Of Fiends and Misfortune

As the paralysis venom started to wear off, Jack could see the first rays of the early morning sun teasing their way through the jungle of spider webs. "Holy hells," he swore through gritted teeth as the light amplified his already screaming headache. The headache could have been from a number of things: lack of sleep, dehydration, being dragged nude and immobilized through the rocky under brushes; but it was likely due to being cocooned in spider silk and hung upside down for the past several hours. He wondered if Adria's head was also killing her when he found her in the same position the night before.

Fucking Adria. He had spent all night debating over what he should have done differently about the devious minx whom he met the previous evening. He realized saving her wasn't a mistake, but he should have never agreed to her stupid "lessons" on how to pleasure a woman. He should have never taken off his armor, he should have never let his senses be muffled by covering his face with her cunt. He was a trained rogue for Asmodeous' sake! How could he have allowed himself to become so distracted in a forest full of spiders! Jack felt a dull ache in his groin, reminding him exactly why he allowed it. And, despite the risk, he was still going to die a virgin.

Having regained all of his senses, and finally able to feel the multitude of injuries he sustained from his spider escort, he painfully wriggled against the strands holding him tight. Useless. He tried to move his arms from under the webbing, wriggling his fingers between tiny gaps. They held fast.

"FUCK!" he bellowed, the cry bouncing off the silk meshwork between the canopies. He knew his yelling could draw in the crawling predators, but at this point, he didn't care. Death was imminent, and he'd rather be exsanguinated sooner rather than later.

"Oi, that a live one?" He heard a grating voice call out far behind him. Jack tried to squirm and turn towards it without success.

"Hey, hey! Quit writhin and screamin or we'll all be spider shit 'fore noon." The voice was coming closer. He could hear two distinct sets of footsteps, quickly navigating the woven floor.

He couldn't believe it. Jack had spent the last two weeks completely lost in the forests between here and his home city of Hillsfar and hadn't met another soul. Yet, in the past day, three separate parties traveled through this decrepit, stale, spiders' den.

A forceful hand jerked the cocoon around. Jack was greeted by two human men, each ham-fisting a dagger and donning ill-fitting chain mail armor. An ugly smile crawled across the taller of the two's face once as his gaze pierced into Jack's solid black eyes.

"Well, whaddaya know Garrett, twasn't just rumors after all. There are fiend-touched in this god-forsaken forest!" The taller man didn't take his eyes off Jack. The shorter man seemed to be watching his companion, waiting for commands.

Jack politely smiled back, careful not to show too much of his fangs. Being a Tiefling, greetings of disgust or fear were all too common for him. Hopefully with enough civility, he could convince them cut him down. However, based on the white-knuckled, upside down, hammer grip the shorter man used to clutch his dagger, Jack may still end up in ribbons despite their kindest intensions.

"We hear there's a village full of you round here. That true, devil?" The taller man asked.

Alyssim. Adria's home village and a safe-haven Tieflings. She had made it sound like paradise, and not just because there was a three-day Fuck Festival currently underway. It was only a few hours from here, but its exact location was still unknown to Jack.

"Yes." Jack answered hoarsely.

"Which way?"

"I-I'm not sure. I've-"

The taller man pressed the tip of his dagger into the center of Jack's forehead. "Think harder, devil."

Jack tried not to laugh. What was he going to do? Push a blunt tipped dagger directly through the front of his skull? If he was trying to be intimidating, he should have put the blade literally anywhere else on his face. Under the jaw, the cheek, against an eyeball. Hells even the side of the skull would be more painful. But he decided to play along, plus the pressure on his forehead wasn't helping his headache.

"I'm from there," Jack lied. "But I've been strung up all night, slowly spinning, and I would need to get my bearings before I could direct anyone back that way. If you just cut me down, I could-"

"Landmarks. Cardinal directions. What're they?" The taller man pushed the tip of the blade into Jack's flesh. He winced as the pressure rippled through skull.

"What I was going to say," Jack hissed. "Is that the village is well-guarded. They shoot any non-Tieflings on sight. Unless they are accompanied by someone who lives there." The truth was, Jack had no idea of Alyssim's the security policies, but he hoped the two humans didn't either. "Look." Jack gave a little wiggle within his cocoon. "I'm at your mercy here. If you get me out of this thing, I'll get you into the village."

"And 'ow do we know you're not goin to kill us as soon as we pop you outta there?" The short man finally spoke up.

