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Pathfinding: An Adult Choose Your Own Adventure

Thirty-third Entry

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Vote Tallies

A - 16

B - 2

C - 1

D - 2

Additional Votes:

* Skaeth is up to something - 4 * Shara and Padmini learning flesh magic and non-lethal skills (sex quite likely) - 9

* Kyte's submission, and more Kyte screentime - 18

* Campfire tale for Urta and/or Urtan - 6

* Rufus/Urtan scene, where they finally go at it - 8

* Appearance of Jonna the she-minotaur - 13

* Urta/Rael/Adel/Rufus scene; Family dynamics in action - 4

Vote Options in Progress:

* Wisselfleur and Imogen seduced by Rufus (Adel included) - 11

* Training Crystal (making her more combat-ready) - 10

* Steampunk Trio's fate

Author Notes

Next time I'll finish the scene with Phan and Zane. Then I'll go into the present situation of the Steampunk Trio and their dealings with...various persons.

Pathfinding Thirty-third Entry

As soon as darkness started to fall over the forest, great lights were hung and lit, and a wide area sectioned off for the night's festivities. The wood elves gathered around the great wooden tables hauled out by wolfen and bearfolk, tittering among themselves in anticipation. Of course, it was well-known that beastfolk were a sensual people, lusty and driven by powerful passions, and some of the lithe, willowy wood elves had strayed away from the great feast and celebration intended for that night, even knowing that it was to welcome them and the bearfolk fully into the alliance, because of their fear of what such passion might bring. There were even a few of the more stolid bearfolk who remained in their tents this night, and the line around the area of celebration was made most clear so as to provide safety to those who had chosen not to attend. Most, however, from both ally camps were there in attendance, and soon everyone was finding seats at the table with little regard for whom they were sharing the space on either side.

Seated side-by-side at the head of the table, Carver laughed loudly at a joke told be Windtooth, the bearfolk leader watching with approval as his people mingled with those of the elves and wolfen, some even taking part in assisting the servers, a most daring position indeed. It had been quietly spread around that there would be certain dress standards for servers that would exceed those of others at the celebration, and also that those same servers wouldn't have the same protections that others would have, but it wasn't until now, as he saw a comely, brindle-furred sow tending the ale casks with her full, buoyant breasts bared, wearing only a skimpy soft leather loincloth, that he realized the full extent of what this meant. Watching as two wolfen and a wood elven male spent more time around the board where the ale was stowed than was strictly necessary, Carver was actually distracted with thoughts of anger as the two wolfen goaded their smooth-skinned comrade until, finally, he dared to reach out and gently caress the bared half-globe of the she-bear's firmly-muscled buttocks. How dare anyone touch one of his subjects?! They were beholden to him, and under his protection, and he would never allow their molestation while he drew breath! The anger, however, faded rapidly as he saw the silly sow just giggle at the touch, and give the elfboy a wink before patting his cheek and stepping away to better attend to her duties.

Of course, the she-bear wasn't the only server. There were a great many of the wolfen, male as well as female, who'd volunteered for the job, limiting their clothing to a loincloth that covered in the front only. Even Jael, Windtooth's gold-furred mate, carried herself with pride, her tail held high, her upthrust breasts bobbing as she bent over the long table near a small band of warrior bearfolk, the ursine males drooling unashamedly over the she-alpha's gorgeous near-nudity. Not far away from her, Carver's own new slaves, the tall, slender-hipped male minotaur Longhorn, and the recently-made females Longstrider and Lisk tended tables for a sizable pocket of wood elven women along with several wolfen males and an especially scantily-clad bearman. To see the females of such an ancient and highly-respected race giggle and grope and squeeze their servers until they were almost unable to complete their duties at all was enough to make even one like Carver blush.

Also serving were some of the smooth-skinned races. Four human girls that Carver didn't know very well, but who had apparently joined the war effort with full eagerness, and had even given birth to nonhuman babies in the process, were there, serving near the head of the table, and the hulking grizzly male couldn't help but admire the blush on their cute faces and apple-pert bottoms as they made their ways around, wearing only aprons tied around their waists and not a stitch more. They were mostly serving the wolfen and bearfolk officers, though, which seemed to show their shyness, for the officers, males as well as females, did seem to treat the girls with more gentleness than they might have gotten among the bear-berserkers or packwolfen, letting only a few squeezes and one or two lingering caresses to smooth, pink skin slip through. The elven servers, those few who had volunteered for that duty, were to be found at that end of the long tables as well, the males as well as the females dressed in twisted boughs of still-green leaves as their only protection of modesty. Even from where he was sitting, it was quite obvious to Carver that the elves were likely more excited by this shamelessness than even the other servers, for most of the males had to cover themselves almost constantly with their trays to hide embarrassing erections, while the females regularly kept their legs squeezed tightly together in a vain effort to conceal the moisture running slickly down their inner thighs.

