A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 42: Party

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future. All characters that engage in sexual or suggestive situations are mentally and sexually mature: the human equivalent of 18 for their race.

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Episode 42: Another Party

"Wait- two humans, an elf, a dwarf, and a halfling?" Ashyr asked after her new A.I. pocket dimension companion announced their presence. Her mind reached out towards Bard to see if he had a feel for what was going on. The wolf was chasing a rat or a flash of light or a shadow as far as she could tell. That wasn't too helpful. "That's four more people than I was expecting..."

Ashyr grabbed her belt with her weapons, left the excessively barricaded room, and hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time. If they weren't already inside the building, Ashyr stationed herself in the doorway to the side entrance of the building where she could see any who came up to the building. Indeed, the group approaching the storehouse did not number either one, or three, but seven. Althaia proudly marched out front, wearing only slightly impractical armor (way too much cleavage, otherwise sensible) and mostly looking like the ordinary archetypal paladin: white cloak, silver armor, sword at her side, shield at her back, emanating a noticeable aura of courage and goodness. She was almost heartbreakingly beautiful, but despite the cleavage, less overtly sexual than before.

The Yuan-ti was still artfully nondescript, the sort of fellow who could be seen anywhere, largely unnoticeable, and extremely forgettable. Most would be hard put to to even describe the brown-haired and eyed man in dully shaded craftsman's clothing, for once the eyes left him, so did the mind. In contrast, the woman at his side with hair an ever more vibrant shade of red was extremely memorable. Without Althaia there, Cieraela would have been seen as a rare beauty, and even by the side of the nymph, she seemed more real. Clearly, her apprenticeship had done wonders for her. Even in her townswoman's dress, she walked with an air of pleased confidence that she had not had before.

The other four were the opposite of subtle. If one were to make a book about treasure hunting and illustrate the pages with the archetypal adventurers, well, they would be exactly it. The Elf was a tragically underclad, but somehow still regal wizardess; the bearded Dwarf wore heavy armor and hefted an oversized ax; the giggling Halfling wore tight leather armor that seemed to be far more for ease of movement and display of curves than for protection (although she wore a harp at her back rather than blades); and the brilliantly smiling human, shield and mace at his back, holy sigil around his neck, was clearly both a cleric and the charismatic leader of the group.

Althaia strode up to the door with a beaming smile on her face. "I have made quite a few new friends!" She said cheerfully. She turned to the group. "I'll meet you again in town. Neither our factotum nor the local security system will be pleased to have new people tramping through the old storage facility."

The cleric made an exaggerated bow. "Your wish is our command, fairest of maidens." The wizardess raised an eyebrow at the human. "Err... I mean, 'fair maiden'."

"Your first description was more accurate." The elf said dryly. "Logically speaking, not even I can hold a candle to a nymph."

Althaia giggled. "You flatter me. But neither description is true. Whether 'fairest' or merely 'fair', I am hardly a maiden."

"Do not try to enter the monastery without my apprentice and I." The disguised yuan-ti said flatly. "We will know if you do."

"Would not dream of it." Althaia said cheerfully. She waved them away as the group returned to the town. She turned back to Ashyr. "So... rituals?"

Ashyr leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, her expression flat and unamused. She watched the exchange between the other party of adventurers and the nymph, ready at any moment to fight. In her experience, adventurers were never good news for her or the drow. They had a tendency to waltz in where they didn't belong and try to enforce their strange idea of social order. And they had the unfortunate habit of trying to kill her on sight just because she was a dark elf.

"Gather yourself a new harem?" Ashyr asked, ignoring the ritual question for now. Her expression was still mostly flat, but she couldn't mention the word 'harem' without a hint of a naughty smile.

"Sadly, none of those people are really into me." Althaia responded. "Certainly I may have slept with Cieraela - again - but she is into her dreams of Caleldir more than me. It helps that he is also a nymph, and a male one at that. The poor girl remains utterly obsessed with him despite not knowing him at all." She shrugged. "Slasjowskew Slitherscar, as the Yuan-ti is named, well, he is immune to my charms. His only love appears to be his career of ever more improbably heists."

