them from dragons, giants, and the like, however, while a hatchling roc cannot fly, it is over ten feet tall, tripling their size over their first year of life. Even a roc that has just escaped its eggshell is as strong as an ogre and armed with scimitar-like talons. Young rocs also consider anything that enters their nest besides their mother and siblings to be food. Once a roc is about a decade old, and gains the miraculous strength to take to the air despite its weight, it will leave to find its own territory. Still, it will not be full sized and ready to mate for itself until the end of its first century and a half.

Men to Rocs

Perhaps thanks to their origins, specifically owing their existence to male giants taking the time to fuck and impregnate ordinary birds, rocs seem to have a natural attention towards male creatures. If this attention carries any natural submissiveness to it, it is limited and likely confined mostly to giants. Male storm and cloud giants have shown an unusually level of proficiency at taming and riding rocs, while the rocs tamed by creatures not of these two kinds mostly have or had male giants of lesser races as their masters.

As far as non-giant males are concerned, rocs generally avoid preying on male creatures and do not immediately attack men who enter their nests. Still, for a male to successfully have a roc submit to getting fucked by him or tolerate his presence for a significant length of time, he must prove strong enough for her. Exhibiting the power necessary to dominate a creature as vast and mighty as a roc is no mean feat for a mortal man, and only the most legendarily powerful of men can achieve such a lofty goal, with men who fail often getting cast out of the roc’s nest rather than killed outright, though without flight of some protective magic, a fall from a roc’s nest is rarely all that survivable. When it comes to males besides giants, rocs are loyal only to power, and thus many large, male creatures can, with effort successfully earn the sexual loyalty of a roc, be they some form of great monster, a titanic beast, or an otherworldly paragon of good or evil alike. Even the rare male among dragons, the creatures that rocs were specifically bred to combat, can turn a roc into his breeding toy given sufficient power, often giving rise to terrifying half-dragon rocs to enact his will.

Of course, among the many male creatures powerful enough to impress a female roc into accepting it as a mate, male rocs are granted access with almost complete certainty. Given how few rocs exist, the number of males is incredibly low. Currently it is unknown if any male rocs live in modern times, but there have historically been enough to make note on their behaviour. With no eggs of their own to lay, male rocs generally do not have their own nests or territories, instead, they fly to where prey is most available. This also allows them to divide creatures into potential prey and potential targets to fuck. A male roc tends to fuck his chosen targets with little preamble, pinning them down with his talons and ramming his giant cock inside before they can resist. Alongside female rocs, who accept males of their kind gladly, male rocs also see giants, giant-sized monsters, and dragons as their mane targets for fucking.

While most male rocs are recorded as having most often fucked creatures of sizes commensurate to themselves and their cocks, there are records of rocs who either as a brief obsession or lifelong preference, instead chose smaller targets, swooping down to snatch up women, carrying them off to breed senseless. Many women so subjected to this fate became completely obsessed with the creature’s titanic cock, to the point of madness, forming cults that followed the bird in the hopes of it ravaging them again. The children of such women were often surprisingly similar to the children of male giants, perhaps inheriting their superior size and strength from the original ancestors of rocs. Avian traits were subtle, including small feathers growing amongst their hair, nails that grew pointed like talons, and an exceptional sense of sight.

Chapter 224: Roper

At first glance resembling a mere protrusion of rock, a roper is in fact a predatory monster whose stonelike exterior is only skin deep. Made for ambush, a roper lies in wait for days or even months at a time, waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander into range. Only then does its singular eye open and its tendrils lash out, seizing its next meal.

Cave Grappler

At first glance, a roper’s anatomy seems incredibly simple, a pointed, limbless body with a hard, rock-like carapace, which makes the monster’s body almost indistinguishable from a stalagmite when it stands still, even its breasts largely resembling a pair of ordinary boulders propped up against it. Most of a roper’s remaining anatomy, namely its eye and toothy mouth, are virtually undetectable when closed. A roper does however, possess one unique adaptation that turns it from a simple lump of armoured flesh into a viable and dangerous ambush predator. This game changing skill is the roper’s ability to generate numerous tiny, near invisibly thin hairs.

