This may get a continuance (maybe Larann actually learning to control the tentacles).
***
Her beloved was a little strange, but she loved him anyway. They had in the adventurer's guild hall a year ago. He was a sorcerer looking for an escort into an abandoned mining complex. Alchemy reagents or something, she was not entirely sure. She took him up on his offer, expecting little trouble at all. She was a skilled drow warrior after all.
Was she ever wrong. After killing what felt like an entire army of disgusting slime monsters, the stupid mage finally got what he wanted so they could leave. It was a strange, pulsing organ he'd pulled from the lead slime.
We'd found steady work as caravan guards shortly after, while the nutty mage tinkered with that organ he'd gotten. Something about how it worked, she wasn't really paying attention. She was generally more focused on trying to suppress her urge to jump on the elven sorcerer and fuck him into submission.
Anaya stretched as she approached the wooden wagon the two were traveling in. Laran, the sorcerer she'd met, was probably inside. They'd paid a little extra to have it divided into two rooms, one to keep her weapons and armor in, and the other for the general living quarters. She took off her sword and armor, sighing in relief and stretching. She was tiny by drow standards, barely five feet tall and less than one-hundred pounds, with b-cup breasts to match. Just as she prepared to open the door, she heard a crash and brief cursing.
Bursting in, she found Larann sitting on the floor, wide-eyed as countless tentacles swirled around him.
She turned to grab her sword, but one of them slammed into the door and the tentacles started inspecting her.
"Larann? What did you do?"
