The dwarven boy named Vercival was in his usual hiding spot, near the castle window overlooking the courtyard where he could catch a glimpse of the elven women bathing. He was standing on a stool so he could peer over the ledge of the window sill and see around the corner where the large fountain was where they stood naked, pouring crystal water over their glistening bodies and enjoying casual conversation together in their supposed privacy. It wasn't uncommon for the young ones to be caught peeping on them, but in Vercival's case, he was nearing a hundred years of age despite his short stature and youthful features. Dwarves aged especially slowly, and were known to be rather immature compared to other races. He acted just like a young boy might, perhaps a bit more wisened from experience, but that didn't stop him from enjoying a good wank as often as he could.
His pants were down around his ankles and he was pulling on his cock while he stared out the window with eager eyes on the naked elves. They were so tall compared to him, and so elegant, that it made their current nudity even more scandalous. Even better, they were incredibly consistent in their bathing routines, so he could usually sneak off to masturbate to them each evening. This part of the castle was usually deserted at this time as the last meal of the day was being prepared. He just had to finish his chores, which he always did dutifully, and not report back to the headmistress until after his fun was over.
One of the elven women was especially beautiful to him, with long flowing blonde hair and a wonderfully plump rack. The elven women had no body hair to speak of, so if she happened to bend over he would get a good look at her clam and round ass. Even when she was standing upright, he saw her soft slit between her legs, and imagining being able to touch her there was usually enough to send him over the edge. He winced as his balls tightened and the familiar tingling sensation began burning in his loins. He kept jerking himself below the window and squirted a modest load against the stone wall, splashing watery cum onto his boots accidentally. He always seemed to forget about his aim in the heat of the moment.
With a ragged sigh, Vercival emptied the last of his load onto the floor and absently squeezed his spent cock while watching the elven women finish their bathing session. He blew a kiss to the blonde one, though she would never know his passion for her, and quickly pulled his pants up over his dangling boner. Yet another jerking session done in secret, numbering into the thousands by this point, and he would quickly return to the servant's station where the headmistress would dismiss him for the night and he could venture out into town and explore the city for himself.
As he bounded down the castle steps, he passed by the countless tapestries and opulent decorations of the royal family who lived in this castle. Fontaine was home to the noble Rominary family, whose lineage had ruled the kingdom for centuries. It was rumored that their family had begun their rule during the first appearance of the Demon King. Somehow they had survived all of his crusades and continued to defend their country throughout those difficult times when there was no military force to speak of. How the Demon King had managed to be held off this long was as much a mystery as his appearance in the lands itself. Vercival had seen his share of campaigns against the Demon King, and was well aware that it was time for yet another one any day now.
The headmistress was waiting for him to join the lineup of other castle servants at the bottom of the stairs in the common area where multiple corridors branched off from. She was wearing a maid's outfit, a plain patterned dress beneath a thick apron and a kerchief tying her hair up, and her face had a knowing scowl on it. She wasn't a mean woman but she was stern when it came to following the house rules of the castle.
"Vercival," she said, nodding to him. "Late again, eh?"
Vercival gave her a sheepish smile as she took his place in line. The other servants were like him, dwarves who looked younger than they were and a few orc children who were actually young. The headmistress was a plain looking woman but she had spots along her forehead that identified her as half-orc. The other half was a mystery and she didn't talk openly about herself, so no one knew what else she might be. She walked down the line of servants and looked down at Vercival, specifically his boots.
He blushed. "I, uh...got mop water on them."
The headmistress narrowed her eyes at him at first, but then she just snorted. "You best be watching your aim then."
Vercival turned bright red, knowing he was caught, but grateful that she didn't say anything further on the subject. So she knew he secretly jerked off in one of the spare rooms, it seemed! It wasn't the worst thing to let a century-old man do, and he couldn't help his urges since his body stayed young.
He scratched at his tousled brown hair nervously and flashed her a smile. "I'll...do that."
Once the servants were dismissed for the night, he practically ran out of the castle and into the cobblestone street just outside near the gate. There was a line of people casually making their way home from the castle, not in a big hurry and enjoying casual conversation along the way. Vercival was not so patient and hurried around them all, causing a few of them to playfully chide him for his rudeness. He just smiled and waved at them as he passed by and followed the street as it led him into the heart of Fontaine.