As the evening progressed, all ate their fill, and perhaps drank a little more than was strictly wise, and everyone, server and guest alike, were soon relaxed and mellow with a sense of shared cheer and goodwill. The guests had mingled quite extensively over the course of the night, so that now it was almost impossible to tell where the lines of race and rank were located, as everyone had settled into amiable comradeship, and the molestation of the servers became more frequent, but also more welcomed, though never quite beyond the point of public decency (the pretty sow tending bar, for example, had smashed an empty wooden mug over the skull of one of her wolfen admirers after he'd tried to suckle beer from her breasts, but this was hardly considered unusual, and no hard feelings were held from either party), and soon drinking songs broke out in many places, ones known by all the races, while one or two especially talented (or especially sloshed) soloists performed for their impromptu audiences. It was at this time that Windtooth rose to his feet, banging the table for attention and silence, both of which he got.

"Bring in the main course," called the broad-shouldered, grizzle-furred alpha, motioning with one large paw. Carver's eyebrows raised, for he'd thought the feasting part of the celebration had peaked out some time ago, and he turned his head, as did most others, to watch as the blonde-haired Marlene and blue-haired Kaia, both wearing filmy silk loincloths that matched their eyes and left almost nothing to the imagination, carried out a fairly large, covered silver serving tray. Blinking in astonishment, Carver looked down at the dish as the two elfgirls set it halfway between him and Windtooth, then looked at the wolfen Alpha with the questions obvious in his eyes.

"Lift the cover and see for yourself," said the Alpha with a wink, patting his knee to encourage Marlene to hurry around the table and seat herself on his thigh.

His curiosity piqued, Carver hesitated for only a moment, feeling the eyes of several of his own warriors upon him, and not daring to show weakness or lack of courage, especially not among those who were supposed to be friends, and so far had shown themselves to be as true as their word. Anything else would have been a rejection of offered hospitality, and among his people that would have been an unforgivable insult to his host. Then, reaching forward, he seized the large silver cover, and lifted it from the dish.

There, crouched on all-fours on the dish in the classic "suckling pig" position, heads down, smooth, heart-shaped bottoms uplifted (and fully visible to everyone else at the feast), their completely naked bodies glistening with a sweet-smelling oil, were two adorable teenaged girls, one with short red hair with a pageboy cut and round, horn-rimmed glasses, the other with dark hair done up in buns on the sides of her head (their white cloth covers her only clothing), and obvious epicanthic folds. They both looked up at the bearfolk leader with wide eyes, frozen in place for a long moment.

"Well," remarked Carver, blinking at the revealed and very tasty-looking contents of the dish, "you wolfen certainly do know how to make a main course memorable."

*

"Still checking for traps, dear?" Shara teased, looking over Cassidy's shoulder. The tan-furred bunny gave the foxtaur a sour look as he glanced up from his work on the door leading up the stairs of Belthin's tower. He'd spent very little time on the lock itself, actually, and had only just recently begun picking it. Mostly, for the last ten minutes, he'd been searching for traps, making sure nothing was going to go off in their faces, and had actually disconnected two so far. "Sorry, I couldn't really tell, the way you were babying that silly lock."

Cassidy signed, glancing around at the others, most of whom had indeed settled in and gotten as comfortable as they could in the well-appointed strategy room. Rufus, determined as he was, was still nearby, ready to yank Cassidy out of the way of some trap the lapida might have overlooked, and Urtan stuck next to his alpha no matter what. Lesage also hovered nearby, happy to offer any verbal advice she could at a moment's notice, sometimes whether it was asked-for or not. From where he was, Cassidy could just make out where Adel was sitting next to the fireplace, talking in hushed tones with Padmini, Wisselfleur, and Imogen, with Kyte listening not far off, with Ryg, Hanaro, and Lysha all chiming in on occasion. The green-scaled dragoness looked miserable about the subject matter, whatever it might be, while the cheeks of the three girls were quite flushed, and both the hippogriff and unicorn fillies couldn't completely stifle embarrassed giggles from time to time. He couldn't make out where Skaeth and the other two gnolls were, and for some reason, that bothered Cassidy more than he liked to consider.

