Shortstacs in Another World 03

Chapter 3: Negotiating with Gnomes

Clavery was in trouble, but she would worry about that in a bit. She had a more pressing matter to attend to. Specifically, the vibrating pseudo-phallus she was pressing into her vulva. Clavery had built it herself. She didn't know if anyone else had ever built such a thing, or if her invention was unique to the world. She certainly wasn't going to ask if anyone else was building a tool for masturbating. The dickheads at the artificers guild would laugh at her for suggesting women needed something like that, and the catty bitches at her mother's jewelers guild would be shocked and appalled if she brought something like that up. As if they needed more fuel for their gossip; they'd been calling Clavery a slut ever since her boobs grew bigger than theirs.

Clavery didn't think about them, either.

She focused on repeatedly pushing the device deeper inside her then pulling it back out. With her other hand she massaged her breast and pinched her nipple. She fell back on her usual sexual fantasy: a tall intrepid hero carried her away from her life on his mighty steed and then they made sweet love in his palace. She would have died of embarrassment if anyone found out she had such girly fantasies. Maybe it was a good thing she was dying in the morning. She pulled the pseudo-phallus out one last time and focused on her clit, letting the vibration move through her and causing her to shudder in orgasm. She caught her breath and she basked in the bliss of an empty mind while her pseudo-phallus ran down and eventually stopped vibrating. She considered winding it up again, but masturbating had lost its shine and she figured it was past time she considered her peril.

She inserted the pseudo-phallus back inside her, which is where she'd had it hidden when the deep elves caught her brothers and her and threw her in this cell. That was the only reason they hadn't taken it; they had confiscated everything else except her clothes. She regretted that she'd never be able to make the 15 cm pseudo-phallus she'd been thinking about making. She chuckled. Here she was, about to die, and her last thoughts were on her masturbation aids. Her current one was 10 cm, already a full 3 cm longer than what she'd heard was the average male gnome's phallus, and here she wanted to go bigger. Maybe it was a good thing she didn't talk about this with others. She might embarrass the men she worked with.

She briefly considered staying nude, as she had the cell to herself, but if one of the deep elves came in, she didn't want to give them any ideas.

Clavery stood up to her full 98 cm height and stretched. She wished she were 2 cm taller. She was already quite tall for a gnome, but it would be nice to be an even 100 cm. She pulled her panties out of her left work boot and pulled them up over her wide hips. She wished she had narrow hips like her brothers; hers always bumped into things in the workshop. Then she pulled her bra out of her right work boot and put it on. She felt the same way about her breasts as she did about her hips. Then she stepped into her coveralls. Her mother bemoaned her lack of fashion sense, but these were more comfortable and practical. Then she put on her work boots (which she liked because they brought her up to an even 100cm) and laced them up. She'd kept her socks on because she didn't trust the dungeon floor. Finally, she straightened out her short, spiky red hair, which tended to get mussed up when she masturbated.

She reclined on her bunk and considered her peril. Her dumbass brothers had talked her into coming to a shady deal for some rare metals and they'd been captured by deep elves, or delfs. She and her brothers had been strip-searched and then she had been thrown into this cell after being told that she would be fed to the spiders in the morning. She didn't know where her brothers were. She assumed they were in another cell or cells like hers. She hoped they weren't being tortured, or being fed to the spiders already. Even if it would serve them right for getting her caught up in this, she still hoped they were okay.

She counted her options. It didn't take long. She could try picking the lock, but then where would she go? She didn't know where her brothers were, and she would probably encounter guards who would just capture her again. Plus, who knows what they'd do to her if they caught her. She could kill herself so she wouldn't have to face the spiders, but that had essentially the same ending as waiting for the morning and letting the spiders kill her. It had the attraction of being on her own terms, though. And she'd deprive a spider of a snack. She put that in the maybe pile.

So those were her three options: try to escape, kill herself, or wait to die. Two ended in death, and the third might lead to a fate worse than death. Those were terrible options.

There was a fourth option. She could pray to Shorsena, goddess of the small races. Clavery had read many stories about Shorsena. She often showed up in the romance stories Clavery hoped no one found out she read. In many stories, the maiden prayed to Shorsena and then a gallant hero would fight the monsters and rescue the maiden. As much as she loved these stories, they weren't realistic. As far as she knew, when Shorsena's faithful were in hopeless situations, they tended to just disappear. Traps and cells were empty, and no trace of the women were ever found again. That's why Shorsena was sometimes called the goddess of last resort. While she was mainly a fertility goddess, women only prayed to her for rescue when they had nothing left to lose.

