FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Unwittingly Summoned, Part 5

For TeryxC

By Draconicon

Getting in through the water source for the city was difficult, even for his new body, but Nievuhn had been practicing with swimming for days as he circled the city. There were many waterways that filled the area, and while they were good for staying hidden, he was more than slightly afraid of what would happen if Teryx ever came down and started using the water against the people living there. Now that he knew what the dragon was capable of, he was terrified of that power ever being fully unleashed.

He rose from the waters from the lake where they entered the city center, climbing up through one of the many wells. His body was good at finding places to sink its claws, and he was surprised at how quickly he managed to climb up to the top.

It was late at night, unsurprisingly. He'd dived into the lake just past sundown, and he'd been swimming for some time. With the moon half-dark, that meant that there was less chance of being spotted.

Less, but not none.

Nievuhn poked his head out through the top of the well, looking around to see if the beggars or guards were around. The once-weasel looked left, looked right, and then slowly lowered his head back under the rim of the well.

Five guards? This late?

Something was wrong. There hadn't been that many last time, but that didn't mean that there wasn't a good reason for it. If his team had made it back to the city, then they might have spread the word of the dragon still living off on the heights. If that was the case, then there was reason for the guards to be out in force.

If not...

Well, if not, he'd find out soon enough.

Just be quiet, be careful...you should be okay...

Should, of course, being the operative word. He wasn't bright blue, so he wouldn't stand out too much in the darkness, and as long as he didn't make a ton of noise, the half-moon shouldn't give enough light to see him emerging from the well. He just needed to get to the alleys sooner than later, maybe mug someone for their clothes, and then keep hidden while he tried to find a way to get somewhere safe.

Nievuhn took one more deep breath, then jumped out of the well.

He landed with a soft thud, but soft enough that the two guards at one end of the square and the three at the other didn't look up from their conversations with each other. He kept his head down, crouching as he snuck off to one of the side-streets that led off from the square proper. No market stalls to hide him, sadly, but he made it work.

As soon as he was out of the square, he forced himself to stick to the shadows. His eyes were peeled for any of the beggars that usually called the side-streets home, but there were surprisingly few. It was as if they had been gathered up. What the hell was -

He froze as he heard the click-clack of armored figures coming, throwing himself against a stone wall as the guards walked by on the street nearby. His ears pricked up, though, as he heard what they were talking about.

"You think that the werewolves are gonna come quietly?"

"They're werewolves, those beasts never do."

"Yeah, but these ones -"

"They killed the lieutenant and ate him instead of turning him."

"...Yeah, they're not coming quietly."

"You think? That's why we've got a curfew. Damn...they weren't kidding when they called you an idiot..."

The guards walked by his hiding place with no further utterances, but at least they'd informed him what the hell was going on. A curfew keeping people off the streets, and a plague of werewolves on the city? No wonder the guards were out in force. They weren't concerned about the dragon, at all.

Well...small mercies, I guess. If they're more worried about werewolves right now, maybe being all scaly won't be as dangerous for the moment.

Yeah. Right.

Eventually, he found a beggar, one that was still sleeping and keeping himself out of the way of the guards patrolling the main streets. Nievuhn knelt down, pulled the rat's robes off, and then hit him over the head to keep him down when he stirred. The robe stunk of the scent of the street and the rat's own musk, but it was better than nothing, and it was hooded besides. It would keep him from being too obvious as he walked around.

He kept it up as he walked out of the alley, keeping his head down, making it clear that he was making his way somewhere definite rather than just wandering through the city. And he was, for that matter.

If there was a curfew going on, that meant that he needed to get off the streets until morning. That, in turn, meant that there was really only one place that he could go that would accept him on credit. Or at least, might. And if there was a problem, then the inn in question might accept a dragon scale rather than a gold coin, and if that was the case, he'd rip one off of his arm or something.

It would work.

It would work.

The inn in question, the Silver Arms, was a U-shaped building where the entrance was at the bottom of the U, stood two stories tall, and was always smoking with the results of alchemical experiments. Guildmen called it home when they were banned from their respective guildhalls, and there were tools aplenty there for those that had the money to pay for the use of them.

Nievuhn didn't have the money for the tools, but he knew that he'd have money for a room. He walked inside -

And almost immediately walked back out. Gashug the Orc and Milnus the rat were right there, having made it all the way back from the mountain without him, and...and...

And there he was, or at least the doppelganger that he had seen at the river. His weasel self, and it was naked...and it was in the middle of being fucked by a very, very drunk Gashug right there in the middle of the common room.

