Prince Gyllen

Gyllen was weakly leaning over the wooden barrier of the poop deck whilst on his quivering knees as the ship rocked back and forth across the waves. He had tied his hair back into a bunch to keep it far away from his face in fear of retching into the ocean and getting chunks of this morning's breakfast tangled in his tresses. Not exactly the most attractive situation the prince has been in.

"Ah! Get a load o' that sea air, Gyl! So nostalgic!" Min breathed deeply through her nostrils as she walked up the stairs to the bow of the ship, before giving Gyllen a friendly slap on the back, almost causing the blond to vomit then and there.

"Min! Please! I'm not feeling so well at the moment..." Gyllen groaned.

"Man, I forgot how easily city folk get seasick." Min said, leaning back against a post next to the ill prince as seagulls squawked overhead. "We'll be dockin' in a bit anyway so hang in till then."

"Already? I didn't think we would reach Gaul so soon." Gyllen feebly lifted himself off the railing.

"Nah, we're makin' a pitstop at a place in Noregr for supplies first. The people back in Malmhule barely gave the crew the time o' day. Some hospitality they got!"

"Min, did it not occur to you that perhaps they closed shop out of fear of being ransacked at the sight of a jolly roger?"

"Huh...guess it does make sense when ya put it like that." The goblin scratched at her nose. "Snjórland's so out a' the way from everywhere else so barely anyone in the trade bothers making a trip up there, y'see. 'Spose they're not used t' seein' pirates."

"Implying that pirates in general are not a reason enough to instigate panic anywhere..." Gyllen rolled his eyes.

"Nah, man! Most port towns are filled wi' 'em! Good for local businesses, ya see? We don' go 'round pillagin'

all

the time, y'know."

"Well, in any case, it would be nice to step on dry land once again for a while."

"Been at this port a couple times meself. I know a nice little whore house not too far out the way. Mebbe we can find ya a cute orc lad with a dong as big as yer arm!" Min winked.

"...I think I'll be just as happy with a simple wander, thank you."

Once the vessel had weighed anchor and set up its gangplank, Gyllen took his time before disembarking. He took a deep inhale of briny air and closed his eyes before taking a few cautious, creaky steps forwards down the wooden board until he felt the material underneath his feet become stone. For the first time, Gyllen had stepped onto the ground of another country.

"Had yer moment yet, Yer Majesty?" Min broke the quiet, watching the pretentious actions from a distance behind.

"I'm beginning to think you take a sadistic joy in mocking me, Min..." The prince slumped with an amused expression as his theatrics were dashed, watching the goblin make her own casual way beside him.

"Well...yeah." The goblin chuckled. "I got me own plans while we're here by the by. Ya sure yer gonna be fine on yer own?"

"Min, if I can handle the Monster District, I'm fairly certain I can handle this place just as fine."

"Ooooh~! Jus' call ya badarse!" Min took an exaggerated step backwards with her hands making pushing motions. "Jus' try not t' get shanked, alright? Places like this make the Monster District look like a picnic in the park."

"Gods, don't you start acting like Mother now..."

"Psssh! Jus' watchin' yer back, Goldie." Min scoffed. "Anyways, Cap says we're only stayin' the one night so do what you gotta do and be back by tomorrow mornin', got it? Catch ya later, Prince Pussy!" Min began walking away, off the jetty and into the town.

"Wait, what are you planning to do?" The prince asked his goblin friend as she strutted off.

"I can have fun without ya, ya know! That brothel is still there, innit?"

"Indeed." Gyllen coughed. "Have fun, I suppose." And with that, Gyllen went his own separate way without any clear direction in mind. Meanwhile, the goblin rambled alone across the piers, passing by the many seafront establishments while on her merry way to have her various openings filled by men twofold her size. However, she stopped her journey early outside a building situated between a noxious fishmongers and sleazy literature shop. Compared to those two, it was an unusually squat structure, with proportionally measured swinging doors and circle-shaped windows. A rectangular signboard above the entrance simply dubbed the place: "The Short Shack."

Min pushed the double doors aside as she entered the construction. The low frame fitting her short body without any impediment. The interior was merely that of an average pub, albeit on a reduced scale, with tables around the floor, booths against the wall and a bar stretching across the far end of the room. All the patrons were non-humans of varying races, nothing too unusual, especially if you hailed from Malmhule's Monster District, although each attendee had something in common regardless of species: every one of them was under five feet tall.