Did that apply to Clavery? Her options seemed to extend to being eaten by spiders, or being tortured and then eaten by spiders. And killing herself. She didn't consider herself a particularly pious person. She would say she followed Wrenka, the god of artifice, but that was because all the artificers did. And he didn't do much to help people escape delf prisons, just to invent new machines.

After considering her options, Clavery concluded that she did indeed have nothing left to lose. If she prayed to Shorsena and was taken away she could not help her brothers, but there wasn't anything she could do for them as it was. Not unless spiders were scared of vibrating pseudo-phalluses. Logically, this was her best option.

She knelt on the floor. It was polite to kneel before gods, right? If she got out of this she'd have to ask someone. "Shorsena," she began, "goddess of the fertility of the small races, storied savior of maidens trapped in cells. I am a maiden trapped in a cell. I am asking you for help. I would like a handsome hero, as the stories describe, but if you just want to transport me out of this world, that's fine, too. I have lost all hope of survival. I wish I could help my brothers, but there's nothing I can do for them. If you could save them, too, I would be grateful." She paused to think about what she just said. "But I guess you can't do much with gratitude. Tell you what, if you get me out of this, I'll find a priest who can tell me what to do for you. How's that?" She would do it, too. If she said she would do something, she meant it. "I will wait here." How did you close a prayer? Was it like a letter? "Love, Clavery." She sat back. She felt a bit silly, but at least no one was around to see it. Except Shorsena, if she listened. She laid back on her bunk and waited.

She didn't wait long. She'd barely tucked her hands behind her head before she heard the door to her cell block open, followed by a scuffle and protests. A dwarf came into view, dragged by the six delfs it took to subdue her. Another delf carried a goblin. Both were spitting threats at their captors. The eighth delf unlocked and slid open the door of the cell across from Clavery's and his companions threw their captives in.

The dwarf and goblin threw themselves at the bars.

"Let me out and fight me one on one, you cowards!" the dwarf shouted. She banged on the bars until Clavery thought they might actually break.

"Give back husband!" the goblin cried and banged on the bars.

"Don't worry," one of the delfs sneered, "you'll get to see him in the morning."

"Or what's left of him!" another delf responded. The rest of the delfs thought this was uproariously funny and laughed on their way out of the room.

After they left, the dwarf pounded the bars a few more times and growled in frustration. Then she burst into tears. "They've taken him," she cried. "They've taken him and he's going to die, and it's all my fault!" She slumped to her knees.

The goblin hugged her. She was crying too. "It not you fault. It delfs' fault."

Normally, Clavery would have sighed at hearing another woman crying about losing her man. Clavery felt for this dwarf; her husband hadn't left her, he'd been taken by delfs, just as Clavery's brothers had been.

The dwarf picked up the goblin and held her to her chest, squishing her between two boobs that Clavery noticed were even bigger than hers, and almost as big as the goblin's torso.

"I should have fought them off," the dwarf moaned, rocking back and forth. "I could have killed them if Allan hadn't told me not to."

"There were this many," the goblin said, holding up all her fingers. "You kill one, one kill me, one kill Allan, lots kill you."

"I know," the dwarf murmured, "I just don't like feeling so powerless. I swore I would protect him, and now he's going to die to spiders."

Clavery's pointed ears perked up. She could get out of her cell, but she couldn't fight. This dwarf might be able to fight, but probably couldn't get out of her cell. And this 'Allan' was probably wherever her brothers were.

She stood up and walked to the door of her cell. "Hey," she said in a soft voice. "You okay?"

The dwarf and the goblin looked up at her. The dwarf wiped her eyes. "Sorry," she said, "we must have been loud."

"I didn't ask you to apologize," Clavery said, "I asked if you were okay."

The dwarf set the goblin down and stood up. Clavery's artificer eyes estimated her at about 125 cm, while the goblin was about 63 cm. She also noticed that the goblin had a huge ass. Clavery thought her ass bumped into everything, but the goblin's was twice as wide as the rest of her.

"Not really," said the dwarf. "You probably heard it already, but the delfs took our husband from us."

