I hope you'll indulge me.
Not every chapter in this volume will be an encounter with one of my great loves or implacable enemies. Sometimes it will merely be a night of carnal bliss that I treasure, with no greater significance beyond its fond place in my memories. This is a story of such a night, though true to form it lasted through the following day.
The story takes place in Steelhelm, a town barely on the Rhandonian side of the border with Svarlskell. Though Steelhelm's blacksmithing industry makes it important, it is in an area of the world almost impossible to render safe. The area cannot support produce enough food for an expansive population, and the treacherous roads make travel in and out difficult. The incredible thing was not that a gang of bandits had captured it, merely that it had taken one until now to do so.
We happened through on the trail for the lost city of Milgoghur and gratefully stopped at Steelhelm to stock up on provisions. The tension in the air was like iron, and before long we ran afoul of the gang that had taken over. They'd had a darkling champion and a tentacled...
thing
they'd pulled out of the mountains. This made them more than a match for the city watch.
For us, they were barely a challenge. The champion and the creature provided some difficulty, but Alia slew the former and I the latter, and the few bandits who survived our wrath fled into the mountains.
Steelhelm was rapturous with gratitude. An impromptu festival of celebration took over the town. While the whole thing was wonderful, what lingers was what the local brothel did for us. Servicing the craftsmen, miners, and merchants who had made Steelhelm wealthy, it was far more richly appointed than Steelhelm's rugged mountain location might have implied. From the outside, it looked like a miniature castle, its stones quarried from the local granite.
The first day of the festival, we had fun in the streets, celebrating with the newly liberated townsfolk who were only too happy to share all they had with us. Xeiliope played with the local children, Velena danced to music in the street, Alia flirted with the mayor's daughter, and I sampled food from every street vendor and shop front.
Though the Mythseekers had not reached the height of our fame nor our power--that would happen during that damnable war--we were arguably near the pinnacle of our reputation. For those who had heard our name we were admired as academics with a heroic streak. What we did at Steelhelm soon spread through both Rhandonia, Svarlskell, and beyond.
Xeiliope was perhaps the most renowned Axichan in the world. Their people were insular and largely confined to a few islands in the Turquoise Sea. She was a source of fascination, not in the least because of her beauty. She was especially attractive to women, even those without explicit Eupheric desires, as her muscular frame and short hair tended to awaken curiosities. Alia, whose desires were almost entirely Eupheric, often expressed annoyance at how nearly every pretty young woman we rescued wanted Xeiliope's attention.
As for the little rogue, she too was becoming known. This was normally something those in her profession liked to avoid, but Alia was famous for stealing from the dead. She had grown less reckless, more deliberate in her methods. This only made her a more effective treasure hunter and a terrifying combatant.
Velena, our leader, had settled into the role well. We all trusted her implicitly, and she was skilled at incorporating our areas of expertise. She kept us whole as well, in body, mind, and spirit. That last point was where she would eventually fail with me, but that was still a little ways off. For now, I loved the three of them as my dearest friends.
When night fell, I was sitting on a boardwalk, sharing a skewer of charred meat with Oddrin when a lovely young half-elf approached through the crowd. As her green eyes met mine, a smile stretched over her face, at once happy, knowing, and filled with promise.
Her strawberry blonde hair was piled high on her head, secured in place with combs made of shell, drawing the eye to her pointed ears. She wore a costume of silk and brocade in greens and golds, a corset around her narrow waist, her modest breasts pushed up with generous cleavage on display. This fell to a skirt that was longer in the back than in the front. Her long legs peeked from the folds with each step, showing off knee-length boots with a prominent heel. A silken ribbon was tied about her graceful neck.
"Master Wizard, my name is Isellynor," she said bowing. "Mistress Genofeva requests the honor of your presence at Comfort House."
"Comfort House?"
"Mistress Genofeva's establishment. You must have seen it." She gestured up the street, and I could see the castle's parapets peeking up over the other structures.
"Oh yes. Just me?"
"We sent someone for each of you. Now, will you be good enough to follow me?"
I let Oddrin have the last bit of meat from the skewer and followed Isellynor up the street. The little night eft flapped up to the eaves of Comfort House to start his watch. As I arrived, Xeiliope was being led inside by a young woman with black hair, gazing up lovingly at the amazon with bright blue eyes. I would learn later her name was Vadoma, and she had an exceptionally sensitive navel.
The woman at the door was in her early middle age but no less gorgeous than any of the younger women. Her black and red costume hugged her voluptuous frame and her scarlet hair was in a high and complex style. As Isellynor escorted me into the small antechamber that formed the entryway, the older woman gave me a short bow. "Our last arrival. Welcome, my hero. You will enjoy your time in my establishment."
The woman then stood in front of the door and bellowed onto the street. "People of Steelhelm! You have given our heroes the Mythseekers a wonderful welcome! Now it is time for the velvet pleasures of Comfort House! These doors are closed to patrons until sunset tomorrow. If you find you need us...use your hands!"
A lusty roar went up from the townsfolk, and she shut the door with a smile. She followed Isellynor and I though the inner door, guarded by a muscular half-orc woman, into the main room of the brothel.
This chamber was expansive, and I imagined on a normal night, it would have served as a place for the clientele to await their appointments. A bar took up one side, and behind it, a pretty gnomish woman polished glasses with a welcoming smile. The stone walls were covered in erotic tapestries that I recognized as copies of plates in the
Eroticum Kharsoomium
. The center of the room was taken up by four ivory tubs, currently being filled with steaming water by a pair of burly dwarf women clad in simple linens. The wall opposite the bar was a low stage where four soft couches waited.
My companions stood near the tubs, each with a young woman dressed like Isellynor, but each in a different color. My escort led me to them. The look in Alia's eyes was like a child gazing at fresh-baked pastry, while Velena's breath was quick with adorable nervousness.
"This is a nice surprise," I observed.
"Quite a collection of beauty," Xeiliope said.
"I want to keep them," Alia said.
"Welcome, Mythseekers!" bellowed the mistress. "I am Genofeva and this is the famed Comfort House of Steelhelm. If the four of you do not have a night and a day you do not cherish for the rest of your days, I will close my doors in shame."
"We did not do what we did for a reward," Velena said.