It was easy to mistake him for a young boy, truthfully, but upon closer inspection he held some slight wrinkles around his eyes and some muscled heft beneath his tunic. He was small but not some skinny child who couldn't work the hardest jobs. He had been a lot of things in his long life, a smelter and a mill operator, both of which were very tasking assignments, but he found he rather enjoyed the simple life of a castle servant. Dwarves were known for their lack of ambition due to their long lives, much preferring to find their pleasures in small things like jerking off at windows and falling asleep under a tree somewhere. He could be chasing other dwarven women instead, but he was a bit of a pervert even by dwarven standards. Not that he wouldn't enjoy some tight pussy once in a while...
As he rounded a street corner, he saw a line of traveling merchants leading a wagon into town and had to swerve to avoid them, nearly startling their horse. After he was past them, he wormed through a small crowd of townsfolk that were gathered in conversation outside a tavern and emerged around the side of the small building. A cloaked figure was standing there as if waiting for him, though it was more likely a coincidence.
Vercival stopped short and stared at the person. They were tall and their face was obscured by the hood of their cloak, but when they smiled at seeing him he could see now that it was a woman. The shape of the mouth gave her away.
"You there," she spoke, her voice low and slick. "Dwarf boy. Want to make some scratch?"
Vercival was quite experienced in his nearly hundred years of age, so he knew quite well not to blindly accept this kind of proposal from a complete stranger in a dark alley. It didn't take a lot of head smarts to grasp this.
"No thanks," he said firmly, turning to leave quickly.
"Are you sure?" The woman reached up and pulled her hood back slowly, revealing a pale face with jet black hair cut sharply across the bangs and reddish eyes with white pupils. Above her pointed ears, two twisting crimson horns protruded around the sides of her skull. She was no elven woman, for sure. "You haven't heard my offer yet."
Vercival felt on edge suddenly. This was not the type of encounter that one would want to have. "Who are you?"
The woman lifted her hand in front of her and held her palm upright, using some kind of magic to materialize a wisp of swirling light within her grasp. The swirl of light became a tangible orb, purplish in color, and the orb's smooth roundness changed to hardened crystal. Within moments she was holding a precious gemstone in her hand, sparkling with value. Such an object would fetch a year's wage, easily.
Vercival licked his lips. "What do you want?"
The woman cocked her head, her smile remaining on her lips. "I want you to deliver a message for me."
Vercival was cautious, but that gemstone was too tempting to completely ignore her request. "What message, and to who?"
The woman flitted her fingers and the gemstone casually floated through the air toward Vercival, stopping right in front of his face. He watched it hover there and hesitated to grab it, as if it might burn him or he would succumb to a spell of some sort.
"Go on," the woman said. "This is my show of trust."
Vercival found himself reaching out for the gemstone and easily grasped it now, feeling its weight in his hand. It was the real deal, either conjured from nothing by this sorceress or summoned from somewhere hidden. Either way, she was giving it to him for only the promise that he would do as she asked. He feared that there was a more sinister element to this deal, and he was now impelled to obey her or else she could easily hunt him down.
"Tell your headmistress..." the woman said, lowering her face a bit and eyeing him closely, "...that the Lord Frederus Rominary will receive the Chosen Two upon the morrow."
Vercival's eyes widened at the notion. It was to be expected soon, he knew, but who was this woman that she could know the exact timing of it? They must already have been summoned from another world by now and were headed here, if this were true. What was this woman's role in their arrival?
"That's it?" Vercival said, still distracted by the gemstone in his hand as he imagined what he would do with so much money all at once.
The woman slowly pulled her hood back over her head, obscuring her face once again. "Lord Rominary is to keep them in the castle until they transform. When this occurs, he will receive further instruction."
Vercival was somewhat aware of the expected transformation that the Chosen Two experienced, though the average person like him didn't have the details of how it happened. However, he knew he was just a plain servant boy and the Lord Rominary wouldn't even think of entertaining a message from one such as him. That must be why she instructed him to pass it along to the headmistress instead, knowing that she would carry it on further until it surely reached the Lord's ears.
"They won't believe me," Vercival admitted. "You must know this."
The woman stepped backward into the shadows and seemed to disappear altogether. "Tell them that the daughter of the Demon King has given her assurance of his success."
In a smoky wisp, the woman became a shadow and flew away into the night. Vercival was left standing there with an open mouth and rapidly beating heart. Was that really the spawn of the Demon King? Was it possible that such a villain actually had children? The thought sent shivers down Vercival's spine, but the gemstone was still too good to throw away now that he knew where it came from. It was very bad luck to accept something from the spawn of the Demon King, he knew, but he didn't really believe in luck at this stage of his life.