A roper can grow and manipulate these hairs from nearly any part of her body and, without legs, they form the basis of her locomotion. With thousands of these little hairs piercing the terrain and pulling in unison, the roper glides along silently. While this makes ropers fairly slow compared to their prey, they can also use these hairs to hang on to walls and ceilings. A roper can thus take the form of a stalactite and ambush prey from above.

Of course, the ability to crawl along at a snail’s pace is rarely conducive to catching prey by itself. However, the roper’s hairs can grasp more than just walls, ceilings, and floors. In six spots around a roper’s body, she can rapidly extrude hairs of significant length, reaching about fifty feet in a matter of seconds. These hairs weave together into rope like tendrils for which the roper gets its common name. when prey comes into reach, the roper’s tendrils lash out almost simultaneously, each one grabbing a different target. Just as fast, the roper, reels its captured prey towards its lethal jaws.

While virtually unnoticeable when closed, a roper’s mouth is full of hard, razor-sharp teeth. What is more, with no true limbs to speak of, almost the entirety of a roper’s not insignificant musculature is dedicated purely to bite force. As such a bite from a roper can easily rend flesh, crack bones, and even puncture metal armour given the right angle of attack. If one is grabbed by a roper, they or an ally my try to cut them free before it can drag them into range of its maw, but despite appearances, a roper’s tendrils are almost as tough as its main body and, even if one manages to sever its grip on its prey, any reprieve is temporary. Since a roper’s tendrils are not limbs in the truest sense, the loss of one is not injurious to the roper itself and can be remedied in a matter of seconds, the damaged tendril shed like a lizard’s tail and regrown from its spot on the roper’s body.

Alchemist’s Trove

As an unintended consequence of various parts of its biology, ropers are surprisingly desirable targets for alchemists, poisoners, and others who work with rare and valuable chemicals. It is for this reason that, while most adventurers simply seek to avoid a roper’s grasp, it is sometimes considered profitable for a sufficiently skilled and well-equipped party of adventurers to hunt ropers for their parts, namely their stomach and, to a lesser extent their gizzard and tendrils.

As an ambush predator, a roper relies on potential prey venturing into the reach of its tendrils of its own accord. While a roper can increase the chances of this happening by situating itself near desirable things like fresh water or edible fungi, it also has to avoid setting its ambush near things repulsive or overtly threatening to potential prey. One particular item of note would be the remains of previous victims, as a growing pile of bones and the like would quickly signal to most creatures the presence of a deadly predator.

While a roper could conceivably abandon a territory littered with signs of death in search of new pastures, but doing so costs energy and could expose her to assault while on the move. Instead, ropers hide the evidence of their kills by eating it in its entirety; flesh, bones, and all. In the event a roper’s victim happens to be a person, something ropers are far from opposed to, it will also consume any and all effects on their person, including clothes, tools, weapons, and even armour. To handle more resilient parts of its meal, ropers not only have jaws strong enough to rend plate mail, but also some of the most devastatingly caustic stomach acid known to exist, able to break down bone, metal, and even rock without issue. Acid of this power makes it an incredibly valuable solvent for breaking otherwise indestructible bonds and reducing durable materials down to their base components.

The list of items impervious to the ravages of a roper’s stomach is short. Coincidentally it also contains many items that happen to be valuable, such as platinum, gemstones, and enchanted objects. In the rare event a roper cannot digest something, it is usually transferred from its gullet to its gizzard, where it can be kept hidden until such a time the roper can regurgitate it somewhere it won’t scare prey away. Indeed, some particularly cunning ropers have learned to intentionally place valuables from their gizzard out in place sight in order to attract intelligent, treasure seeking prey into range. Otherwise, slain ropers can sometimes contain refined valuables inside them.

The remaining chemical that can be harvested from ropers is found in their tendrils. As a roper grabs hold of prey, tiny hairs from the tendrils can pierce the skin and penetrate the muscles. Amongst its prey’s tissues, a roper’s hairs break down, releasing a compound that gradually impairs the responsiveness of a victim’s limbs and muscles. This rapidly enfeebles anyone in a roper’s grasp, making it all the harder for them to escape or fight back. As a consequence of this compound’s fast acting nature, it also breaks down quickly inside a living body, its effect wearing off in mere seconds without continuous introduction of more hairs. Still, alchemists and poisoners can refine roper tendrils down into a slightly more stable state. In smaller, dilute doses, roper tendrils can make a balm that helps with spasms and other muscular issues. In higher doses however, roper tendril oil is a subtle poison that can be applied to weapons, weakening enemies as they are struck, popular both with underhanded scoundrels, but also those who wish to take prisoners alive and relatively unharmed.