"Ah, unchanged..." Min blissfully sighed. Barely taking a few steps further inside, the redhead found herself already being barraged by a variety of whistles and whoops from a nearby gang of male goblins, most likely sailors judging from their attire, who had quickly become excited by the sight of the first half-way decent looking member of their native race in upwards of months on end.

"Hoy, lass! Lass! Feelin' hungry? I've got a big, juicy cucumber ya can chew on!" One of the obscene mariners wasted no time not-so-subtly suggesting. "'Least flash us yer knockers! C'mooon, do some brothers a favour, yeah?"

"Sorry, lads, but I'm in the mood for fryin' bigger fish tonight~" Min walked on by with gracing them with so much as a glance.

"Slag..." One of the males muttered in typical goblin fashion to insult those you are unable to gain from, but for someone like Min, it was almost a compliment. The female goblin rested an elbow on the bar upon reaching it, leaning her upper half over while sticking out her wide rear within her taut, brown shorts, one stubby leg crossed over the other and resting on the toe tips of her boot.

"Oi, matey!" She reached over and tugged the back of the gnomish bartender's shirt to gain his attention. "Slide me four pints a' Nidavellir!" The goblin requested when he turned around. Her order was filled promptly and several metallic mugs were carefully placed on the counter. Less gracefully, Min grabbed each container by their handles, fitting two in each set of fingers, and miraculously did not drop a single drip of the liquid within even as the foam heads precariously swished about.

"Are you going to get someone to help you or...?" The barkeep asked, unsure if the goblin was up to snuff about her method of carrying.

"Nah, mate, I'm jus' here by me ownsome." Min replied.

"Wait, they're not

all

for you, are they?" He asked again, eyes grown wider.

Min did not stay by the counter long enough to answer, already starting her search for a unoccupied (and stable) table she could fit all these steins onto. As she walked, her concentration was diverted but for a moment thanks to the group of goblin sailors again heckling her with raunchy invites and vulgar promises, but by the time she realised she was on a collision course with another wandering and unobservant customer, it was already far too late.

Walking into this stranger was like walking into a brick wall. Min bounced right off the immovable character and straight to the floor, landing directly on her cushioned tush. The sudden recoil sent the quartet of steins flying from the goblin's hands and, as the laws of gravity combined with some bad luck dictated, half the cooled contents splashed directly across the goblin's chest, soaking into her skimpy, brown top. Min jumped back to her feet even faster than she fell with a reactionary hoot from the sharp chill that nipped her breast flesh. Her nipples quickly and prominently stiffened against the fabric as a secondary result from the refrigerated liquid which all the masculine eyes in the room took careful note, though Min did not realise this from being too furious with the armoured attendee who had the other half of the fermented fluids showered over them.

"Watch where ya lookin'!" Min angrily grabbed onto the unknown's damp shoulder to bullishly swivel them around to face her. "Ya owe me four new pints now, ya arse!"

"You gotta be jokin', dog-face!? You'er the one paying for my cleaning bill! I'm soaked!" The other pygmy said back to Min in an equally unsophisticated voice, unintimidated. The person in question turned out to be a female dwarf; a sturdy, prideful people native to the north lands known for their natural talents in mining and manufacturing who primarily lived in grand underground cities built into mountains. Physically, they closely resembled humans, the only real differences in appearance being an average dwarf's more stout frame and inborn muscles. Every dwarf is also capable of growing magnificent facial hair, even the women! Although, beards have long fallen out of style for lady dwarves and you'll be hard pressed to find one who does not regularly shave. As was expected, this one was no exception, her dirtied - yet handsome - face scowling down at Min as she stood a solid few inches above even with the goblin's boots taken into account, with clenched fists on her burly waist. Her jawline was strong and her nose was broad and thick, blonde eyebrows creased above her pretty blue eyes while her soaked hair, separated into four unevenly lengthed braids running down her back, continued dripping with the beverage. She was wearing a headband, now saturated by the brew, and attired in full iron battle gear with a shield on her back and a hand axe on her hip, indicating her occupation as a warrior, likely a mercenary."You'er the one goin' around bumpin' into folks like a right bewt!"