"Really? If I had any sort of weapon, do you think I would still be strung up? I'm begging you. There's two of you, both armed and armored. And one of me. An unarmored and injured gardener." Jack rattled off the first string of fabrications that came to mind.

The tall man backed away from him, before turning towards his companion. They spoke in hushed voices amongst themselves. "'ight. We gotta deal, devil." The two men approached him and began cutting away at the silk strands.

"Thank you, sirs! May your god bless you!" The tall man scoffed in response. As they got closer, Jack noticed an emblem painted onto their chainmail. A face covering what may have been a compass, or a sun? Jack wasn't religious but could recognize the symbols of the major deities. This was not one of them.

The two men worked quickly and carelessly, nicking Jack's skin several times. "Just as a warning, um, I'm not wearing anything under this." Jack said as they reached the final layers of spider silk. The men paused. "So, Tieflings actually go nude when it's just Tieflings around," he lied. Though, for all he knew, it could have been true. Adria was the only other Tiefling he spent an extended period of time with, and they did end up naked together.

"Women too?" The shorter man asked, as they resumed their cutting, albeit a bit more slowly.

"Of course, that's the best part of the village." Jack felt his body slip down slightly from the cocoon.

"And 'st true what they say, that female Tiefling are part succubus? I mean, evil, but able to pleasure a man in an unimaginable way?" The short man continued to inquire.

"Yup." Jack had no idea how the actual fiendish bloodlines of Tieflings worked, but was now wondering if the man's question was true.

"Hells, Dritver," the short man finally revealing his tall companion's name, "may be worth it for us to hold onto a couple ourselves, afterwards. Think the temple would mind?"

"'Pends, Garrett," the taller man answered, looking back at Jack as he sliced through one of the last strands hold him up. "Can you tie their tails to their horns? Make em keep their snatch up in the air for anyone to come 'n use?"

"Um, sure, I don't see why not." It was actually impossible. A Tieflings tail wasn't nearly flexible enough to be tied, but he wasn't about to discourage these men now. "Hells, find the right lady, and she'll probably love it!"

"She's not supposed to love it." Jack felt the tall man's blade working the final bits of web around his neck. "It's supposed to teach that sub-human bitch her place."

Any guilt Jack may have felt over his plans for these men suddenly vanished.

The final strands of webbing gave way, and Jack let out a yelp as he half-intentionally crumpled onto the forest floor. The two men jumped back. "Shit, I think my ankle is broken." He lied, rubbing his filthy but otherwise fine leg. "Please, help me up and we can get moving." He attempted to look as helpless as possible as he reached out to Garrett. The short man glanced at his companion, who gave him a nod, before extending an arm out towards Jack.

Jack seized the man's forearm as he slid his feet under his body. Garrett gawked at Jack's sudden mobility before the man's body was pulled sharply downwards. The Tiefling launched himself upwards to meet him, propelling the hard keratinous bases of his horns just below the man's eye sockets. Jack heard the definitive sound of bone cracking. He could confidently say it was not his own skull that fractured as Garrett collapsed onto the forest floor. Shit, he should have started growing out his horns ages ago.

Jack felt a hard punch in his right shoulder blade. He reached down, plucking the dagger from the unconscious man's hand. He turned to see Dritver, staring at him like a hound staring at a wolf. The man threateningly thrust his own bloody dagger at Jack, splattering the droplets between them. Jack stretched and touched the warm liquid he now felt flowing from his shoulder. Blood.

Dritver gave another shaking thrust towards Jack. "That's right, I stabbed you, you devil-fucking bastard, and if you come any closer, I'll do it again!" His voice trembled.

Jack raised an eyebrow. He twirled his own dagger, gripping it by the blade before launching it at Dritver. It planted itself satisfyingly below his Adam's apple. The man's eyes widened as he clawed at his chest and throat, swinging his wildly with the other hand. He began to gurgle and choke as bits of blood bubbled and oozed from his mouth and stab wound. Jack grabbed Dritver's wrist and pulled the dagger from his hand before pushing him against the closest tree.

Jack leaned in close to his pale face "Listen here, you inept pile of shit, if you survive long enough, you are going to go back and tell whoever is starting these rumors that there are no Tieflings out this way. That is the

only

reason I'm allowing you to live. Blink twice if you understand." Dritver slowly closed his eyes twice before opening them. "Good, because if you don't, and trust me I

will

know if you don't," Jack whispered in his ear. "I will make it my personal mission hunt you down and kill everyone you have ever cared about." Jack pulled the dagger from his throat as he released the man. Dritver slid down the tree, blustering in wet gulps out of his surprise tracheotomy.