Sex and Sexuality Among Ropers

When it comes to sex, ropers can breed with one another but it is not strictly necessary to the creation of more of their kind as it is for other creatures. Ropers generally dislike one another’s company and will try to ward one another off with intimidation and occasional violence, still they may occasionally fuck. What exactly encourages a pair of female ropers to have sex with one another before parting ways is not entirely clear, though it may be a matter of being evenly matched or experiencing a glut of food. In any case, in the days following a successful mating, both ropers will birth several eggs in swift succession. Even without a mate, however, ropers can lay eggs independently, albeit at a much-reduced rate, about one egg every month or so depending on how well the roper eats.

Roper eggs are, like adult roper’s disguised by their rocky exterior, resembling a roundish stone about a foot across. Ropers tend to place their eggs on the roofs of caves, where they stick and blend in with natural stone. Beyond this, ropers do little to actively assist their offspring, though a roper parent lingering around her eggs to continue ambushing potential prey may protect them unintentionally.

From being laid, ropers experience a surprisingly complex life cycle. Instead of hatching, roper eggs more so transform into the roper’s larval stage growing their breasts and vagina followed by an eye and mouth, all the while its body shifts from a round shape to a far more tapered form, resembling a stalactite. At this stage, the larval roper is known more often as a piercer, so named for its hunting method significantly different to its adult form.

In its early life, a piercer lacks the nodes that mature ropers grow their tendrils from, leaving only the smaller hairs that let them crawl around and stick to surfaces. As such, piercers cannot bring their prey to them, they must instead bring themselves to their prey despite being as painfully slow at a crawl as ropers. Much faster is the motion of gravity. As such, piercers wait for prey while high above on the ceiling, looking exactly like stalactites. When a creature moves under it, a piercer takes a moment to line herself up and releases its grip on the ceiling, aiming to drop down and skewer its target with its pointed body. Depending on how successful a piercer is, it will increase in size over only a few years, developing the nodes needed to make tendrils and become a roper at about three years old.

Men to Ropers

Perhaps thanks to sex being an optional behaviour for reproduction rather than a necessity, ropers pay little mind to the sex of other creatures and rarely hesitates to ambush a person who happens to be a man. If a man wants to fuck a roper, one will likely have to restrain it first, a challenging proposal given its great strength and flexibility. Like the younger stages of many creatures, juvenile piercers are much easier to fuck than an adult roper. Piercers are not only smaller and weaker than their adult forms but they also lack tendrils or an instinct to bite except in desperation. Instead, a piercer who fails to down her target has little defence except to crawl slowly away. Assuming a man can catch up and get a hold of it before it escapes, a piercer is all but helpless to sexual use.

Male ropers are pretty rare, though the disguised nature of ropers makes the exact numbers hard to measure. With little in the way of social instinct or capacity to form bonds, whether a male roper will try to eat or breed a female adventurer is usually a coin toss, dependant on whether he is more hungry or horny. In either case, the process is similar, the roper seizing its prey in its tendrils and dragging them towards it, only in the case it is looking to fuck, the female victim is dragged onto its hard, stony cock rather than to its jaws. Survivors of male roper attacks often give birth to children with stone coloured skin and an often-adhesive grasp.

Chapter 225: Rust Monster

Bane of warriors, desolator of strongholds, and ruiner of dwarves, rust monsters are quadrupedal, wolf sized, roughly insectoid monsters that owe their fearsome reputation among adventurers, particularly those of a more martial bent, not to being particularly fearsome or deadly, at least as far as other monsters go, but for the unique way a rust monster’s instincts can lead her to leave a combatant utterly debilitated and defenceless, destroying weapons, armour, and equipment at the slightest touch.