"I don' know what that means but I doubt yer apologisin'..." Without backing down in the slightest, Min advanced against the fair-haired dwarf without breaking eye contact until their bodies were touching. The two intensely stared daggers into one another, Min's sodden bust squished against the dwarf's chestplate as the goblin tilted her neck upwards a little. All gazes watched on in utter silence, expecting a grudge match between the two women to break out any minute now, but the duo was anti-climatically divided by a third pair of hands moments before they could butt heads.

"Hiiildaaa...!" The owner of these hands whined, revealing the dwarf's name. "I look away for two seconds and you're already getting into a scuffle again! You promised you wouldn't while we were in town!" The mediator was a halfling, yet another diminutive race whose population was widespread throughout the occidental countries. Halflings are generally timid folk who spend much of their days in their cosy hamlets working simple jobs no more complicated than field work. Almost paradoxically, however, is a halfling's endless curiosity. Many of them, especially young adults, end up leaving their tranquil birthplaces at least one point in their long lives, ranging from as short as a couple of weeks to as long as a few decades, to see what this world has to offer outside of eating, sleeping and ploughing while also presenting the chance for them to partake in grand feats to retell back home as tales for future generations to remember them by. Some even end up moving into the bigger towns and cities permanently, finding themselves unable to return back to a humdrum existence. Thanks to their innate cunning and nimbleness, they are more capable than one may originally assume.

Ignoring their obvious low stature, halflings were characterised by their thick, curled hair, round ears somewhat larger than that of a human's and - perhaps most notable -- their typical complete lack of footwear in thanks to the hyperdense tissue comprising their feet negating the need for such items, although some still wore shoes or boots purely for cosmetic reasons as it oft denoted a symbol of affluence, and was the case with this specific member of their race. This specific brunette specimen's locks kinked past her shoulders and her ears stuck ever so slightly out from underneath. Her thin eyebrows furrowed over her wide eyes, the colour of which matched her hair perfectly. Her facial structure was softer than the dwarf's, round and even a little plump, with a cute button nose in the centre of her features. She was wearing a long, elaborate black coat, kept open while inside to reveal a smart burgundy vest and white shirt combination complete with a frilly cravat and a dark pair of trousers, giving off the aura of one with substantial wealth.

"C'mon, Penny, just one punch! This munchkin wouldn't be able to handle it." Hilda said as she tried pushing against her companion's contending arm.

"Who you callin' a munchkin, fatso!?" Min tried a tackle against the dwarf, only to have Penny prevent her doing so.

"I'm stocky! Not fat!" Hilda growled through gritted teeth, unaware from her anger she was squashing the halfling between herself and her competitor.

"Hilda!" Penny called out her associate's name in vain again as she was crushed.

"Alright, alright! Time out!" Min said, taking a step back and a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth, running her hand over her half-bald head. "Let's sort this shit out th' goblin way! No clawin or scrathin', guaranteed!" Min proposed.

"I dunno...you'ev frustrated me to no end...it's gonna take a lot to help me vent now." The dwarf replied, her grimace not once letting up.

"Oh, ye'll get to vent

plenty

this way, lemme tell ya~!" Min snickered. "Name's Min, by the way, thanks for askin'" The goblin gave a last-minute introduction.

"The pleasure's ours..." Penny responded, trying to remain as civilised as she could in the circumstances, dusting off her jacket and fixing her hair. "My name is Penelope Copperpockets. My colleague here is Brunhilda Brasspick." Hilda merely scoffed and crossed her arms upon the mention of her full name. "I'm a travelling merchant travels about this region. Hilda here is an old friend who is acting as my bodyguard."

"Okay, ya can shut up now. I didn' ask for yer life story." Min interrupted the anecdote, half-listening. "Sooo...ya got a bed within walkin' distance or what? Let's get this over with already."

