Ladies Of The Tower Ch 03

Chapter-3: The Bowels of Lolamach

The ladies spent the better part of the next three days pouring over the documents Alderman Crue left for them. They also made a few trips into town for supplies. Although, it was more supplies for the tower itself including hiring a house-boy, and an extra maid. They figured that 500 in gold coin was a bit excessive for expenses on a mission that was just below their feet. So, the extravagant advance was probably best spent on improving the living conditions of the tower. After all, it technically belonged to the wizard, anyway. Whatever their logic, they were preparing for the mission ahead.

The day before, with the help of the tower servants, they gathered needed supplies and staged them in the cellar, and that was where the six of them assembled after their morning meal. And after moving the shelf that concealed the hidden door, the other five all looked over at Cira expectantly.

"What," the little thief began, rhetorically, "just because its a door, I have to open it?"

The others said nothing as Nora cast an iron gaze on the Halfling.

"Okay," she conceded, "I'll check it out."

Sure enough, there was a wire attached to the lock mechanism, and Cira's skills were in need right out of the gate. It was something that she would not let her comrades forget, nor live-down.

First, she drove a pin into the oaken frame of the door-jam, and then cut the wire to the trap (all-the-while keeping steady tension, as not to trigger it). After it was cut, she wrapped the bitter-end of the wire around the pin, and announced, "There... easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy!"

Nora started to move toward the door, as she rolled her eyes in exasperation, but was interrupted by the thief. "Don't," Cira exclaimed, melodramatically. "The trap's not totally disarmed. It just won't go off when you open the door. So, don't even breathe on the wire, or it's..." she finished her sentence by drawing her fore-finger across her neck, and making a gurgling sound.

"What kind of trap is it, Cira?" the barbarian asked, eyes wide with apprehension, "What does it do?"

"You don't wanna know, Selk, and it's best you don't," she replied calmly, as if she knew things others didn't. Honestly, she didn't know what the trap did, and she got a small thrill out of playing this game. And, as usual, the big blond one was always her favorite mark.

The first hundred feet, or so, was well constructed. Meticulously carved out of the granite bedrock that was reinforced by ash timber, and there were sconces containing torches that still could be lit. In the first chamber, the group ran into a gang of a dozen goblins. Fetid little creatures that smelled of rancid meat, and were viscous to a fault, they put up a good fight, but the Ladies of Lolamach proved too much for them.

Even before Nora had drawn her sword, Sara had got off two arrows that unicorned two of the little beasts, and Kerryllon had fried two others with a barrage of arcane lightning from her staff. And as Nora ran the first one through, Selk had rendered another—from crown to groin—with her axe.

Cira had sprang into action as well. She had gotten one high in the spine with her small crossbow, but dropped it for the opportunity to cleave another from-ear-to-ear with her razor-sharp, curved dagger. The Halfling was quite dangerous in battle, and mostly due to her size. Being so small, her enemies had a tendency to pay her no mind, and for most of them it proved to be a fatal mistake. It only made it easier for her to sneak around behind them, and... well... then death.

The remaining four screamed in horror, and tried to run away, but the ranger was quick with her bow, and the thief had recovered her crossbow. And for the most part, they weren't going to make it that far with the fireball that pursued them down the hall. And when it exploded, they all turned to their sorceress that stood there with a satisfied grin on her face.

"A Fireball so early in the day, Kerryllon?" Nora asked, rhetorically, in admonishment, "Please, save your magic for when we

need

it!"

"Pray, pardon, Nora," the elf-sorceress replied, knowing their captain was correct in her assessment, "I just hate goblins," she finished, as she shuddered at the thought of the wart-infested creatures.

As the hours wore-on, one room, chamber, or hall was much like the last: a handful of goblins, kobolds, and even a few orcs, but nothing truly dangerous. And what traps they did run into, a blindfolded village-idiot could have spotted, and they were just as easy for Cira to disarm. It made Nora wonder why they were sent down here. After all, the set-up mission that got them there post was more difficult and challenging that this. She needed a chance to stop, and think, so she ordered a meal-break.

"You get the feeling we're being toyed with again," she asked Cira.

