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Pathfinding: An Adult Choose Your Own Adventure

Twenty-Fourth Entry

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Vote Tallies

A - 12

B - 10 (the Warlord's evil breeding projects, more Warlord background, breeding contests)

C - 7 (gryphon/unicorn)

D - 6

E - 6 (gryphon/unicorn)

F - 1 (Goro/Kaia, Skaeth/Ryg, Urta/Shara and Cassidy/Dinah, Lysha's introductions)

Additional Votes:

Let Longhorn join the party - 2

Author Notes

All results of pregnancy are randomly determined. To reiterate the rules from a prior post: 44% likely to be male, 46% (45-90) likely to be female, and 10% (91-100) likely to be a hermaphrodite. Same chances for the offspring taking mostly after the father, the mother, or a combination of the two.

Pathfinding Twenty-Fourth Entry

Two weeks was a long, long time to be away from the father of your child. It was especially hard when Rufus was the father, and he was heading right into the middle of danger. It was hardest of all when your pregnancy was hastened, so that, before Rufus even had a chance to make it back, your water broke, and you were ready to pop.

Marlene gripped the large paw of Windtooth tightly, doing her best to breathe like the midwife told her. All around her were strong, furry bodies, the wolfen of the Blue Feather tribe, all of them concerned for her, and for her friends. One of the shamans of the tribe, this one a male, was gently caressing the blonde elfgirl's domed belly, his fingertips drawing lines of blue and green paint across the tight-stretched skin. And the more the shaman worked, the less the pain became.

Not far off, Marlene heard Deriny cry out loudly as she was gently rolled onto her front on the birthing platforms the tribe had brought out for this momentous occasion. The platforms were made to let gravity do its fair share of the work of giving birth, without simply letting either the mother or the baby fall. Just earlier that day, Deriny had eagerly allowed four young, virile wolfen males to give her unborn baby a bath in their cum, as she, like all the girls, had experienced the most intense sensations of near-constant arousal while the enhanced pace of pregnancy was in effect, and this coupled with such close quarters among a people with so few taboos against nudity or the giving and receiving of sexual pleasure soon broke the redhead's former resistance to mingling with the wolfen. Those same four wolfen were standing around her then, their strong hands stroking and caressing Deriny's smooth skin, holding her firmly in place on the breeding bench as she cried out again, as before, in the pleasure of giving birth.

"It's so good," moaned Morgan on Marlene's other side, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the breeding platform, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasured delirium. "Nobody ever said it would feel so good."

Unlike Deriny, who had become quite an eager slut after her deepseated moral qualms were finally quashed, Morgan had been more conservative in her choices of partners. In fact, Morgan had chosen one of the older, decorated male braves as her permanent mate, and Morgan's new mate didn't seem to mind at all that her first child would be from another male. Similarly, Morgan didn't seem to mind sharing her mate, and Marlene remembered with a hot flash of remembered pleasure how the handsome male presently holding Morgan's hand had made both hers and Morgan's and Deriny's bottoms bounce in a furious foursome.

Across from Marlene, Adel shuddered with a sweet moan of her own, while next to the young groundling, little Rael whimpered, kicking her legs a bit as two she-wolfen shamans carefully fit her legs into the stirrups of the birthing platform. Adel reached out as she heard the younger female whimper, taking her hand, whispering soft words of comfort in Rael's ear, only some of which Marlene's heightened elven senses could pick up, telling Rael how her father would be so proud of her, and how she was being so brave.

The first of the girls to suddenly cry out in a rush of sensation was Regina, on Adel's left. The cry was very nearly orgasmic, for the gentle nature magic the shamans had woven into each of the pregnant girls was made to stifle all pain, and to encourage pleasure in its place. Not only this, but these spells were specially made to soothe the bodies of the pregnant girls, so that they could give birth without the anxiety that usually came at such a vulnerable time. After all, when it came to the great killers of the two sexes, males died in war, while females died in childbirth. With such potent magic, so carefully woven, the risk of death was minimized, almost negated entirely. And now Regina's baby, sired by the big, quiet gnoll, Urtan, was on its way, and the dark-haired girl's legs and arms were straining, her whole body bathed in sweat, as she orgasmed, powerfully, screaming at the top of her lungs as more endorphins than any male could possibly imagine flooded her body.