Eaters of Iron

A rust monster can deliver quite a nasty bite if it is attacked and it is quite possible for a rust monster to maul an underequipped individual to death under some circumstances. However, unlike many monsters a band of adventurers may find themselves under attack by, a rust monster has no interest in devouring their flesh, or any flesh for that matter. The rust monster possesses a remarkably unique diet composed entirely of iron. Able to somehow sustain its organic body entirely on inorganic metal, a rust monster’s senses are fine tuned to the scent of iron, able to pinpoint an iron nail hidden in haystack without effort. This precise sensitivity draws rust monsters towards passing bands of adventurers with their steel weapons and armour.

Technically, rust monsters are not the only metal eating creatures, manticores, black puddings, and gorgons will consume an adventurer’s armour just as readily as the rest of them. However, most of these monsters slay an adventurer first and then peel the armour from their remains afterwards, often using a combination of tremendous bite force, greater leverage over a corpse, and shear persistence to rend bits off.  A rust monster is different, its interest in the flesh holding or wearing the metal is non-existent save for how to remove said meal from it.

Among metal eating monsters, there are essentially two methods of consuming metal; one is simply to employ a titanically powerful bite force, the other is some sort of chemical influence, typically an incredibly corrosive acid. Rust monsters primarily adopt the latter method, though rust monsters are far more precise in the force they apply. On either side of its mouth, a rust monster possesses a pair of long, flexible antennae feathered with dense plumes of special hairs. In contact with most materials, including living flesh, these hairs are inert and harmless. However, when simply brushed against it, these hairs cause ferrous metals and its alloys to immediately and rapidly corrode. It takes only a few strokes of a rust monster’s antennae to reduce a full sit of plate armour into crumbling, flaking rust that can easily be broken down and consumed by its mediocre bite.

Since rust monsters will go for literally any ferrous item, including those being worn or carried by other creatures, they can be real threat to adventurers that rely on metal armour or weapons. A rust monster would, by preference, simply eat the armour off a warrior’s body and then leave them be, only attacking the warrior directly if they retaliate to its feeding with violence or try to flee with the rust monster’s meal still on them. While a rust monster’s exoskeleton isn’t the toughest armour and their bite is, as mentioned, not the most devastating force a monster can deliver, but driving a rust monster off is still not an easy, course of action for they have a unique defence. A rust monster’s blood has the same corrosion causing properties on ferrous metals as their antennae. As such, a few good hits upon a rust monster can turn one’s sword into a lump of red in one’s hand. As such, regardless of how one does, joining battle against a rust monster will usually have one battle their next foes with severely damaged gear or else spending a fortune to repair and replace what was lost.

Scavengers of Industry

While feeding primarily on iron, rust monsters lack the strength and proper anatomy to extract ore directly from the ground. As such, the activities of civilisation attract rust monsters from far and wide. While of a low, bestial intellect, rust monsters are intelligent enough to eventually figure out that simply galumphing into a town and destroying their tools and infrastructure will swiftly get them attacked and while a rust monster may fight back against small groups, it would rather not engage with a large population as such, rust monsters tend to focus their attention on secluded or abandoned locales, scooping up the abandoned scrap before moving on.

Most traditional locks and seals do little to perturb a rust monster, who can simply rust the locking mechanism away or, failing that, eat at a door’s hinges and fittings until the thing collapses. As such, a rust monster can appear almost anywhere that people once lived, including a great many ruins, sewers, and dungeons, wherein most adventurers have their unfortunate run ins.

One particularly popular spot for a rust monster is within the twisting caves that can form a mine, particularly if it is a mine that specialises in iron ore which, once a vein is exposed, a rust monster can consume just as well as smelted iron. Even if a mine specialises in harvesting something other than iron, the heavy equipment and infrastructure that comes with mining normally means a rust monster will not be short on food. Of course, miners seldom take kindly to having their tools and the fruits of their labour stolen. Dwarves, those most well known of miners, even have their own specialised branch of warriors trained in repelling rust monsters, armed with stout wooden staved and armour made from monster scales.

A slightly grimmer practice of rust monsters is to follow the trail of violence between warring people. Be it trailing a party of adventurers or sweeping onto a battlefield once the chaos ends, a rust monster can devour the arms and armour of the fallen. Combined with more traditional scavengers, a rust monster can virtually erase the evidence of combat in a matter of hours or days. Of course, a force that leaves several fallen enemies in their wake may end up with a veritable horde of rust monsters following them. Should the victorious party slow down enough for their followers to catch up, such as to lay siege or take a few days rest, they may suddenly find themselves raided from behind, their weapons and armour ruined before their next encounter.