"Nah..." the Halfling replied, brushing the question aside, "I just think the spooky ol' wizard over-estimated the whole thing, why?"

"It's just it all seems too easy, and I have learned to trust your instincts on such matters."

"Well, you should," Cira announce in mock-indignation, and then smiled as if flattered by the compliment, "Besides, it ain't over yet. No telling what lies ahead."

"You're right, we should not take things so casual; we should be on our toes."

With that, Nora declared their respite had came to an end, and it was time to press-on.

As they continued to venture farther into the bowels of Lolamach, the finished halls, rooms, and corridors became sparse, and soon they were in natural caverns. Some were vast and easily traveled, while others were cramped, narrow, and not so easily traversed. And, then, came what Nora had been dreading, as Cira gave them the hand-signal to stop and hide, and she disappeared into the darkness.

The little thief was gone for maybe a half-an-hour as the rest were crouched behind stalagmites or large rocks. And just when Nora thought to start looking for her resident thief, fearing something might have happened to her, Cira reappeared from the shadows. Gathering her comrades about, she spoke in a whisper:

"About a hundred yards ahead, there's the face to some kinda temple," she started, "and its main entrance is guarded by sentinal-zombies. About fifty of 'em. I've ran into these things before, and they'll just stand there until you get too close."

"Well," Nora asked, "how close is 'too close?'"

"Dunno," she answered, matter-of-factly, "depends on the necromancer that made 'em."

"The Power of Danu will ensure they do us no harm," Lia, the cleric, interjected.

"Yeah..." Cira intoned with doubt in her voice, "That's the thing with sentinal-zombies: they're highly resistant to divine magic. Think of 'em like a trap: they just 'go-off' when someone triggers them. They're just really icky-stinky traps. I'm not sayin' it won't work, I just don't think we should put

all

our eggs in that basket."

They all just sat there for a moment looking at each other wondering what to do.

"And, oh yeah, I almost forgot," the Halfling said, as the others looked at her in disbelief, "Only magic or fire can kill 'em. Cuttin' off their heads don't even work. They ain't runnin' on brain-power, after all."

"What do we have for fire, then," Nora queried the group.

"I can do another fireball," the elven sorceress offered, "but then I'll need some rest... a good rest!"

"And I have one Inferno-Burst arrow left," their new ranger added.

"Good," Nora confirmed, and added with a sly grin, "I have a plan..."

***

Erylleff Rallyfaign was a Drow-Elf, and the play-thing of a lich named Korlan. It was about 200-years ago that Erylleff was contracted to murder of him—but that was when he was still among the living. Whether she was successful in completing her contract was up for debate, as she did plunge a stiletto into his heart while participating in some bed-sport, but he just didn't stay dead. Well, not completely.

The Wizard, Korlan, had already made preparations for his un-life. He had grown so powerful (almost immortal) that the only way he could see being killed was if it was by surprise. And he was correct in this assumption. But, now, as the flesh slowly would decay from his bones, and he could no longer feel the indulgent sensuality of the living, he lived vicariously through his dark-skinned thrall. This was her punishment for her transgression against such an august member of the magi... himself!

The beautiful, dark Assassin should have known better. As a rule, one didn't cross mages, and she knew that she would be paying for this until her beauty faded. Which, in actuality, wouldn't be for several more centuries. But this was just added years of torture for her. She could only hope that her beauty would fade sooner, rather than later, and the lecherous old Lich would loose interest in her suffering.

"Now, please the creature," Korlan commanded, sternly.

Erylleff was naked, her flawless, charcoal skin shining in the orange glow of the lamplight. She was knelt before an Ettin: a two-headed giant that was endowed with not just the two heads on his shoulders. She considered herself lucky, as he was a small Ettin standing only seven-and-a-half-feet tall. And after all the degrading acts she had been forced to perform over the past two-centuries, she was somewhat grateful that this beast was not graced with more than she could take.

Pulling the string that held his loincloth in place, she watched it fall to the floor, revealing his twin, half-erect members. She began to stroke one in each hand as she playfully licked and kissed at he pair of bulbous crowns. They quickly sprang to life, rigid, pulsating with a more-than-considerable length and girth. Although one was slightly smaller than the other, she could barely wrap her mouth around either. Alas, she did try.