Leta was next. The lithe brown-haired brawler had a toned, fit body, well-suited to all sorts of physical activity, and that included her inner muscles as well. It made good sense that she would be able to handle producing her child faster, sooner, and with less trouble, even with the magic of the wolfen shamans in place. Leta's own orgasms were quiet, almost silent, marked only by especially loud breathing as her cheeks grew heavily flushed.

Marlene thought she heard Morgan crying out next to her, thought she got the impression of the perky little blonde gunslinger's legs kicking out in the throes of passion, but by that point she was gripping Windtooth's paw with both of her hands, her own body starting to convulse powerfully.

"Tell Carver," Marlene gasped out, trying her best to focus on other things, to keep her mind centered on business rather than pleasure, for somehow the pleasure was more intense than any pain, "tell him the elves are willing to make a deal for territory, for the duration of his lifespan, so long as he...he...heeeEEEEE!"

Marlene's head jerked back as she lay face-down on the birthing platform, her body convulsing, even as she felt the Blue Feather alpha's tongue caressing her back in a loving lick. Her thighs clenched together, held apart only by the sturdy wood of the frame, and her eyes stared unseeingly as powerful contractions inside her belly made her whole world reel, spots of red and black flashing before her eyes. The baby was coming, and Marlene couldn't even tell if it was her own cries she was hearing, or those of her friends.

In point of fact, Carver, chief of the bearfolk of the North, had deigned to leave his comfortable longhouse in the far forests, and come to meet with the Blue Feather tribe. Messenger crows had been sent, and the response given, prompting Marlene to send out her own magically-enhanced messengers, care of the few elven magical tricks she knew, sending sparrows on their way to the nearest elven outpost of which she was aware, to ascertain their willingness to assist in the effort against the Warlord. In that short span of time, quite suddenly, where once there had only been the Blue Feather ready to stand against the hordes of the Warlord's forces, now there were three potential allies coming together to meet at that place, each faction likely to arrive in two or three days from that time. It seemed that the giants and the human raiders and the goblins and orcs leaving their hills and the gnolls leaving their scrubby forests, and even the trolls descending from the hills and out of the tunnels of the earth were enough to alarm everyone, making them all far more willing to come to terms when faced with such a potentially lethal common foe.

Before the contractions had started in earnest, such matters of the state of the North had been foremost in Marlene's mind. Now, as she lay on her back, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat from exertion and multiple orgasms, all that mattered was the tiny grey-furred bundle Windtooth pressed gently into her arms, letting the small newborn wolfen pup take its first meal after the ordeal of birth as it pressed its tiny mouth to Marlene's milk-swollen breast. The elfgirl couldn't help but smile as she saw how much like Rufus her baby was, except that he had hair, blonde hair, like her own, peeking out from the drying fur on his head.

A look around confirmed the parentage of each of the other children brought into the world on that day. Adel's baby was a female, with fur as bright red as her hair. Regina, meanwhile, had given birth to a very dark-furred hyena cub, obviously very much like his father, Urtan. Leta and Deriny's babies were both male, and both of them, at first glance, looked like perfectly smooth human babies. This initial impression, however, was quickly dispelled by the ears and tails, rabbit and wolf, respectively, that each baby sported on their perfectly smooth skins, skin that would likely never see any body hair, as was common among more humanlike half-breeds. Morgan, for her part, cradled a little she-wolfen with fur the same bright yellow as Morgan's own hair. Finally, Rael's baby was a patchy-furred little cutie, her fur splotched unevenly in both yellow and white.