Sex and Sexuality Among Rust Monsters

When it comes to sexual habits, rust monsters are fairly straightforward when it comes to reproduction. Rust monsters are generally solitary. If two stumble into one another, their response generally reflects the ambient supply of food. If food is scarce, they will likely fight one another, if food is plentiful, they are more likely to tolerate each other’s presence and may even mate. Rust monsters have no distinct mating season, after all there is no time of year iron is more or less prevalent, instead rust monsters just fuck when they feel like it. Once a pair of rust monsters have mated, they tend to immediately go their separate ways, one or both of them being pregnant.

Despite their insectoid appearance, rust monsters do not lay eggs. Instead, a rust monster carries her pregnancy for anywhere from four to seven months, depending on food availability and then gives birth to a single live pup, generally resembling an adult rust monster in miniature. Once born, a young rust monster stays with its mother for protection but nurses very little from her tits, being ready to rust and eat iron from birth. Only at around a year old, as the rust monster reaches maturity, does the offspring depart from its mother.

Men to Rust Monsters

Regardless of gender, a rust monster’s eyes are always more on the metals on an adventurer’s person than on the adventurer themselves. A rust monster facing a man will be more interested in rusting and consuming his sword or his chainmail than either adoring or reviling his cock. As such, the perils a rust monster offers a man are about the same as it would be for a woman of his skills and equipment, though armour losses can be slightly more expensive for a man for the simple fact that smiths are often not practiced in forging replacement armour for the male physique, causing them to sometimes charge more for the finished product.

However, when not occupied with feeding, rust monsters are, in fact, fairly docile creatures. An individual not equipped with metal will likely be left alone and allowed to go about their business by a rust monster, who won’t attack unless it is attacked first. This calmness also makes rust monsters much more accepting of sexual overtures from men and most are perfectly happy to let a man fuck her, particularly if she is occupied by some iron as he starts to fuck her. That being said, rust monsters do seem to consistently choose iron over being fucked by a man if both are available. If there is a nearby source of iron a rust monster cannot reach while a man fucks her, such as armour he is wearing, she will try to struggle out of his hold to get at it.

Sometimes, the sexual permissiveness of rust monsters leads a man to try and tame one. This is not an impossible task and is not a partnership unique to men, with plenty of orcs, goblins, and other minimally metal adorned races keeping rust monsters as war beasts against their more heavily armoured foes. However, male rust monster keepers find an additional use for their metal-eating companions, particularly if the man if fond of fucking his enemies in the field. A rust monster can quickly not only disarm a man’s foe, but also rapidly disintegrate any metal armour protecting her body from sexual assault, with some men’s rust monsters even being trained to rip apart the remaining leather and cloth garments with their teeth once the armour is gone.

As monstrosities, rust monsters do occasionally produce males of their kind. Male rust monsters have the unique benefit among humanoid-hunting monsters that they do not have to choose between a meal and a living pussy to breed. Generally drawn to armoured warriors, a male rust monster’s goals are much the same as any other of his kind’s, striking the warrior’s weapons and armour with his antennae until she is stripped and virtually helpless. The rust monster can then devour what remains of what once protected her while also pumping his cock into her exposed, defenceless pussy. The resulting offspring born of these unions generally inherit mostly axillary traits from their mother such as armoured skin and vision in the dark. Only a select handful of rust monster born humanoids inherit their monstrous father’s rusting touch.

Chapter 226: Sahuagin

Found mostly in coastal waters, sahuagin are aquatic menaces to ships, costal settlements, and the most of all the aquatic life. While some may call sahuagin people with features of sharks, such as their green-blue hide, fins, gills, and innumerable triangular teeth, it may be more accurate to describe them as sharks given features of humanoid form, namely their clawed limbs, ability to make brief excursions above the waves, and just about enough self-awareness to be called intelligent. Sahuagin live together in communes swimming out on single minded missions to rend and devour anything in and near their territory that fails to match their predatory view of perfection, especially the sea elves, their most hated enemies.

