Chapter Twenty-Six: Laela
"Hello?," Jorgen called out, entering the magic bookstore.
"Welcome! Welcome to my humble shop, Jorgen. May I help you?"
An older, and if Jorgen had to guess, he would say inorei, sat on a stool in front of a counter, towards the back of the shop. He reminded him of an older Eanil.
The shop had racks of books. That was it. Nothing looked obviously magical other than the ubiquitous lights. The barbarian was a little disappointed.
"I guess everybody knows my name at this point. Are you Easio?"
"Indeed, sir. At your service."
"Excellent, well met. I'm here on other business, but do you have a book you might recommend for a potential life mage? An introduction of some sort? I'm told I have all this life energy, and I need to practice my elvish.."
"Yes, sir, of course."
Easio jumped up, and Jorgen was struck by how the older elf's movements were quick and smooth. The little inorei moved towards a wall of books, and took a heavy volume off the shelf.
"It's called 'Introduction to Life Energy and Magic' by various authors," Easio said, handing the tome to the big barbarian.
"This most recent edition was edited, amended and addended by Selani's own Laela an Tarl."
Laela. Westhaven was a small world, Jorgen decided.
The book looked much smaller in the barbarian's huge hands. He studied the leather-bound tome. It had an attractive silver-white color, and of course Jorgen couldn't read it.
"Perfect. I'll take it. And since I'm here, do you have any books on elvish grammar, pronunciation and vocabulary? I'm a quick study."
"You have your work cut out for you, young human," Easio laughed.
The inorei took an even larger volume off a different shelf.
"'Elvish, for elflings, ages three to nine.' No author. This book has been in use for thousands of years. The original authors names are lost to time."
"This is perfect. Thank you, Easio. How much are these?"
"I can do both for five hundred daeri."
Jorgen thought about that. Based on his exchanges so far, that might be around fifty Areisian silvers.
"Do you have any means to exchange Areisian silvers?"
"Oh sure, I go to Nathelas thrice a year. How would thirty silvers be?"
"That works, thank you."
Coin exchanged hands, then Jorgen came to the reason for his visit.
"I need to find Laela. The editor of this tome," he hefted the first volume, "I presume."
The elf laughed.
"Indeed, she is probably the elf you seek. It's not a common name."
"Can you tell me how to find her, or get a message to her?"
"I would normally be hesitant to share information about my best customer. But, who am I," the inorei continued, amused for some reason, "to keep the great barbarian from seeking out the great sorceress?"
Chuckling at his mysterious joke, Easio headed to his counter and used a quill to draw a map.
"She's in this very tree, on the second level. Lovely little cottage," the inorei said, handing over the map.
"This, is perfect. Thank you, Easio. I'm sure we will meet again."
"Yes sir, I would say that is likely."
Jorgen thanked the elf, and headed for the door.
"Good luck!" Easio called after him. Jorgen thought he sounded a little too gleeful.
**
Jorgen headed toward Ruitan's spiral stairs. Once he reached the second level, he consulted his map and started towards the outer path, following Easio's directions.
He found it easily enough. He thought it looked a little nicer than some of the others, but was otherwise unextraordinary. The big man walked up to the front door, and knocked, as gently as he was able.
There was no response.
After a minute, he knocked again, with a little more force. The cottage didn't quite shake.
Suddenly the door was flung open, and a force yanked Jorgen inside. He landed with a thud, and felt chains bind him to the floor, spread-eagle, at the neck, shoulders, wrists, waist and feet. They were freezing cold.
"What the fuck!," he growled.
The muscular barbarian struggled against the shackles, but they didn't budge. His strength was.. gone. He was flat on his back and unable to get up.
A female elf stood above him, looking down with a hungry smile. Her face was familiar.
"I don't think you need to speak, do you?," she asked rhetorically, and then gestured. A frozen chain wrapped around his mouth, and tightened. If the barbarian opened his mouth, he knew the thing would just gag his mouth open. He kept it shut.
Why did he feel so weak?
"Jorgen, Jorgen, Jorgen.. I've been meaning to find you. And here you are! Jorgen the great, big, huge barbarian. Oh my. You really are, aren't you? Biggest hunk of human I've ever seen. Beautiful.
"And what is that in your shorts.. Oh."
She looked just like her daughter. There was no doubt, this was Lillie's mother. Her young, hot mother, who was insane, and staring, of course, at his big, obvious cock.
Then the insane elf gestured, and Jorgen's clothes were gone. Apparently that trick wasn't limited to goddesses.
"That's better," she purred, "So. Much. Better. But how is that even possible? It's.. soft? You must be eight or nine inches. Soft. Oh, goddess it's beautiful. You're beautiful."
Laela had been wearing one of the human-style dresses he saw occasionally in the village. It was a lovely dark blue. And then it was gone.
The naked barbarian hoped the crazy slut could make his things reappear when she had finished.. doing the thing that she was clearly going to do.
Jorgen would be far more upset if he wasn't already a whore, and if Laela wasn't built just like her daughter. It was uncanny. The same perky everything on the same tiny figure. Her hair was longer, but the same brown and gold.
"Oh goddess, barbarian, your cock is beautiful," she purred, and then she was speaking directly to Jorgen's cock, "You beautiful big cock, look at you, so thick, so meaty and huge, oh my, you're going to tear me apart. We need to get you hard, don't we?"
She dropped to her knees and crawled between Jorgen's huge legs. Looking tiny, and hungry, she leaned forward and began to paw at the barbarian's massive chest and rock-hard abs.
"All of these muscles!," the slutty elf exclaimed. Her knee brushed against the head of Jorgen's soft cock, and it grew a little less soft.
Then Laela's little hands were running up and down from his muscular thighs, across his hips, trailing up to his abs and back down again. But she had eyes only for the monster. Which was waking up.