As Marlene took stock of the newcomers into the world, her eyes met Adel's, and both new mothers shared a tired smile from shared ordeal and shared friendship. However prejudiced Marlene might have been before, her life had changed now, as had her outlook. Giving Windtooth's paw a final squeeze, Marlene allowed herself to slowly drift off to sleep, her new baby suckling contentedly on her breast. The children, magically enhanced, would develop quickly, reaching puberty in weeks rather than years, but though Marlene knew this, she intended to do her best to savor the time she would have with her youngster while she could enjoy it.

*

"Careful, you idiot."

The words would have sounded petulant, or laced with an undercurrent of malice from anyone else. From the Warlord, however, the words were gentle and sweet, an affectionate reminder to return to more effective behavior. The words in this case were directed toward one of the robed Parturitrices, the great spellcasters who watched over the Spawnling and its brood mares, as the hooded being (it was common practice for a Parturitrix to have his or her sex magically removed, rendering them into smooth androgynies) focused enegeries on a squirming and heavily swollen elven girl, one of the wood elves more common in those parts, channeling the pain of giving birth into pleasure instead, while at the same time keeping the Spawnling's offspring from tearing the poor little elfling apart. Wood elves were so fragile, after all; if only more dwarves and gnomes lived in these parts...

Of any creature on the face of the planet of Therafim, the Warlord would call the Spawnling her only true friend. It wasn't especially attractive in appearance, being a fleshy mass of muscles and multiple pulsating tentacles, every one usually leaking its copious and potent fluids as it waited for the next opportunity to mate, but it and the Warlord had an understanding of sorts, reached long ago, when they'd first met.

Growing up among common humans, the product of some sharing of the sheets with a dragon by one of her ancestors, the Warlord had been looked upon as some sort of goddess from her earliest days. This starting point had only been exacerbated by the Warlord's hermaphroditic nature, which marked her as something set apart, having all the potential of both males and females, while not truly being of either of these camps. These notions of godhood, however, had been shattered by the raids from the Northmen. These raiders had no pity for the Warlord's people, nor any reverence for her, and they sacked her small temple, taking her as spoils of conquest. It had been a shock to the young Warlord, back when she'd had a proper name, being torn down from her throne and treated like a common whore by a camp of lusty barbarians.

Once she recovered sufficiently from the shock, the Warlord had promptly killed three of her captors while the others slept off their night of drinking and feasting and wenching, then carefully slew as many of them as she could before the rest woke up. They chased her, of course, and there were far too many of them for her to fight, even with her immense strength and magical abilities, untried until that day. So she ran, fleeing into the caves beneath the earth. There, the Warlord first met the Spawnling, when it saved her from the fools that had dared to chase her into its realm. The Spawnling was small at that time, weak, recently defeated in one of its own power plays in the lightless realms of the Underdark, and still quite young as well, a prodigy among its strange and rare kind in its intelligence and skill. Still, it had nearly been enslaved by dark elves, who would brook no free-willed competition like a Spawnling in their territory, and had been forced to flee or serve them forever. After all, a Spawnling could produce any number of strange and dangerous creatures, all of them utterly loyal to their parent, so long as it had ready wombs to fill from among the other races of the world, and such a creature, rare and powerful as it was, was considered a danger to all. All, that is, except the Warlord, who feared nothing, knowing herself to possess divine right, and felt no need to hoard power like her draconic kin hoarded wealth - there was always plenty of it to go around, after all. So it was that the Spawnling and the Warlord met, both of them at their weakest points, and forged an alliance in the dark places of Therafim, where light had never shone.

"Now we both are gods," said the Warlord, reaching out to tenderly caress one of the quivering, pulsing tentacles of her lover and co-ruler of the armies, for though most of the Warlord's troops would never guess it, she counseled extensively with her squamous, viscid partner, its mind easily as brilliant as her own. "And soon we will have what we deserve."

The Spawnling pulsed in eagerness, and the Warlord smiled toothily, motioning to a nearby Parturitrix to bring a few more slaves to sate the nearly endless lusts of the beast from below. The Warlord understood its need well: after all, there was little quite as heady as the sensation of victory, except perhaps anticipation of its coming, and the spoils it would bring, after a hard-won fight.