Sea Devils

The most widely believed origin of sahuagin, believed by most sahuagin and their enemies, is tied up with the arrival of the elves on the Material Plane. While many elves took to forests and plains, a select group saw the beauty of the ocean and decided that they would live there. With the help of the elven sea goddess Deep Sashelas, these elves became the first sea elves, able to breathe and live happily in their new aquatic home. As well as the ability to simply live in water, sea elves were also gifted with the power to communicate with all manner of aquatic creatures, befriending and, to an extent, controlling all manner of dolphins, fish, and sharks.

This imposition outraged a goddess by name of Sekolah, a deific shark that dwells in the oceans of Stygia, fifth layer of the Nine Hells. In response, Sekolah took a number of her shark children and imbued them with vestiges of intelligence, arms for greater dexterity, and legs to allow them to venture onto land for a while, at least a few hours before their gills dry out. These creatures, the first sahuagin, were created with the express purposes of punishing all creatures who sought to usurp ocean mastery from Sekolah, a purpose sahuagin still serve diligently to this day.

Sahuagin live in underwater compounds often set up in sunken ruins, underwater caves, or repurposed shipwrecks, in groups that can be anywhere from a half dozen to hundreds of individuals. In the glassy, black eyes of a sahuagin there are only three things that matter when it comes to respect and status, adherence to the designs and dictates of their goddess Sekolah, physical size, and shear murderous power.

For the first matter, a sahuagin’s adherence to their creator is not measured only in blind worship at the many undersea shrines of Sekolah, built by the sahuagin and festooned with the treasures and entrails of their victims, but also in how they physically measure up to what the upper echelons of the group think best represents the original, intended form Sekolah made for them. Virtually no deviation is tolerated among the sahuagin, a pup that displays even the smallest fault, be that the wrong shade to their rough, leathery skin, a disproportionate length to their claws, or even the slightest misarrangement of their fins, will be torn apart by the adults without mercy.

One of the few mutations sahuagin sometimes tolerate is a pup bearing an extra pair of arms alongside the ordinary pair. This deviation of the standard form normally signals the sahuagin will grow into a much larger specimen of their kind, with the hull-smashing strength to match. These sahuagin, known to other races as baronesses, often dominate common sahuagin as they grow up and may even become leaders of all their more common brethren, all that is, save the priestesses. though physically resembling an ordinary sahuagin, save the distinctively ragged robes and shark tooth amulets they wear as vestments, sahuagin priestesses are such perfect representations of the ideal that Sekolah intended for their race that the goddess of sharks invests them with divine powers to heal wounds and destroy her enemies. With direct favour from Sekolah herself, no sahuagin dares to question the priestesses’ place at the top of their hierarchy.

Within these three overall social classes a sahuagin can only gain additional upward mobility is to kill. From raids on coastal towns to simply snatching a wounded fish out of the water in front of them, sahuagin keep precise mental note of every killing they are party to, including the difficulty of the battle, the numbers slain, and the brutality of the methods used. These records are reported back to a priestess who, through her wisdom and divine connection to Sekolah, determines which of several dozen social rankings the sahuagin deserves. Since languishing at a low rank will likely get a sahuagin bullied forced into arduous tasks, or even killed for weakness, sahuagin are not only naturally, but also socially compelled to go out in search of enemies of Sekolah to kill and devour.

Thankfully the list of creatures that Sekolah considers an enemy is long indeed. Chief on that list are the sea elves, whose seaward incursion initially prompted Sekolah’s ire. Sahuagin are also naturally hateful of dolphins, who are said to be servants of Deep Sashelas. Second to this are most other kinds of intelligent marine life, such as merfolk; though sahuagin may occasionally work with other evil sea creatures like merrow and aquatic trolls against a more hated foe, such alliances are generally brief and rife with betrayal. Despite how known they are for clambering onto passing ships or raiding ports in the dead of night, landbound folk are only third on most sahuagin’s list of hated enemies and they will usually only lay waste above the waves once they have thoroughly infested the surrounding ocean.

In truth almost anything a sahuagin can get her hands on will be killed. The only creatures sahuagin hesitate to assault are other sahuagin, though they will fight among themselves should their terse and brutal negotiations fall through, and sharks. As the true and preferred children of Sekolah, sharks are sacred animals to sahuagin, and virtually nothing can compel a sahuagin to do a shark harm; most would rather die. In return for this forbearance and adoration sahuagin are gifted with a natural telepathic bond with sharks, a grim reflection of the power Deep Sashelas gifted the sea elves that allows the sahuagin to communicate to their bestial kin directly, most sahuagin communities will have several sharks allied to it, kept as pets, aquatic hunting hounds, and beasts of ritualistic execution of both prisoners and traitors alike.