Penny calmed and convinced her partner to go along with what was Min had in mind. Whatever it was, it was bound to be better than a daylight slugfest at the expense of both their reputations, and her and Hilda just so happened to have a room rented out at an inn not too far from the tavern, which Min requested they went to for this particular method. Of course, with this naughty little goblin around, the trio's clothes did not stay on their persons for much longer after entering the rented chamber and even further asked that they pushed the two separate beds together, though the redhead reassured them this was all part of her method. Now the three little people were lounging in a circle on the conjoined mattresses and stripped utterly bare, with Min's bright lime flesh standing out against the halfling and dwarf's more mundane skin tones as she sat with her legs out to the side.

Meanwhile, Hilda possessed a broad figure out of her protective gear just as much as she did in it with several recent and not-so-recent battle scratches decorating her unarmoured torso. Her bust was not quite to the same level as Min's buxom chest but still impressive by its own merits nonetheless. If she had one thing over the curvaceous goblin, it would be that her physique was built like a small tank! Underneath her breasts and where her beefy arms were tensely crossed, her wide stomach was decorated with a visible six-pack as she knelt on the sturdy legs that supported her trunk, with a dense, dark blonde carpet between her thick, toned thighs that tapered towards the top, culminating in a thin happy trail to her navel.

Penny however was not quite as so blessed with her bosom compare her evening's companions, possessing a pair of perky lady mounds. On the whole, she was nowhere near as buff as Hilda nor quite as voluptuous as Min, being much slimmer and petite in stature. Even among the shorter races, halflings were considered tiny. She sat slightly hunched over, crossed legged with her hands between them, trying her best to slyly cover her not-as-impressive mammaries with her slender arms and her tassel of deep brown pubic hairs with her palms.

"Is this

really

how goblins settle their arguments...?" The sceptical Penny asked.

"Sure it is! Me and me mates do it all the time!" Min assured the halfling. "Nothin' like a good tussel in the sack to let off some steam and feel good about it. We don' even remember what started it by the time we're finished, it works that well!" Penny flashed a distrustful look towards the green-skinned girl.

"Well, I'll show you how dwarves sort these things out then~!" Hilda showed a smirk and chuckled deeply. "Penny, be a pal and grab my bag."

"Hilda...you're going to use...

those

, are you?" Penny's face turned grim but she did as she was asked regardless, reaching down to a hoist a satchel off the floor lying next to a nightstand and placed it onto the mattress. "Why did I even get naked in the first place anyway...?" She questioned as she did. Before a real reason could be given, Hilda took the sack from her associate, unfastening its strap and reached in only to slowly pull out a pair of long objects clanking together back out, curved almost at a complete 90 degree angle and made from a smooth, metallic material, each having some sort of harness attached roughly to their midway point along where a little, silver ball appeared to have been built into it both.

"What in the Hel are those!?" Min asked, confused and intrigued all at once.

"The pinnacle of dwarven engineering!" Hilda proudly boasted. "Someone I know back home came up with 'em and Penny offered to take them out for a market test, but they're still just prototypes at the moment though. Think you can handle them working out the bugs?"

"Pffft! Is the king of Snjórland a lard-arse? I can take it!" Min bragged with a snort. "No creepy-crawlies though. That ain't me niche."

"Famous last words..." The dwarf mumbled before chucking one of the phalluses to Penny who fumbled to catch it. "Remember how to use it, Pen?" Hilda asked as she stood up on the mattress, legs apart and gripping onto one end of the bent iron iron as she held it against her slit. Slowly, she pulled the tip of the steel sausage inside her vulva, stretching out her lower hole and clogging her tight insides, struggling to slide it deep within her muscled cunt. After much huffing and effort though, Hilda succeeded embedding half the metal object inside her pussy and swiftly fastened the various straps around her waist and the insides of her legs.

"Hang about, I've seen one of those before!" Min said, finally recognising the contraption. "How are they the pineapple a' dwarven in-the-rearing or whatever?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Hilda pinched on the tiny sphere between her finger and thumb and sharply tugged on it outwards, revealing it to be attached to a string within the phallus. A whirring noise could be heard coming from inside the device when this was done, but no other apparent effects were caused. "Uh...wait a bit..." Hilda said as she frantically tugged on the cord twice more before it finally worked as intended. The rudely shaped device began to harshly vibrate with a mechanical buzz. Hilda recoiled and gasped from the jolt she felt from the immediate activation of the tool, her legs quivering as she grew weak in the knees but refusing to fall and ruin her tough exterior.