Clavery looked up at the dwarf, then down at the goblin, then back up at the dwarf. "You're shitting me," she said, "there's no way you have the same husband."

The dwarf chuckled. "I know it sounds crazy," she said, "but we do."

Clavery's eyes darted between the two again. "So," she said, "is he a dwarf or a goblin?"

The dwarf shook her head. "Neither," she said, "he's a human."

Clavery gave her a long look before speaking. "Now I know you're shitting me. What kind of human marries a dwarf and a goblin? Don't they all wanna fuck elves and orks and shit? You know, big folk?"

The goblin laughed. "Our husband not like that," she said, "he Shorsena's apple."

The dwarf held up a finger and addressed the goblin like a teacher correcting a child. "Apostle, Fern. Allan is Shorsena's apostle."

Clavery didn't want to believe her. Apostles were mythical messengers of the gods. She was less likely to run into one than she was to become queen of the gnomes. Except that she had literally prayed to Shorsena for a hero not five minutes before. On the other hand, Clavery figured Shorsena was only slightly likelier to answer her prayer than to choose an apostle.

She decided she believed the dwarf approximately 5%.

She shook her head to clear it. "All right," she said, "what would you do if you got out of this cell?"

The dwarf gripped the bars of the cell. "I would get my weapons," she said, "rescue our husband, and kill every delf that stood in my way."

"You can fight?" Clavery asked.

"I'm a paladin of Shorsena," said the dwarf, "I can fight."

Shorsena again. Belief: 10%. Clavery didn't know how a paladin of a fertility goddess would compare to one of say, a god of war, but she could probably do well against a few delf guards. She made up her mind.

Clavery turned her back to the other cell and unbuttoned the front of her coveralls. "I might be able to help with that," she said, "give me a second." She pulled her panties down. "So Allan told you to surrender?"

"Yes," said the dwarf. "He was probably right; we were surrounded. Still boils my blood, though."

Clavery reached inside of herself for the pseudo-phallus. "How could some delfs get the drop on an apostle?"

"Honestly," said the dwarf, "sometimes Allan gets these ideas in his head, like when he led us down those tunnels."

"He hear music," said the goblin.

"Music?" Clavery asked. She extracted the device from herself and was wiped it off on the inside of her coveralls.

"He'll make decisions and say things like 'the song's not right yet,' or 'there's a rhythm this way,'" explained the dwarf. "But he's never been able to explain what he means. I don't even know if it's an apostle thing or a bard thing."

Clavery unscrewed the top of her pseudo-phallus. The engine actually took up very little room, so she had put a few small tools on the inside, just in case. Gnomes liked to stash tools wherever they could. "So the goddess of fertility chose a bard to be her champion." She buttoned up her coveralls and stashed the pseudo-phallus in her pocket. "That tracks."

She turned around and reached through the bars to insert the screwdrivers into the lock.

"Where were you keeping those?" asked the dwarf.

Clavery glanced at her and smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. She turned back to the lock. "The delfs probably put your husband wherever they put my brothers, so we have the same target."

"Do you know what you're doing?" asked the dwarf.

"Any artificer worth their salt knows how a lock works," Clavery said. "And if you know how a lock works..." she heard the lock click and slid open the cell door, "...you can pick it."

The dwarf's eyes got wide and the goblin started jumping up and down and exclaiming "do us! Do us! Do us!"

"Yeah yeah, just a second," Clavery said, getting her screwdrivers. She got to work on the other door. "My name's Clavery, by the way," she said, "what's yours?"

"Stolna," said the dwarf, "and this excited goblin is Fern."

"Just to warn you, I'll probably forget those in like five seconds," said Fern, "but it's nice to meet you." The lock clicked and she opened the door. "Now, let's go save our boys, eh?"

Fern, the goblin, crept to the cell block door and pressed one of her 13 cm long ears to it. She crept back and said "two guards. One each side."

Stolna, the dwarf, walked up to the heavy wooden door, which opened inward, and sized it up. To Clavery's amazement she then kicked it, shattering it and sending shards flying. Then she leapt into the hallway beyond, tackled the guard on the left, grabbed his spear, then used it to beat both guards unconscious.

Clavery gaped in awe. This girl could fight! Her belief in Stolna's words rose to about 18%.

Fern ran up to join Stolna and cocked her ears. "Something's coming," she announced.