The Blood Frenzy

For their reputations as wild, bestial revengers, sahuagin are surprisingly tactical. In their aquatic camps, sahuagin train in long and complex drills with not only their claws and teeth, but also bone spears, woven nets, and tethered harpoons. The leaders of the sahuagin, the priestesses and baronesses in concert, also work together to concoct complex strategies, with even the common sahuagin often possessed of a tactical knowledge that can surprise most of their foes. All of this wit and precision, however, can only take the sahuagin so far, for as intelligent as they are, a sahuagin’s rational mind rarely survives the first five seconds of combat.

Like a regular shark, sahuagin are incredibly sensitive to the smell of blood. Not only can they track a wounded victim for miles, but close exposure to a bleeding creature has profound influence on sahuagin’s instincts. Being within thirty feet of potential prey suffering some form of injury causes a sahuagin’s already dark eyes to glaze over, her voice to become incoherent snarling, and her every action dedicated towards deadly and brutal violence. While a sahuagin’s mind doesn’t truly leave them in these moments, still diligently taking note of the kills that they perform to report in hopes of promotion, their body is completely disconnected from it. Most sahuagin recognise this effect, known as the blood frenzy as a blessing from Sekolah, making their attacks even more powerful and savage until their victims are dead and devoured. On the other hand, this complete lack of self-control in the middle of a fight makes it monumentally difficult for a sahuagin to make herself take prisoners alive, retreat when battles turn against them, or reign themselves in when a battle is over. Indeed, if a group of sahuagin run out of prey to kill and bodies to devour before their blood frenzy wears off, they can end up turning on one another.

Sahuagin accept the drawbacks of their blood frenzy and take them into account in their strategies, relying on scouts to figure out when potential victims will be alone and unable to benefit from reinforcements. In short, sahuagin prefer battles where their victory is all but guaranteed before they dive in and let the frenzy take them. The existence of the blood frenzy also influences the sahuagin outside of combat, however.

For as brutal and uncaring for each other as sahuagin are, there is shockingly little violence in their societies. As a race for whom any amount of physical violence between members is all but guaranteed to become a mindless battle to the death, sahuagin take great pains to avoid unnecessarily provoking conflict with each other. Sahuagin maintain a respectful distance of a spear length from one another and virtually never touch unless absolutely necessary, so as to never be mistaken for attacking when they’re not. When two sahuagin meet, they immediately state their given ranks and the lesser defers to the superior without hesitation.

Sahuagin are also surprisingly civil, if direct and terse, when it comes to settling differences. When two sahuagin disagree on something, they seek to settle it via calm and measured debate. Evidence is given with accurate sources listed from their near encyclopaedically accurate memories. Only if the pair cannot come to an agreement and are unable to tolerate simply agreeing to disagree do they jointly submit to the blood frenzy and try to kill each other. While sahuagin do understand deceit and may even try to deceive sahuagin of rival clans from time to time, they will never lie to win a debate, nor to a superior they owe their fealty, for such actions risk plunging the whole community into a self-destructive maelstrom. Unfortunately, one is unlikely to experience any of this surprising civility from sahuagin unless one is a member of their kind. In their eyes, all creatures other than themselves and the sharks from which they developed are prey, affronts to Sekolah’s purity, and thus worthy only of immediate and savage destruction.

Sex and Sexuality Among Sahuagin

As a race weary of even touching one another, it should be uprising that sex is a matter sahuagin approach only very carefully. Still, they are mortal creatures and one of Sekolah’s commands to them was to multiply until no corner of the ocean is safe from their wrath, so sex is still very much a necessity. As a result, sahuagin manage their reproductive needs in much the same way as they do all other non-murderous aspects of their lives, through tightly controlled civil traditions.