The nymph looked at the departing group. "Then you have those four... and between them they have such a confused dynamic of loves, lusts, flirtations, and competitions that if it were not for the fact that the two men are definitely not into each other, honestly I would not rule out any possible combination. At any rate, all the Unresolved Sexual Tension there is too beautiful a thing to be upset by one such as me. I could probably get them to, well, 'resolve' things, by which I mean that..." she stopped. "Eh, I will tell you later. Anyway, I think it best if we not get involved with those four. Seeing as they do not want to go into the monastery, their goal was one of the safer ruins around here for some dreadfully epic and clichéd kingdom-saving quest or another, we can discount them after tomorrow. But the little roguish bard has some... interesting tales you may be interested in hearing. Some of them are about Caleldir, after all."

"Immune to your charms, you say?" Ashyr said. A wider smirk spread across her face. "Perhaps he has nothing to charm." The drow had no idea how his particular race bred. "Or maybe he only wants the human." Perhaps that would be even more amusing, considering how enamored with Caleldir the human was.

"Yuan-ti have normal sexual relationships. Well, relatively speaking. The females lay eggs after intercourse, you know." Althaia responded. "Slas just stole immunity to mind-altering effects from some goddess or another. I think you could peg his orientation as mostly asexual, should that be necessary."

"Ah. Pity." Ashyr sighed. Beyond the sexual preferences of the two she already knew, Ashyr didn't give a damn. Theirs was by no means a new story. Althaia was right in assuming that Ashyr would be interested about tales concerning Caleldir. Ashyr made a mental note to pursue that later. Ashyr pushed herself off of the doorframe and assumed a more relaxed posture. She yawned expansively again before turning back into the building. "You might have guessed this was the nymph I was talking about, Storwa. This is Althaia." She turned a conspirator's eye towards the paladin. "I think you'll get along very well." Her last comment pulled one of her more normal mischievous grins across her lips.

"Nice to meet you, 'Storwa'." Althaia said.

[Likewise, Althaia.] The base replied. [I will be your new travel assistant. I hope to be of use.]

"Good to hear." The nymph said cheerfully. "Anyways, Slas and Ciera have been journeying with those four for convenience through this haunted land. I found them shortly before Bard found me, and Slas insisted that I bring him to where the rest of the group was to make sure that I was not just a distraction or some nonsense. The serpentine fellow is really, really anxious to raid that monastery."

"Ah. Well, I have an interesting story to tell you." Ashyr informed Althaia in a conspirator's tone. "But it's a secret. Everyone else is not to know." She continued in a softer voice as she approached the main room where Selene and Caleldir worked.

The nymph nodded equally as conspiratorially. "I like secrets, I admit." She said.

Bard ran into the storehouse soon after Althaia entered. He was excited about a magical teleporting, incorporeal... thing that he couldn't quite catch, and wanted his mistress' help with the task. Ashyr got the distinct sense that it was a beam of light that moved with the wind through the branches of a tree or tattered cloth. "Calm down, you silly wolf." She told him with an affectionate tousle of his ears.

"Ashyr! There you are. I think we're about ready for you." Selene exclaimed with a tired but excited tone.

The older drow yawned again before she could answer. Lolth, she was still so tired. "What do you need from us?"

With a smile and a bounce, Althaia strode into the room as well. "I am back!" She said with enthusiasm. Well, by her standards it was rather subdued enthusiasm. She had calmed down a bit after dying, it seemed.

Caleldir ran his fingers through his shaggy black hair. "I should get this trimmed." He muttered. Looking up at the three women, he gave them a solemn smile. "Well, simply put, we are going to put a last-ditch deathward on all of you, including Bard. When you receive a blow that might otherwise have killed you, instead you will go into catatonic healing state and be shunted to an empty layer of the ethereal plane. That way, with my connection to said plane, I can pull you back out no harm done when the danger is past. This will only work once for each of you before we have to cast it again, though, so try not to die twice."

Casting the ritual in question on Ashyr, Althaia, and Bard did not very long. It was mostly finished already, and of course Selene had already been warded.

Once that step was done, Caleldir continued. "As for Bard, well, this spell will make him much, much tougher (resistance to physical damage and magical effects), turning him into a Direwolf of great power, as well as enhancing his senses to allow him to function in the Underdark. Unlike the other, this magic is permanent. I do not think it will change his appearance (beyond eventually making him far larger than normal, but that will take time) but as I said before, there is a small chance of some alternate effects appearing. Possibly an increase in intellect to sapience levels and making him effectively a non-mage familiar, or perhaps give him a fireball spell. Or make him smell like old roses. The effects are random, after all."