The disguised dragon took almost a full minute to tear his eyes off of the display in front of him, blocking the door all the while. It took the bartender to shout at him, asking whether he was coming or going, for him to be able to look away. He stumbled forward, almost losing his grip on the outside of the robe he wore, and made his way to the bar.

"Sorry. I just..."

"Yeah, they've been at that for the last hour," the mouse at the bar said, shaking his head. "The pair of them, the fuckers."

"You, um...When did they..."

"About ten minutes ago."

He shook his head, glancing behind him once more. The sheer audacity of that. He could hardly believe that anyone, even his doppelganger, would have the courage to do something like that.

Then again, he was the one that would have wanted that...

Nievuhn turned back to the mouse, nodding when he was asked if he wanted a drink. As the rodent walked away, he cupped his hands together on the bar, trying to ignore the throbbing cock between his legs, or the swelling balls just behind them. The soft slap, slap, slap sound of the debauched coupling going on behind him was all the harder to take knowing how much he wanted to be there, how much he wanted to be the one getting fucked by the orc.

Or...how much he had wanted that, at least.

The former weasel tried to think of how much of an asshole Gashug had been, how hard his party had been on him. They'd treated him as nothing more than a little magic dispenser, a healer so that they could keep going back to the fighting. They never saw him as more than that, and then...

Then they'd run off, leaving him in Teryx's clutches, leaving him to be eaten or worse. They had no way of knowing that something that bad wouldn't happen, and they'd been willing to chance it just to keep their skins.

And now, they were fucking a fake him.

They don't know...

But while he tried to calm himself down, he just felt all the more furious about it. He wanted to let loose, wanted to teach them a lesson, and the only thing that kept him sitting there was the knowledge that if he started lashing out, he'd cause more problems than he solved. He would show off what he was, people would call the guards, and then...

All that didn't stop his cock from throbbing, though.

Squelch.

"Mmmph!"

Throb.

Squelch.

"Ah!"

Throb.

The rhythm of arousal continued, and the disguised dragon had to force himself to keep staring down at the bar rather than turning around to watch the show. He could already see it in his head, though, the sight of the big orc slamming that fat green dick into a copy of his own asshole. He could smell it, for fuck's sake. He could smell that hot, sexy musk, could smell dick and balls and cum.

Fuck, had they already gotten to the end of it? Had they been doing this so much that they had already gotten through round one and he was just seeing the midpoint of round two?

That was almost worse, he realized, almost worse indeed.

Unable to help himself, he turned in his seat and looked back at the pair of them. Gashuk was already leaning back in his chair, laughing and slapping the weasel's ass. The rest of the common room were laughing, cheering on the fuck. They were probably too drunk to care about what this meant to the weasel's reputation, and Nievuhn wondered if he would ever be able to show his real face in this city again after this.

The more that he watched, the more that he realized that the doppelganger was aware he was there. Every so often, his own eyes met his, and he got a cocky grin between the slutty moans that were going on.

"Mmmph...ah, fuck...such a...big orc," his doppelganger said.

"And a slutty weasel for him," Gashuk said, laughing.

Milnus was off to the side, the rat obviously getting off to the show, groping himself and squeezing his cock as much of the rest of the audience were doing. They were all enjoying what they were getting to see.

Except for Nievuhn.

He shivered, turning back to the bar, his cock throbbing and spitting pre-cum into the inside of his robe. He knew that this was going to end badly for him, knew that he should leave, but there were guards at the door now. Nobody was going to be let in or out. He was stuck here, forced to keep listening to the show behind him.

The mouse came back with his beer, and he drained it.

"Another," he whispered.

"First one's free. The next costs."

"And a room."

"That costs, too."

"Credit?"

"Not while the curfew's on."

He gritted his teeth. He didn't like the idea of ripping a scale off, but he needed somewhere to go, now. His body was heating up, and not just with arousal. He was furious, and he needed to get out of here before he lost control.

Nievuhn reached under the robe, rooting around as if he was looking for a pocket, but instead felt along his chest for any sort of loose scale, something that might have been damaged while running around.

There was none, so he improvised.

Jamming a claw under part of a scale, he ripped it down. He managed to disguise the discomfort that came with forcibly loosening and ripping free a scale, and then held out the blue thing.

"Here."

"Is that..."

"That's enough for a room, right?"

"And then some. Hang on."

At least something was coming together properly tonight. He took a deep breath, fighting the ache that was already resting against his chest after having pulled a scale free. That was going to grow back, he hoped, but he honestly wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was pay with that, or get kicked out, or worse.

Thump.