In the razor focused, half-primitive mind of a sahuagin, there is little concept of matters such as love, romantic attraction, or lust. Therefore, instead of forming relationships, sahuagin mate in rotation with virtually every other member of their pack in sequence. These pairings have nothing to do with ranking or relationships, the sahuagin consider any member of their kind durable enough to make it to sexual maturity alive to have demonstrated themselves to be strong enough to be worthy of breeding. What is more this essentially randomised mating also prevents the formation of familial lineages, a concept sahuagin consider to be a weakness born of sentiment in other races.

Sahuagin are notably rather unresponsive in sex, this inaction seeming to be so as to prevent extraneous excitement that may be mistaken as violence by their partner. In any case, sex usually leads to one or both sahuagin becoming pregnant. Pregnant sahuagin are fairly unburdened by their pregnancy, laying one or two leathery eggs every week for a period of around a year. Laid eggs are placed inside a communal hatchery alongside eggs laid at around the same time. hatcheries are generally sealed with up to a couple hundred eggs inside and guarded but otherwise not attended.

Sahuagin eggs hatch after about a year, but the adults generally do not free them from their chamber until a few weeks later. As such, to avoid starving, the young sahuagin pups must prey on each other, encouraging only the strongest to survive. On being freed, the sahuagin pups are inspected by the local priestesses judged for any apparent defect against Sekolah’s design. Defective pups are immediately killed, but those that pass inspection are taken in and drilled harshly in the ways of combat, society, and the demands of  their goddess, with missteps at any time possibly leading to the pup’s death, normally ensuring that only the hardiest and most fervently consumed by Sekolah’s cult reach physical maturity at ten years old.

Men to Sahuagin

The relationship sahuagin have to males is complicated, but on the whole not good. When it comes to males of other kinds, a sahuagin generally could not care less. Judging by relation to Sekolah before sex, a male human or merman or elf is no more a worthy mate than a female of their kind would be. With little instinct for lust, masculinity struggles to sway a female sahuagin into compliance. A man is simply prey in a sahuagin’s eyes.

Though the omnicidal aggression sahuagin display to creatures outside their kind makes it hard to tell if they have any particular hatred for men specifically, their treatment of their own kind paints a rather grim view. In the eyes of sahuagin priestesses, masculinity is a defect, different enough from them to justify immediate destruction on discovery. As such, male sahuagin very rarely, if ever, make it to adulthood. Curiously, those that do almost always bear the mutations for a giant size and extra arms seen in baronesses, leading them to be described as barons. Whether masculinity tends to coincide with this mutation, or if it is simply a matter of barons being the only males born powerful enough to successfully flee a priestess’ murderous jaws is unknown.

Even as adults, male sahuagin are seldom welcomed among their own kind. As such, most roam the oceans as lone nomads. Finding a diverse array of sexual partners is often difficult for a male sahuagin, since, while more lustful than female sahuagin are still taken by the blood frenzy. Therefore, if a creature forces a male sahuagin to use violence against her rather than complying readily, his instincts will sooner have him kill and eat her than mate with her. Still, while male sahuagin are rejected by their own kind, they retain their link to Sekolah’s other children. Sharks are normally all too willing to mate with and follow a male sahuagin wherever he may go, and he may eventually find himself at the head of a migratory shoal of sharks of all shapes and sizes.

Curiously, such pairings are also fairly common the other way around. Despite their detestation of male sahuagin, female sahuagin seem to adore male sharks, often treating them as divine emissaries of Sekolah herself. A male shark that sticks around a pack of sahuagin will usually be considered the personal pet and companion of that pack’s highest ranked priestess, who forgoes her sahuagin birthing duties in order to focus on birthing as many full-blooded sharks as possible.

Sahuagin also seem not to be fervently hateful of men, at least not to the level drow and other famously misandrist races are. In the survival focused mind of a sahuagin, actively choosing to die rather than submit to a man is foolishness to the extreme. Indeed, a sahuagin will not even be ashamed to admit a man overpowered and impregnated her if that were the factual truth. Sahuagin are even willing to raise eggs born of non-sahuagin impregnation, figuring that if the union causes the pups to bee in any way defective, that can be easily discovered and amended when they hatch. Of course, this compliance is all contingent on the incredibly difficult task of proving oneself a credible threat to a sahuagin’s life before the blood frenzy overtakes her. Additionally, one should take care when fucking a sahuagin, she is unlikely to have qualms about using her bite and her claws to attack when you are most exposed.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Tales from Nymphona