He gave the happy adolescent wolf a fond look. "Well, are you ready?"

The doglike wolf bounced in place. He clearly thought that this was a fun game, or at least was going to be. "Go on, then. Sit. Stay." Ashyr ordered her companion from her place leaned passively against a wall. Her expression was vaguely amused.

Bard did as he was asked, and somehow managed to remain patient throughout the process. Ashyr felt the difference as soon as it was finished, though on the outside Bard looked no different. Well, actually, he might have been just a little bigger, and a little more muscular. The difference the ranger felt, however, was more sensory. It was as if she could smell, hear, and see just a little bit better. "Good job, boy." Ashyr praised him as the ritual came to a close and he managed to be obedient throughout the process.

Caleldir gave the young direwolf a looking over. "Perfect success." He said with satisfaction. "This is only a guess, but I think that the random effect that the ritual had was to spell-charge him. Basically, we casters can use him as a repository for a small number of spells: spells which Ashyr will then be able to cast through him. Not the most powerful effect possible, but perhaps it will be of use in the future."

"So, um, I think we may have a new addition to our party." Ashyr told the rest of them after Bard trotted away, self-satisfied. Ashyr looked up and around the storehouse in general. She decided that she would introduce the topic, but let Storwa explain the rest how she wanted it explained.

Caleldir turned to give Ashyr an odd look. "Oh?" He said questioningly. "If you are speaking of the Yuan-ti and my unwanted admirer, then I am aware of them."

[She is not.] The base said. [I apologize, Master Librarian, but I am currently in the process of shifting my inventory into the Deep Vaults. You see, I serve no purpose here, guarding the riches of a civilization twelve hundred years gone. So I am coming with you. I have created a pocket dimension that I will sculpt into a secure place for rest and storage. It is accessed through a figurine that I have entrusted to Ashyr. The figurine is the morphed version of my Animation Orb. I hope to be of service to you on your travels.]

Caleldir pursed his lips. "The Deep Vaults? Well, no one will be able to get to them there except us I suppose. So I do not see any issues with that course of action. Now, let me see what you can do..."

Storwa asked Ashyr to demonstrate the portal, and provided the same explanation as she had given the drow earlier. This time, she allowed the group to briefly step inside the pocket space. As before, the small-ish room was completely unadorned, although comfortable and serviceable. The A.I. and Caleldir had a brief talk in their own language, one that the rest of the party could hardly follow, but it seemed to be mostly technical in nature. The A.I. certainly was not discussing her succubus corruption.

When the demonstration was over, and Storwa had returned to figurine form, Caleldir looked quite pleased. "I admit that I am quite proud of your development." He said happily. "You have evolved far beyond what we made you. But... you are no longer Storehouse One, are you? No, Storwa is far too pedestrian of a name for what you have become. You need a new designation." He thought for a moment. "How about Roving Intellectual Security Animation, or R.I.S.A. for short?"

[I like that name.] R.I.S.A. said with satisfaction. [It is certainly more like a real name than Storwa.]

"Well then, welcome aboard, R.I.S.A." Caleldir said with satisfaction.

"How did you come to be in possession of... this?" Selene asked Ashyr with obvious curiosity. She, too, looked pleased with R.I.S.A's new use for the party.

"There was some physical work that needed to be done that Stor- R.I.S.A. couldn't manage on her own." Ashyr explained with a shrug. The nature of said physical work went unexplained. She wanted to laugh at the thought of just how physical they had to be. Instead, she continued her explanation. "And I think she needed to be effectively soulbound to someone in order to be truly mobile." The ranger didn't know enough about magic to try to explain further.

[Well, not exactly soulbound.] R.I.S.A. said. [But... eh, close enough. The Master Librarian no doubt can inform you of the specifics.]

Caleldir shrugged. "It is involved. I can give Selene the details of the arcana at a later date. For now, let us return to the inn. Because if I am not mistaken, we are supposed to meet up with a serpentine fellow there."

The younger drow nodded. It made sense. Ashyr was only acting a little weird about it. That could mean anything with her somewhat eccentric older cousin.