He turned and wished he hadn't. The doppelganger had been thrown on his back, his legs in the air as he got fucked like a little bitch over a table. He turned around again, but the image was burned into his head. His own body, his weasel body, getting spread wide by that fat green cock right for everyone to see.

Fuck...fuck...

It almost felt like getting cucked, even though he knew that this wasn't how that worked. But he did know that he wanted to be where the other guy was. His hand moved down between his legs, groping his dragon dick, giving it a tight squeeze.

He's mine...I wanted him...not fair...

"Mmm, my orc," the doppelganger moaned.

"Heh, you're my bitch," Gashuk said.

"Yeah, and your cock...oh god, your cock feels so good. I'm such a lucky weasel..."

His claws were on the verge of ripping right through the bar from underneath as he strained to keep control of himself. It was all but impossible, but he was trying. Just a bit longer. Then he'd have his room key, then he could get out of here, and then he could make sure that everything was right again.

"I can't believe I waited this long," his fake said. "Gods, fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me and make me your bitch."

I would never...

Except he would have. He would have said that if it meant getting Gashuk to fuck him properly, to use him, to get over all the problems between them. He looked over his shoulders one more time.

The orc had just pulled his cock completely out of the weasel's ass, showing off how stretched and used it had become. The sheer fury that he felt at that sight, at his fantasy going to someone else, at knowing that this was possible and not just a fantasy of his own, was the last straw.

He threw his flagon at the orc as soon as it hit the table, and Gashuk stumbled off his feet, hitting the ground from the impact. No surprise. He'd hit the orc right in the side of the head. Milnus was on his feet, but the doppelganger remained on the table.

"What the fuck?" the rat hissed. "You think that you can just hit him? We just faced a dragon and lived to tell the tale."

"No, you ran away from one."

"Hmmph. You think that you can -"

"I...was...there!"

He growled, feeling the rage spreading through him like the magic had done before. It was magic, he belatedly realized, but it too late. It was running out of control, burning through him, possessing him, and he was growing.

He roared as he ripped through his robes, his arms and legs thickening up as he fell to all fours. His back cracked, his spine popping as it started to lengthen. His head swelled as it pushed forward, riding the elongating neck that was already getting more and more flexible.

As he rose up, becoming a true feral dragon, the inhabitants of the inn started screaming. Some ran for the windows and leaped out, while others ran for the guards, bowling them over and running into the streets. Few of them were able to stand against him, and fewer still wanted to.

Milnus went from looking cocky to looking terrified, and the rat backed off from him. His tail swept out, growing longer, stiffer, the spines on the tail and his back starting to grow out. He thrashed about, sweeping his tail through drink and bottles, through food and platters, and everything hit the floor with a crash.

He burst through the second story, taking the roof off the building as he continued to transform. The scale that he'd ripped off regrew, taking away the pain and protecting him again, keeping the weak spots at bay. His back itched as wings began to grow, pushing out of his spine and then into the open air, wreaking havoc as they grew.

The second floor shattered as he grew bigger and bigger, and as he flailed around, his rage breaking through everything in his path, the Silver Arms came crashing down. He stretched, popping and snapping as his body gave way to the feral form, tidal waves of emotion crashing through him and bringing him magical power such as he had never known. He had to unleash it. It had to go somewhere.

Nievuhn threw back his head and roared. A cannon of water came from his mouth as a great golden mane grew out from the back of his head, running down his neck and along the sides of his face. It continued to grow as the magical water rained through the air, and anywhere that the cannon blast hit collapsed. Building after building fell under the high-pressure water, and the air crackled with the beginnings of lightning.

And then, things got all the more heated.

As a nearby church went down from the water spray, wolves leaped from the wreckage. They howled as they emerged, bigger and stronger than the two-legged sort, and yet still moving on both all fours and on their hind legs as they pushed out of the wreckage.

Werewolves. The city's werewolf problem.

One attacked his tail, biting down on the tip, and he whipped it up into the air. The werewolf must have soared a hundred, two hundred feet above the ground before falling again, and even their healing factor was all but useless in a fall like that. He hit the cobblestones with a crunch and a shattering snap.

The rest of the pack flooded over the ground toward him, rushing him and trying to bring him down. He swung his tail, his claws, his head. Everything was a weapon on a dragon's body, even the wings, which were used to send the werewolves pouncing at him from the taller buildings still standing flying backwards from the storms they unleashed.

One by one, the pack started to fall, and soon, there were only a handful left. One rushed his face, trying to stab out his eyes with clawed fingers, and he slammed his head down, beating it into the earth. The others came from the sides, and his tail made short work of them.