"You've got a better option?" he asked finally, gently disengaging his tools from the job at hand (and admittedly, the array of his set of tools was far less than those in his profession who lived in more urban areas).

"Since you asked so nicely," answered the vixen with a grin, before, with a theatrical flourish, she drew out a long, springy willow wand from out of her generous bust. Cassidy's eyes widened as he saw this.

"Neat trick," he admitted. "What else do you have in there?"

"You can find out later, sweetie," giggled the saucy vixentaur, before she swung the wand through the air twice, snapping it loudly. "Just to get the kinks out," she explained, winking at her audience of three, before she turned and extended the tip of the wand toward the lock...and then touched it ever-so-lightly. With a soft snap of static electricity, the inner workings of the lock instantly disengaged, clicking and clacking audibly, before the door promptly popped open. Lesage, Rufus, and Urtan actually rewarded Shara's performance with light applause, to which she bowed, and even Cassidy, still a little disgruntled at being shown up, joined in after a moment.

"Okay, people," said Rufus as he drew his magical sword and bearded handaxe, "get ready. We've got no real way of knowing what's up there until we see it for ourselves. Maybe we'll be fine, maybe not, but you all have to be ready for everything, got it?" He looked around for a general confirming nod, then nodded back, turning to face the stairs. "Here we go."

It felt good to be back in motion again, Rufus had to admit. All these intellectual puzzles and challenges to his will, they had their place, he supposed, but it was nothing like a good, honest brawl! As he rushed up the stairs, he felt ready to take on anything he might meet at the top, baring his white teeth in his eagerness for whatever might wait. A floor with a library and one that was obviously intended for preparing and then delivering speeches out of a balcony shot by with the wolfen giving them hardly any heed, for they were obviously not where the "good stuff" was hidden anyway. The second-to-last level of the tower was a laboratory, but it was similarly ignored, for nothing seemed to be going on there right now anyway, all arcane studies having been set aside for plans of conquest. Then, finally reaching the top, Rufus gave a short snarl of eagerness, and lunged forward, his foot catching the door with a powerful kick. Whatever Belthin's twisted mind might have in store for him here, he could handle it!

"AAAIIIIIIEEEE!!!" screamed two high-pitched voices, before their owners ducked to the far side of the vast, sumptuously-appointed bed chamber, hiding behind the bed itself. Rufus glanced over the edge of the bed at the smooth-skinned, cowering figures, and blinked.

Huh. All right, maybe that wasn't on the list of things he'd been expecting. Apparently, all Belthin kept up here at the top of her tower were her two pleasure slaves, a pair of pubescent elven boys who could have been twins, except that one of the slender males had alabaster skin, golden hair, and blue eyes, while the other had skin the color of polished obsidian, silver-white hair, and deep violet eyes.

"Wh-what do you want?" asked the dark-elven boy, looking up at Rufus as he towered over the pair, before glancing at the others. "We're not warriors or apprentices or anything; just our mistress' slaves." He indicated the slender collars around each boy's neck, silver for the drow boy, gold for the high elf.

"Are you here to free us?" asked the high elven boy hopefully, though with more than a little trepidation, as though expecting that asking such a question might mean an even more terrible fate ahead. "Our mistress is busy in the dungeon with something, probably trying some more to make those Amazon captives talk."

"She'll be there for hours," added the drow boy with a smirk, indicating that his spirit was far from broken. "Those warrior women are made of steel and fire: nothing our mistress does to them will break them, ever."

The nod the boys shared at the drow's assessment of the Amazons, coupled with the light of admiration in their eyes, showed a likely source from which they had drawn their inspiration not to be broken, even as pleasure slaves. It certainly explained how ready they were to take a chance at freedom, even if it came from strangers.

"They _are_telling the truth," opined Lesage, helpful as always, as she hovered effortlessly near Rufus' shoulder. "At least as they know it. And I don't detect any malice towards you from either of them."

Path Choices

Looks like we're running out of options here.

First, what to do with our two new discoveries?

A) Well...we can take a little time. We can have a little fun up here, then get back to exploration. (Make suggestions of what you'd like to see if you choose this option, and if we take the boys with us afterward)

B) We can have our fun later. Right now, free the boys and take 'em with us.

C) Meh, they can wait. Leave the two right where they are and then get going.

And where do we go next?

1) Water can't be that bad. Through the downstairs door that had the sound of water behind it.

2) Smells awful, but that's how we like it. The door with the smell of brimstone.

3) The depths! Into the lower parts of the tower, approaching the basement.