Jack walked over to Garrett, still breathing but unconscious. He needed clothes and supplies, but not more witnesses. He knelt down before expertly dragging the dagger across the man's neck, ear to ear. Garrett shuddered and coughed before becoming still again. It would be few more minutes until he would bleed out, but at least it would be relatively painless for him. He grabbed the man's pack, put on the spare set of poorly proportioned clothes; and found his way back out the spider's lair, leaving the sounds of Dritver's squelches echoing behind him.

Jack found his and Adria's campsite from last night, and a sudden sharp pain shot from his shoulder. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, and he could feel where that bastard Dritver stabbed him. Thankfully Garrett had bandages, and he took a seat on their log-bench to hastily apply one well enough to stop the bleeding. It had been years since Jack killed anyone outside of a hired contract, and the intimacy of it made him uneasy. He didn't feel guilty, exactly, as he knew he didn't have any other choice. Though, he did wish he probed them for more information. While Jack was used to mortified greetings, being hunted was an unfamiliar scenario. He would need to alert Alyssim, should he ever make it there. As angry as he was at Adria, he would hate for any harm to come to her or the people of her village, especially at the hands of men like Dritver and Garrett.

Jack thought of the time he had spent with the charming woman as he looked around the beautiful meadow. Why? Even if she didn't want to fight the spider after it paralyzed him, why wouldn't she have just stayed here? Why risk going into the forest alone in the dead of night to try to make it back home? He found his pack from the night before, half hidden in some tall grass next to their fire pit and disappointingly empty. Why would she steal everything from him, ensuring, even if he did escape the spider, he would probably die? The spider attacked right before they were about to have sex. Maybe Adria changed her mind about that? That would have been fine though, he was never expecting it to begin with. Unless...Oh gods, did she find him so repulsive that, after she orgasmed, she didn't even want to be around him, and then saw the spider as her chance to escape? He began replaying the entire evening over and over in his mind. Nothing was adding up.

She had said Alyssim was a two hour walk from here, and he had seen which direction she left in last night. He needed ask her why she left him to die, some sort of explanation at the very least, as well as getting his damn belongings back. And, in regards to Dritver and Garrett, he needed to warn the village leaders that their safe haven may have been exposed. He sighed, hungry and exhausted. If nothing else, Alyssim seemed promising for a cold drink, a hot meal, and a warm bed.

***

The walk was excruciating. There was no part of his body that wasn't in agony as he traversed the untamed forest. The boots he plucked off Garrett's body were several sizes too small, causing his feet to form blisters. His headache had substantially worsened since this morning, and Jack lost vision in his right eye early on in the trek. The stab wound in his shoulder and the rest of the bruises and lacerations covering his body seemed to get deeper and more widespread with every hour. Hells, even his balls were still sending him the occasional alert of discomfort. It was amazing how the reminder of last night's intense arousal and denial could even be felt through the pain of getting stabbed in the fucking shoulder.

The sun was at the highest point in the sky when Jack heard the music, drowned out by the sounds of laughter, moaning, and general merriment. He followed the sound, searching for the oasis within this sylvan desert of misery. The smell hit him next: fresh bread, charred meat, and an unidentifiable mix of seasonings wafted over a hint of tobacco and cloves, making his mouth water and his pace quicken.

Jack was relieved to see that all the signs of the festivities were contained within 15-foot-high stone walls just through the tree line. Assuming there weren't two villages holding celebrations in these remote woodlands, Alyssim appeared to have some level of defenses. As he got closer, he could see crude and crumbling battlements tacked onto each corner of the barricade. Although he was skeptical the structure could even support the weight of an archer, he moved cautiously, leaving a wide berth as he traced the walls in search of the entrance.

He did not have to search long. Just round the next corner, the stone wall was adorned with a smooth purple fabric. Satin or silk maybe? He wasn't sure, but it didn't seem weather-worn or unceremonial. He followed the canvas of fabric for several hundred more feet, so distracted by the pleasurable sounds and smells coming from the other side, that he was nearly face-to-face with the guard's podium by the time he noticed the sally port.