*

"You're disgusting," grumped the hippogriff girl, Wisselfleur, as she did her best to pointedly avoid looking at Rufus' naked body. "Why don't you put some pants on?"

"I never wear pants," Rufus answered with a shrug, grinning shamelessly as he leaned back on his hands, his plantigrade legs stretched out before him, clawed toes pointed at the fire. "Don't sweat it, though - my prick'll get soft in a couple minutes, once it figures out there's nowhere else for it to get buried."

Naturally, the reason for Rufus' nudity, as well as the moist-yet-semi-erect nature of his penis, was because of Lysha. The black girl lay on her side not too far off, only partially covered by a blanket, her well-stretched, freshly-deflowered cunny still leaking white goo from where Rufus and Urtan had claimed her only minutes before, bringing her pleasure until she had passed into unconsciousness, just as they had the last two nights. The two males in question were now seated around the fire, and had just been joined by the slaves they'd freed. Urtan, at least, had the decency to tug another blanket over his exposed manhood when the obviously noble-born hippogriff and unicorn girls had seated themselves around the fire, followed not long afterward by the shapely elephant girl, but Rufus had no such politeness.

Glancing over to the side, Rufus smiled, his tail giving two pleased wags, as he saw the three nerdy teens talking with Crystal and Ryg; they were obviously very interested in the crystalline construct, and were having an animated conversation with the she-wolfen, as the one who knew the workings of Crystal best, since Ryg had reanimated her. Flit was the foxboy, Deo the blue bunny, and Midge the freckled, redheaded gnome, and apparently all three of them were supposed to be some sort of engineers, though that was given away by the goggles and overalls they all wore. While they were certainly cute enough, and Rufus had to admit he had certain designs on their cute little bottoms, Praxis hadn't taken them prisoner because of their looks. Rather, he had taken them as specialists, slaves with strange knowledge of rare technology that he'd intended to sell to the Warlord for a premium price, exceeding the worth of all of the other slaves in his collection...well, except for Imogen, of course. Imogen, the unicorn seated daintily next to Wisselfleur, was staring with a flushed face and shocked expression at Rufus' bared penis, her mouth gaping open as its presence stole words from her. Bipedal unicorns were an almost impossible rarity, their beauty akin to those of the legendary nymphs. Rufus had to admit, looking Imogen over with shameless appraisal as she wore a flowing white gown, her body looked as smooth and white as porcelain, and as perfect besides. If he wasn't so afraid of breaking her, she looked so petite and delicate, he might have tried to talk her into bed with him.

It was Imogen's expression, though, that finally convinced Rufus to grab his loincloth and tie it into place, which promptly made both girls relax in his presence. Rough around the edges though Rufus often was, he still felt bad about causing distress to a girl as sweet and demure as the unicorn filly obviously was.

"We were talking things over," Wisselfleur then picked up, apparently as the spokesperson for the trio, the ice elven twins over with Kaia and Spark at that moment, as they were every night, "and we've been thinking. Me'n Imy here were just out for some adventure when that nasty panthercat picked us up. Just exploring some old ruins near our home, is all, nothing too major. How were we to know he was camped out there?"

"It all happened so fast," said Imogen softly, looking down shyly, as though afraid to offend simply by speaking. "Our families must be so worried about us right now."

"Nah, they'll be fine," Wisselfleur immediately waved off the concern of her friend, who was obviously a devoted daughter, while the slender and muscular hippogriff filly was something of a daredevil. "It's not like we haven't vanished for longer than this without causing any problems." She smirked at Rufus, the expression curling the edges of her beak. "What can I say? Hippogriff parents aren't much for heavy-handed parenting. I wouldn't have it any other way. Imogen's parents were almost stifling, they kept her on such a tight rein. She's lucky to have a friend like me to help her break free every so often."

"Your proposal," said the demure elephant girl, Padmini by name, gently reeling Wisselfleur back on track.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, what I was getting at, mister Rufus, is me'n Imogen 'n Padmini here, we wanna be a part of your group. You're gonna get into more awesome adventures than I've even heard about in stories, and there's no way I'm gonna miss out on a chance like this."