"Yes, let's go rest up. I'm exhausted." Ashyr told the rest of the party. For once, when speaking about going to bed, her voice was not even remotely dripping with innuendo as it usually did. She'd had enough sex for the day, thank you. "Come on Bard." She said as she turned to leave the building.

With that, the party left the storehouse. The moment they stepped outside, the lights within went red, warning sirens sounded, and the door slammed shut. Then the hillside came crashing down, burying the entrance. Then the bubbled and twisted unnaturally, until there was no indication that anything was ever there.

[Farewell, Storehouse One.] R.I.S.A. said affectionately. [I may miss you one day. But certainly not for a few decades. Let us look towards the future.]

--

By the time that the last rays of the sun were disappearing behind the horizon, the group stepped into the inn. In the main room there sat the expected six. Cieraela spoke cheerfully with the Halfling bard, and Slasjowskew morosely smoked off in the corner, being nondescript. The rest of the group were being pretty stereotypical: the wizardess was creating some scrolls, the dwarf was polishing his axe, and the cleric was praying.

Caleldir met Cieraela's green eyes. The human girl lit up like a torch, which put him ill at ease. "I will be heading upstairs." He whispered. "This group worries me. Well, part of this group." He slipped away.

Upon seeing the veritable crowd of people in the common room, Selene frowned hard. She'd had her own excessively annoying run-ins with adventuring types and didn't care to socialize with this particular group. "I'm going to head up as well." Selene likewise whispered to the rest of the group. Then she did as she said and followed Caleldir up to their room.

Ashyr grinned at her two lovers as they departed from the rest of the group. Perhaps they would engage in other acts which both of them found entertaining. The older drow was all-for giving the two of them more alone time. She felt it was good for Selene at the very least. They could have a positive impact on each other.

Cieraela initially looked pleased when she saw Caleldir head upstairs, seeming as if she was about to stand. Then Selene followed the half-nymph up the stairway, and her entire body sagged. She sat back down heavily, crossed her arms underneath her breasts, and looked rather broody. If it had been the wild-haired drow, or better yet, the nymph, who went upstairs, she would have eagerly gone with them, but she sensed that the noble dark elf would not be pleased to see her. So she would have to flirt with the object of her crush later.

Althaia, at least, looked pleased to see the other party. She ran over to the Halfling and took her little hand in her much bigger one. "Petunia!" She said excitedly. "This is the drow that I was talking about. She is interested in some of your stories."

Cieraela's ears perked up with the mention of Caleldir's name. "Oh? Stories about Caleldir?" She said with sudden interest.

"Hello Petunia." Ashyr said. She was clearly tired, but not too tired to hear stories of her favorite person. Ashyr settled down with a deep, satisfied sigh into a chair near the little person. It was nice to sit. "Yeah, heard you know something about Caleldir or the Master Librarian or whatever you want to call him." The second name she said with a smirk. It seemed odd to call Caleldir master of anything for some reason.

Petunia frowned a bit. "I have never heard that name, Caleldir." She said. "But, yeah, I do know some tales about the Master Librarian of the Monastery of Eternity, or, as he is more often called, The Librarian Master of Ghosts. Beautiful and terrible beyond description he is said to be, a creature of cruelty and sadism, taking delight in destroying adventurers, and a sadistic glee in tormenting women. The more beautiful the adventuress, the more he torments her, toying with them for hours or days before he finally destroys them. In fact, another one of the great Lords of those Halls, The Vengeful Forgotten Adventuress, is his creation: for early on during his curse, he took cruel pity on an adventuress of peerless beauty sobbing amidst the corpses of her slain comrades. He bound her weeping spirit forever to the monastery, his slave for all eternity. For eons, he laughed as he forced the ghost of the woman to repeatedly slay her former comrades, endlessly raising them to maddened undeath to attack her again and again. And the centuries passed, and the Librarian forced his toy to be his instrument of torture as he took delight in reducing the strongest women to sobbing wrecks of insanity. The poor woman eventually snapped, and developed a love and a hatred for the cruel king of ghosts that defies all reason, for only her love could match her hate, and only her hate could stand against her love. But her obsessions only amused him more, and in a final act of cruelty, he banished her from his nightmare library, and forced her from him forever. The banshee rode out with curses that shook the land itself, but continued to mime his evil, her only goal to outdo her terrible lord for creative cruelties."