"Welcome to the Founder's Festival." A bored looking Tiefling in thick black robes didn't bother to look up from the book they were reading as they rummaged under the podium. "All travelers must proceed down the corridor and through bath house before entering. Please ensure you are clean and comfortable before celebrating." The unenthused individual placed a fluffy white towel, robe, and slippers on the end of the podium. "Please note Alyssim is not responsible for any lost or stolen goods or bodily injuries. Should you have any questions or concerns, please direct them towards any individuals dressed in black. Have a wonderful festival." Their voice was almost sarcastic as they waved Jack on.

Jack slowly took the linens off the podium. They were exceptionally high in quality, unnaturally soft, and almost sinfully clean. "I-I'm looking for someone..." Jack rasped.

"Yes, aren't we all-" The other Tieflings annoyed snap was cut short when they finally looked up at Jack. "Holy hells, bit of a rough journey, then?"

"Heh, you could say that." Jack figured he looked as bad as he felt at this point, with his clothes soaked in blood, mud, and cold sweat. "I'm looking for a woman named Adria. She would have arrived late last night or early this morning. Is she here?"

"Not sure, I wasn't working then. Here-" The Tiefling reached back under the podium and pulled out an additional robe sash. "You gotta keep that eye covered unless you want to scare off your lady. But you should really find a healer as soon as you can."

"Thanks." Jack added the extra sash to his pile of white-soft clothes. He heard the guard clear their throat as he tried to pass. "What?"

"So, I'm assuming this is your first Festival?" Jack nodded. "Yeah, so it's customary to generously tip those that choose to work during this event. Just so you're aware..."

"Sorry, I haven't any gold. Like you said... rough journey." That was the unfortunate truth. Garrett didn't have a single copper in his pack, and any gold he previously brought had been stolen by Adria.

The Tiefling loudly sighed. "Fine then. Good luck." They turned back towards their book and Jack proceeded onward through the halls of fabric.

His heavy footsteps echoed as the dirt floor turned to finished black stone, following the tunnel of satin. The bathhouse was smaller than the ones he'd seen in Hillsfar (granted, he had only been there to collect protection payments for the guild,) but seemingly much cleaner. The dark stone walls, floors, and ceilings were lit only by sparce and soft candles, which illuminated a narrow path between the eight inground pools spread about the spa. Each pool looked like it could fit four comfortably, or six if they wanted to get

very

familiar, and had a continual stream of effervescent water pouring from each spigot. He was pleased to find the room empty.

He selected a pool in the corner and began peeling blood-crusted clothes off his body, realizing the bandage on his shoulder must have slipped down some time ago. He lowered himself and felt every muscle in his body forced into relaxation by the hot water. He let out an involuntary moan once fully seated, as the water came up nearly to his shoulders. He slumped down, feeling a slight sting as the liquid lapped against his stab wound, before closing his eyes and letting the weeks of dirt and blood get carried away through the drain.

Now fully relaxed, a thought entered Jack's mind. The ache in his groin had returned, more noticeable as the rest of his body finally had some relief. He looked around. The bathhouse had been completely empty since he arrived. And even if someone approached, surely he would hear their footsteps on the stone long before they reached the room. And even if they did reach the spa before he noticed them, it was as if the positioning of the candles, combined with the bubbles of the water and dark stone was designed to hide whatever may be happening below the surface. And besides, he would want a clear mind and empty balls when he confronted Adria. Yes, definitely better not to be so easily distracted by everything a Fuck Festival had to offer, at least not until after. By now, his body already made the decision for him, and his hand was instinctively stroking his stiffening cock.

It was an odd feeling. He had never masturbated anywhere public, and certainly not anywhere he could be caught. He was paranoid that any sound he made would be heard by the entire village, even though the resounding noise from the festivities were heavily muted through the stone walls of the bath house. But with the sexual whirlwind of the past 24 hours, it wasn't long before he felt an orgasm starting to build. He desperately began stroking himself harder, flashing all the usual images in his mind that typically brought him over the edge. He imagined a beautiful woman on her knees, urgently sucking on his cock and begging him to finish. Then he pictured a woman with a nice full ass, facing away from him as she rode it out of him. Adria had a fantastic ass; he got a great look at it whenever she bent over for him. He wondered if she would have fucked him like that... if she didn't decide to rob him and leave him to die. He thought about her being right outside the bathhouse, able to walk in at any moment. Shit, were those foot-steps coming? No, just his own echo on the stone.