"I owe it to you," Padmini added, lifting her trunk in gratitude to Rufus. "Besides, these two might be able to make it home, and the ice elven girls must certainly leave as soon as they can to gain the support of their people for your fight against the Warlord, but my home is far across the sea, in Bazram. Since I cannot return there easily, I might as well make myself useful while I am here." She smiled gently. "I think you will find that I have talents that might be of use to you and your herd."

"Heh," chuckled Rufus, lying back on the ground, his body finally deciding that it was time to start shutting down for some sleep. "Big decisions. Look, we're gonna get back to the Blue Feather tribe tomorrow, probably around early evening. Once we get everything sorted out over there, then I'll make decisions. Right now, it's late, I'm tired, and I need some time to think over your offers anyway." He opened an eye, giving the three girls a gentler smile than before. "I'll take your offer seriously, though, so don't worry about it. And don't bother me about it, either - I'll decide when I'm good and ready."

Path Choices

Who shall we take with us on the next leg of our adventure? The following options are available:

* Urta and the gnolls - These five come as a set.

* Urtan - A powerful frontline fighter with shield and spear, almost as good a tracker as Rufus, and a decent archer; completely loyal to Rufus, and will do anything he asks.

* Cassidy - Very good at going unseen and unnoticed for long periods; a deadly sniper.

* Spark - An excellent bard with a fine singing voice; also has a talent for enchantment magic and illusions.

* Marlene - Top-notch archer with her crossbow; skilled as a diplomat and fairly decent as a strategist; has ties to both elves and humans, and can call on allies from both races.

* Adel - Excellent tactician and strategist, fairly stealthy, a good swordswoman with medium armor, and able to use basic divination magic.

* Ryg - A skilled earth shaman, able to call on powers over the body and over natural earth and stone, and sometimes animals, as well as using low- to mid-level divination magic.

* Rael - We promised to take her; not too skilled right now outside of basic hunting and fighting abilities, but a fast learner; completely devoted to her daddy, Rufus.

* Dinah - Talented catgirl rogue.

* Hanaro - A well-trained and loyal-unto-death samurai.

* Lysha - A skilled ranger; a bit bigoted still, but starting to become more open-minded.

* Padmini - The elephant girl, an excellent dancer, astonishingly strong despite her soft looks, and a skilled unarmed martial artist. Has immense talent as a flesh mage, having trained in manipulating the body in secret monasteries, until she is able to use her powers to both heal and harm. Has a vow to refrain from lethal actions, but may use her powers and skills for violence beyond this restriction, and does not force her vow on others.

* Wisselfleur and Imogen - the hippogriff and unicorn girls, one a fast flying scout with incredible farsighted vision, while the other has powerful natural healing ability and a naturally calming presence on those around her. Imogen can also pierce almost anything with her nearly indestructible horn, and has a body so flawless, it causes physical pain to look at her for too long while she is naked (she is usually too embarrassed to use this offensively). These two are inseparable.

* The steampunk trio - Flit, Deo, and Midge, these three are a set; they are all skilled machinists and engineers, prodigies and geniuses despite their youth.

* Skaeth - Massive and muscular older minotaur warrior; a true professional who stays bought when hired, which Rufus has done.

* Goro - Dutiful but slightly socially-awkward pandaman; has a good heart, and is quite skilled in a fight as a heavy armor user.

* Shara - Talented in flesh magic, especially healing, and has basic knowledge of force magic as well.

* Crystal - Utterly loyal crystalline construct with perfect memory; not very skilled in anything yet, including emotions, but is learning; given enough time, she will become fully-functional in everything she is taught or learns through observation, perhaps becoming better than the ones who teach her, since she doesn't make mistakes.

Everyone not selected or not listed will remain with the Blue Feather tribe, except for the Sisters of Glory. The Sisters will return to their order to report on current events instead.

Next, of the remaining former slavers, who shall be (1) given to Carver (if any), and (2) be transformed into females?

* Kyte

* Lisk

* Lightfoot

* Longhorn