The only one that stood any chance was the one that leaped onto his head, trying to hold onto his horns while using his legs to kick and stomp and claw at his neck. The mane, that long, golden mane, protected him.

He rolled, and the beast was no more, hitting the ground and falling still.

The dragon panted hard as he looked down at the wreckage that he had created. Nievuhn knew that this was wrong, and he could feel the sheer horrible guilt that came now that his anger was no longer in charge. He had been willing to rip apart the whole city, just to -

The wreckage of the inn shifted, and he saw a green hand push its way through. His teeth slid past his lips again, and his rage once more flared to the surface. The guilt disappeared as his party stepped out of the inn, panting. They didn't carry the doppelganger, either. He had to climb through on his own.

He still doesn't care. Just one more conquest, that's all it is for him.

He growled, feeling that rage still burning in his chest, wanting more than anything else to teach them a lesson. They had their armor on now, probably having dressed under the rubble, but they saw the pile of werewolves, the bodies of the unconscious, dangerous monsters spread across the wrecked part of the city.

If he could do that to the werewolves, what chance did they have?

Just as Nievuhn was about to reach a decision of what to do next, his doppelganger turned to look at him. Their eyes met -

And the fake weasel's eyes turned gold.

He stiffened, feeling the will of the great water dragon from the mountains settling on him. His lips turned up, forced into a smile that was not what he felt in the slightest. He was made to put on a happy expression, someone else moving his features around, making him shift his footing. His forelegs rested slightly further apart, and they were suddenly more relaxed. He could feel his tail laying down on the stone, and he felt less tired.

And then, he felt his mouth moving, speaking without his words.

"You fight someone that has no interest in killing you. Merely teaching you a lesson for your disrespect."

"You - you flattened the city!" Gashuk said.

"I could have done far more. Look. Are any of them dead?"

The werewolves did not stir, true, but it took Nievuhn a minute to realize that he was being made to tell the truth. The werewolves weren't dead, and he could hear the groans and growls and grunts and more of the survivors that had come through the destruction of the buildings around him.

Somehow, they had lived.

"You claimed to fight me," he was made to say. "You claimed to kill me. All that you fought was an illusion, an image that had no way of hurting you, and every way for you to hurt it. Then, I came to claim one of you that had stolen more than was their due...and you left them. Cowards that you were, you left them to be used, taken, kept for my pleasure."

"He escaped!" the orc said.

"As if that makes it better."

The doppelganger hadn't moved, but Nievuhn could feel that power pushing through him, a stiff stare that kept him from taking control of the body back. The feral dragon that he had become laid down on the ground, carefully avoiding sitting on any bodies.

"I come here with an offer of peace and power. Of healing and recovery. Observe."

With a wave of his forepaw, the waters of the air and sky began to come together. The crackling of the storm turned into the pitter-patter of rain, and it all came together in a great sphere of water that hovered over his claws.

Then, he flicked it out, and it flew apart in a hundred different tendrils. The people screamed, running for cover, but it was unnecessary.

The first splashes of water hit the werewolves, and as they were washed by the magic of the water dragon, their fur came clean. Their injuries were healed, and so was the plague that had struck them. They lost their bestial appearance, becoming their former species once more. Sometimes they were naked, of course, and rather exposed, but they were still better than they had been.

He waved his forepaw again, and the other tendrils flew through the crowd, finding those that had been injured, those that had been hurt by the destruction that had just happened. The mouse bartender had a broken arm, hunched over and hugging it, but as the water played over him, the magic sunk in, removing the pain, and then removing the injury.

Others, too, were likewise healed, made better with the power that the water dragon summoned. He could feel it running through him, draining his energy as he did something that only Teryx would have known how to do.

When it was done, inside, he was panting, but on the outside, he looked cool and collected. The various members of the city that had been hurt were no longer staring at him in fear, but at the adventurers with rage.

Nievuhn felt no small satisfaction at that.

Yet, he had more of a script to say, and his mouth kept moving.

"Tomorrow, my Champion will come to you. He will come to the gate, and he will be allowed in to speak. I will be watching, and if he is mistreated, then I will come and collect him. I am averse to bloodshed, but I do not forbid it of myself. Do not make me step over that line. You will not like what happens if I do."

The two-toned blue feral rose up again, stretching his wings until they popped in their joints. He was made to turn, looking towards the wall, as he fanned his wings out again.

"Tomorrow, be ready. If you are good, if you behave correctly, then you might gain the greatest bargain that your city has ever seen."

And with that, he was forced to take flight.