"Delfs?" Stolna asked.

The goblin shook her head. "Not sure."

Stolna grabbed the second guard's spear and handed it to Clavery. "Have you ever used one of these?" she asked.

Clavery shook her head.

"It's easy," said the dwarf. "You see a delf, poke it with that end." She hoisted her own spear and braced herself for whatever was coming.

Clavery struggled with the spear that was 183 cm long, almost twice as long as she was. She nearly dropped it when a giant spider came into view. Her trust dropped to 15%.

Then Fern suddenly shouted "Husband!" and sprinted straight at the spider. Right before she reached it, she leaped over its head -- catching about 140 cm of air by Clavery's reckoning -- and landed in the arms of the man riding the beast. It was a human, she realized, dressed in the bright colors of a bard. The goblin pelted his face with kisses.

Stolna raised her spear point. "Allan!" she cried, "what are you doing here!?"

The human managed to pry the enthusiastic goblin away from his face long enough to answer. "I came to rescue you," he said, "but it looks like you didn't need it. You two impress me more every day."

Stolna blushed and gestured to Clavery. "She's actually the one who got us out of the cell."

The human, Allan, smiled at her. "You must be Clavery," he said. "Thank you for freeing my wives."

Clavery was definitely NOT flustered by being thanked by this tall bard who was only a little good looking. She was definitely NOT putting on a tough facade when she answered "oh, uh, no biggie, but, um, how did you know my name?"

"Clavery!" shouted a voice from behind the spider. Clavery tore her eyes away from Allan's not-bad face to see her brothers squeezing past the spider's legs. She briefly considered pointing her spear at them, but thought better of it and let Buruno, Tonat, and Repan grab her in a hug. She was glad to see them, after all, even if their affection was embarrassing her in front of the okay looking human that she was only 23% sure was an apostle of Shorsena.

"How?" she asked, totally not tearing up in front of the average looking man on a giant spider, "how did you get out?"

"It was Allan," Buruno said, "when the delfs released the spider on us, he started singing this song and then walked up and pet the spider like a puppy. Then he got on its back and rode it up into the arena stands. Of course all the delfs watching ran away after that and we were able to make our escape."

A bard who could tame a giant spider by singing to it? 34% possibility of being an apostle.

"It turns out," Allan said, "that the spider didn't like being there any more than us, so she's agreed to join us in our escape."

"She?" said the goblin, "you take another wife?"

Allan laughed.

Clavery noticed that his eyes crinkled up in the corners when he laughed. Not that she cared.

"No, sweetie," he said, stroking the goblin's hair, "I'm pretty sure this species eats their mates. We'll part ways after we leave delf territory. Speaking of which," he looked over his shoulder. "We should get going. I imagine they'll send the guards on us, soon."

They quickly made their way to the armory. Allan rode on the spider's back. Stolna rode behind him, gripping him like a child holding a plush toy that was bigger than them. Fern rode on his lap. None of the gnomes opted to ride the spider, and after much consideration, Clavery decided that she was absolutely NOT jealous of a goblin. Not at all.

Stolna knocked out the armory guards and they made their way inside. They all grabbed their possessions that had been stored there. When Clavery saw Stolna in her armor and holding her hammer and shield, she was convinced she was the paladin of Shorsena she claimed to be. But she was still only 43% convinced Allan was an apostle.

Fern stood guard at the door, her ears twitching this way and that. "Allan," she hissed, "they come."

Stolna had armed each of the gnomes with a spear and crossbow. She told them to use the crossbow first, and then follow her with the spears while she led the charge.

The gnomes shook with fear. They were inventors, not fighters!

It seemed that Allan noticed. "Let me try something," he said, then started to play a tune on his lute. Within moments, Clavery's gained control of her fear. She felt focused, but not foolhardy. She knew the danger, but her will to survive overcame that. 51%. There was something about this man, for sure. She gripped her crossbow and spear and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. A platoon of guards came around the corner. As soon as they appeared, everyone in Allan's group released their crossbows. Two of the delfs fell. With a yell, Stolna charged forward, shield first. The rest of the group took up the yell and charged. Clavery wasn't sure if their spears took out any of the delfs, but they at least distracted them long enough for Stolna to work her righteous fury among them with her hammer. Like the incarnation of a goddess's fury, she set to work, breaking bones and shattering shields. 53%.