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 102: Hell
When the party stepped through the portal they found in Hell and into the throat-like tunnel beyond, the scent of their environment evolved into an abomination of sulfur, rotting flesh, and the worst sort of morning breath. Selene almost lost control of the contents of her stomach even with the weak wards she put around her nose. Her garments shifted to give herself a decorative veil that doubled as a mask. It helped. Slightly. Althaia took a deep breath, a long exhale, and put an aura of anti-stench around herself It seemed to be some sort of fusion of a few paladin and druid techniques, but it did help with the smell. Caleldir had attempted his own magical antidote, but failing to do much due to his weak constitution when exposed to this sort of thing instead moved towards the nymph a bit more.
Once everyone was through, Dahlia took the lead again. "Low-level spells are fine out here, but once we get nearer the back we should avoid divine magic as much as possible," she informed them as she began walking down the throat-cavern. The succubus did not resume her jog. Rather, she walked slowly, cautiously. Time was no longer speeding along without them, after all.
"No more divine magic, then." Althaia sighed. Well, that negated most of her abilities. Fun. Notably, Althaia was distressed enough by her surroundings that she did not make any innuendo-laden jokes despite the ample opportunity given their surroundings.
The tunnel went straight down at a moderate incline for several hundred feet before it opened up into the main part of the realm. And it was no less unsettling than its entrance. The chamber was huge; it was just about as large as the cavern in the Underdark where Duskhaven was situated. Except instead of stone and fungus making up the walls, it appeared to be hundreds of mouths and stomachs and intestines from massive creatures stitched together with thousands of tons of fat and lard. The cavern floor was covered in rolling hills that looked more like twisted tongues that twitched and pulsated. Looming at the back of the chamber on top of the tallest fleshy hill was a fortress predictably made of bleached white bone spirals and spikes. Red blood-like ichor poured from places where the bone of the fortress pierced the flesh of the chamber, forming rivers that oozed throughout the space.
Caleldir blanched at the sight. Althaia gritted her teeth. "This place is unpleasant," Caleldir said wryly.
"Absolutely disgusting," Althaia complained. "You see, this is exactly why succubi are the only fiend that I refrain from smiting on sight. At least succubi have some sense of beauty. They try to make things lovely. All the other fiends just make them ugly. This is the worst sort of flesh obsession. Would you not agree, Dahlia?"
"This is the worst sort of flesh obsession," Dahlia repeated in agreement as she tried not to take in the scenery around her. She had seen quite enough of that this first time around. But her seduction had to be saved, so there she was despite her obvious desire to be anywhere else than there.
Althaia sighed and began stomping along. Her outfit was modest again. Maybe a bit overly so. "Lead to where I can smite something, please. I need to punish someone for this crime against the very concepts of beauty in the universe."
"There's nothing that's safe to smite, I'm afraid. The abomination guards seem to have a hivemind, and there are hundreds of them lumbering around here." Dahlia pointed to a fleshy hill where once such creature was emerging. It had to be over twelve feet of crudely stitched-together corpses that really had no right staying together as it did. Awful necromantic magic was clearly at work there. Cleavers were clutched in both - no, all three of its hands, which couldn't have been practical but... "They're quicker than they look," the succubus informed the party. "Caleldir, you especially shouldn't go anywhere near them. They have knockout gas that managed to overcome even my constitution."
A rather ashen Selene offered her opinion then. "We can take hundreds." Her expression was covered by the veil, but it still looked as if the stench wasn't doing good things to her stomach. "But I would prefer not to until Ashyr is safe in our possession. Then, by all means, we can raze this wretched place."
Althaia's shoulders drooped. "Drat it all," she fumed. "That creature would be just perfect to utterly destroy." Eyes flashing, she looked over the creature. "I could personally tear through hundreds of those things," she groused. "But I understand that our priority is to rescue Ashyr and your succubi. So I will refrain. But If any get in our way, well, Phanuel's esteemed father - who I assume is behind this all - can stand to have his army culled a bit, I think." She fell to silence and stomped on. Lightly, so as not to make too much noise.
Sidhriia nodded in agreement at those last words, her fists clenched and her expression a mixture of disgusted and determined. The last party member, Phanuel, had a very similar reaction to the idea. Except he looked a good deal more murderous.
"My father is most certainly here," Phanuel observed through gritted teeth. "I feel him. Though I wasn't aware of his obsession with flesh." He looked around himself with utter disgust and disdain.
Caleldir nodded. "After we have Ashyr and the succubi, I am all in favor of doing as much damage as possible. Just going wild. Retreat if anything we cannot take comes along. I assume that we cannot defeat a dark god in his own domain, so if he personally shows up we should return to Risa posthaste. If it is in fact possible to port out of here somehow." It probably was not.
"We should get going; we can talk - the abominations don't seem to hear that well - but we can't stand here for too much longer." Her eyes darted around the immediate area, then focused a little farther as her lips moved in thoughtful, silent words to herself. "We should slip past everything if we go this way... Stay close, everyone."
Though Dahlia said that talking was probably pretty safe, it was difficult for any of them to think of something to say that wasn't just complaining about their situation. Besides, if they didn't talk they might be able to hear if there was an unexpected abomination lumbering up to them. Dahlia seemed absolutely confident that she knew the rotation of the scouts, and Selene did point out that things of such meager intelligence probably wouldn't change their paths on their own.
... except it wasn't just up to the abominations. Their master was around somewhere, according to Phanuel. He could very easily reprogram his guards if he thought it would be necessary.
This was why, when they were a little over halfway to the bone citadel, the sort of thumping, squelching sound of the monstrous corpses could be heard far more closely than Dahlia expected. First, the sound assaulted their ears, and then the stench. Even with Selene's veil, the pregnant mage could not stomach the nigh unimaginable awfulness that was the aroma of abomination. She stumbled, retched, and would have fallen over as she lost the contents of her stomach to the side of the path, but Sidhriia - who wasn't looking well herself - caught her older sister and dragged her forward with the rest of the group.
With serious, angry expression, Phanuel grabbed both of the struggling drow and hurried them faster around the corner just as the offending abomination walked out on the path behind them. It seemed to have just missed the sight of them. Dahlia still looked worried, though. What if they saw Selene's vomit? What if it put them on higher alert? Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, but did the mood of the ones she saw in the distance shift? Were they walking faster?
All they could do, though, was keep going as quickly and wisely as possible, so the succubus led them forward. Only Caleldir knew how worried she was.
That had been far too close of a shave. Althaia sidled up to Selene, who looked like she was not done being sick. "I think I can risk this much magic," she said in a low voice. "I will cast this as a spell-like natural ability rather than a divine spell." With that, she buffed up Selene's constitution and cast something that dulled her sense of smell to almost nothing. "And add an air-filter," she finished up.
"As grateful as I am for your help, are you sure that was worth the risk? Masking or not, those were divine spells," Caleldir said uneasily even while Selene sighed with enormous relief.
"I was very careful," Althaia replied. "But the cost was worth the benefit. As I am sure Selene would agree."
"If it is worth the risk, then dull everyone else's nostrils and add filters," Caleldir replied.
Althaia hesitated. "I... only really have one of those," she said regretfully. "Let us keep hurrying."