The feeling of wings lifting him from the earth was beyond anything that he had ever felt in the past. Though he had been carried away by Teryx before, that had been being carried. This was doing the flying himself, and it was incredibly different.

As the earth fell away from him, exhaustion clung to him like a stubborn passenger, and there was little that he could do to fight it. His body was made to keep moving on its own, flying in a different direction, taking him away from the city. Soon, even the shouting that had been so loud faded away, leaving only the whistling of the wind.

The clouds above him sparked with lightning, and he knew that it could still be summoned as a storm if Teryx wanted, wherever the dragon might have been. This body could call forth lightning as well as rain, and he knew better than to believe that it would be peaceful if the city turned against the massive dragon. They would die, and horribly, if Teryx turned his wrath against them.

But that was for tomorrow. For tonight...

Nievuhn sagged against the commands that forced him to keep flying. It was exhaustion, yes, but also a total lack of hope. He had been so close to being free, had even thought that it might be possible to fix himself in a day or two. And now, he was being dragged right back to where he started.

Should have known that the doppelganger was one of his tricks, he thought. He knew this whole time, and he just did this to make sure that he got something out of it.

His body wobbled, barely able to keep up with the command to keep flying. The transformation, the flight from the mountain, the swimming, the fucking, the fighting. Everything from the last few days came crashing down on him, and he was no longer able to keep going.

His wings snapped outwards, turning from a flight to a glide. Nievuhn started to fall, and as he did, the transformation that he had gone through began reversing itself. He shrank, collapsing in on himself, and the great muscles that had ripped down buildings and torn up the ground began fading, disappearing from his frame. His tail pulled in, his spine popped and cracked as it was forced to contract again...

And one by one, his scales started to fall.

Nievuhn didn't even realize it was happening, at first. He felt a chill, yes, but no more than that. Then it started getting worse, and worse, and when he looked down at himself, he saw his fur once more.

He was slowly becoming a weasel again.

The wings were dragging in tighter and tighter, too, pressing against his back until they were all but gone. He was flying towards a stand of trees, too, something that would barely be enough to cushion his fall.

It certainly didn't take away the pain of falling.

"Oof! Ah! OW!"

The weasel rebounded off of one branch after another as he went down through the trees, each impact stopping his fall before sending him into another one. He hit at least seven on the way down, and his lungs were well-acquainted with the pain of being abruptly emptied by the time he hit the ground.

Why...why now?

"Because you don't need it anymore."

"...Oh. Great. You."

"Yes. Heh. Me."

Nievuhn rolled over slowly, not quite able to drag himself upright. Now that he was facing the right direction, he saw the real Teryx, the great blue dragon looming over him and resting his chin on one large forepaw.

"You played your part well, little Champion."

"You knew I escaped."

"I never lost sight of where you were."

"...It was pointless. The whole time, it was pointless."

"Yes, indeed."

"Why? Why do this to me?"

"Because you needed to learn where you belonged. Because you thought that you could outsmart, outrun, or outdo me. And you needed to learn how wrong you were."

The weasel hugged himself, shaking his head as he looked down at the ground again. So much for ever having freedom again. He was...he was doomed to this fate.

The feral dragon slowly shrank down, becoming a copy of what Nievuhn had been during his flight from the dragon's den to the city, and he felt strong arms lifting him up. He was seated against a tree, using it to keep himself from falling down again. He groaned under his breath, feeling stiff, sore, and more than a little bruised from the fall.

Teryx shook his head.

"You still hate this that much?"

"I didn't want to be your Champion. I'm not..."

"You were stronger."

"..."

"And faster."

"..."

"And better with magic."

"What's your point?"

"Nothing comes free, and my price is lower than anyone else that would give you this. Why are you fighting it?"

Nievuhn wanted to say that it wasn't worth it, but now that he was back in his old body, he wasn't so sure. It felt...weak, weak and fragile compared to what he had been riding in for the last few days. He knew that if he tried to run, he'd collapse in seconds, and that was if he could even get on his feet again.

The old body had been good. The only downside had been a lack of freedom, and a great lack, at that. The fear of the city had been burned out of him with that last fight, and he didn't know where he stood.

Looking up at the dragon, he sighed.

"What are my choices?"

"Finally willing to listen?"

"...Yes."

"Then let's talk."

The End

Summary: Nievuhn makes it into the city, but there's a little problem with the sort of people that he finds...

Tags: M/M, orc, weasel, dragon, rat, various species, werewolves, fantasy, possession, control, body control, anal, erection, humiliation, anger, transformation, feral dragon, gaping, size difference, healing, magic,