The giant's two heads groaned as she did her best to work his double-cock, and the lich looked-on in prurient obsession. Soon, he knew that she would be feeling the might, and full, terrible carnality of this monster's unique endowment.

"Creature, prepare her for you," he, once again, commanded. The Drow heard that familiar arcane echo in his voice that he used to control the beasts of his menagerie, yet he did not have to use it on her. She had long since learned her lesson not to defy him.

With his brawny harms and hands, the Ettin raise her off the ground above his heads, and lowered her groin between them. She felt two massive tongues begin to work both of her holes, and she couldn't help but to revel in the alien sensation. Broad, powerful, and slick with spit, their tongues hungrily worked at her sex, and tried to burrow their way into their relative openings.

Putting the conditions of her servile state out of her mind, she did her best to enjoy the feeling of what was being done to her. And, soon she found herself moaning and gasping at the giant's dual oral-explorations. In return, she began to gyrate her hips, grinding her moistening box and asshole into the creature's mouths.

The conditions for her being in this situation forgotten, the dark-elf began to feel an orgasm well within her. It started in the pit of her stomach, and stirred slowly outward to her extremities. She felt the involuntary response of her muscles begin with slight twitches. But before it could reach its apex, it was rudely interrupted by the lich:

"That's enough for her, beast," he said, almost angrily, and then made his next command, "Put her on her back, and swive her!" Just as quickly as she went up, she came down, and was laid-out on the altar.

Erylleff was lucky that she was on her back, as she saw that the smaller of the two huge pricks was beneath the larger, but that was not to say that it would be no problem.

In the past, she enjoyed it in that hole. But she had never had one so large. She had done it with a human, and he was the first, just before she killed him; she had also done it with an elf, and found it more pleasurable the first time. But the largest so far was with a Dwarf, and despite their short stature, dwarf-males tend to be hung more so than humans or elves. However, this Ettin was going to be a challenge.

She felt the larger begin to prod at her tight, little cunt, and then the smaller begin to press against her sphincter after the other started to enter her. The first was stretching her pussy to its limits as it worked its way in, but she gasped in an exquisite, carnal mix of pain and pleasure as the second rod began to open her ass.

The dark-elf bit her lip as she moved her pelvis to give the monster better access to her insides. And she began to call-out louder-and-louder with ever inch of progress the colossal dual-cocks made. As it was, the bigger shaft could only bury half-way inside her fuck-tunnel before bottoming-out on her cervix. It was then that the two-headed giant began his languid strokes of what he could fit into her.

Huge hands pressed her slender, black legs as far back as they could go, as the monster tried to penetrate deeper, and she screamed louder. And this time, there would be no holding back the climax that came upon her.

Although in considerable pain from the two gargantuan shafts that were ravaging both of her lower holes, she was also awash in the carnal stimulation of it all. The pain, the pleasure, it was all the same. It was a violation that made her feel like a piece-of-meat, and she was relishing it! This was her small revenge, her meager defiance, against the her horrid captor.

Erylleff came, and came hard. Her entire body locked in one great spasm, and then her legs started quaking. When her breath returned, she rang-out in shrill cries. At this point, the rest of the world did not exist, and her revenge, her defiance, against Korlan was complete on this day: no matter what, she would do her best enjoy these little exhibitions that the lich would cook-up for her.

Next she felt her pussy, and her asshole, flood with the creatures seed, and it begin to leak from around it cocks. It dripped down onto the altar, and when he pulled his twin-rods from her abused holes, she felt it flood from her, and heard it splash on the floor below.

She knew that her captor had enjoyed the show—even though he had no real face to express such emotions. The Drow girl watched him sit there for a few moments, then simply rise from his throne, and leave the chamber. Now, she was left alone (as the Ettin had returned to his cage, to his new home), and she wondered if she would ever get the opportunity to escape from this dreadful place. After all, he had to slip-up sometime, and give her the opening she needed to slip-away. But, it would not be today, she reckoned.