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The Elemental Portals

Book II – Medioterrae

Chapter IV – For Whom the Trolls Bellow

Dawn found Paul and Darryl standing in the square in front of the Inn waiting for the rest to appear.

The dragon sniffed the air and waved his forked tongue about a bit. He frowned.

“What’s wrong?” The collie asked sniffing the air himself. “Do you smell something?”

“No, not at all.”

“Were you expecting to?”

“I was hoping to, but my sense of smell is still too underdeveloped to pick up their scent.”

Paul’s frown became a look of puzzlement. “Who’s scent?”

“The maidens. There must be some maidens in a town this big.”

Paul stifled a grin. “Maybe not, this is a garrison town after all.”

“Ah! Soldiers, yes. I’ve heard about them. I even thought about becoming one to assist in my search for maidens, but my mother would not let me.”

Paul took a long hard look at the dragon before replying. “I’ve been a soldier, Darryl, and believe me, the chance of running across a … maiden … while serving are slim to none. The women who work the camps are the farthest things from maidens you can imagine.”

“Are you suggesting that the recruiting sergeant lied?”

“It’s their job to lie. If they told the truth no one would ever join.”

Just then Annie and Gael emerged from the Inn. They were rubbing their eyes as if they had not gotten enough sleep.

“Up late last night?” Paul said with a knowing smile.

“More like ‘up often’.” Annie replied with a wink.

Darryl looked puzzled. “What were you up to?” He asked.

“I’ll, uh, explain it later.” Paul told him. “Look here comes Junafir and James.”

The human male and Tigress also looked like they could have used some more sleep also, although from the smell of soap on their hair and fur they must have gotten up early to bathe again. Darryl thought that seemed a waste of time and water if one was going to spend the day on the dusty road anyways. He was about to ask the worldly collie about that too when the last two their party appeared.

The coyote looked refreshed, as if she had gotten a good rest, but the grey fox was another matter. Not only was he yawning and rolling his head and shoulders as if he had past an uncomfortable night but there also appeared to be some fresh patches of fur missing from his around his neck and some chaffing, the kind struggling against a rough rope could give you. Darryl checked the scars around his ankle and fount them very similar. She seemed to get along well enough with the former assassin, but it looked like she had been punishing Chris for some reason.

Darryl backed away from the coyote as she strode up to the collie beside him, a little afraid of what she might do to someone she disliked.

“Where is the elf?” She asked Paul.

“I’m right here.”

Startled, they all looked around to see the buff female standing right behind Darryl.

“Out of the way, worm.” She snarled as she stepped past the young dragon.

Ladread was wearing more clothes than the day before when she had appeared in Morholt’s audience chamber, but not much more. Her armour consisted of plates of thin dark metal where a sword blow might best be deflected and a breastplate of the same material. A short skirt covered her groin and when she walked it parted to reveal that she wore a loincloth underneath. She also had on a cloak, which was thrown back at the moment to expose her in all her muscular glory. She wore no shoes or sandals and carried no weapon that they could see, but she did have a pack slung over her back.

“Are you all ready to go?” She asked skeptically as she surveyed the blurry-eyed members of the band.

“As ready as you are.” Annie said with a huff, looking around at the others for confirmation. “Just where is this dragon anyway?”

“Mordor, I’ll bet.” James mumbled.

“No, That’s on Westernesse.” Coyotka corrected him automatically.

Ladread gave them both looks that could melt glass before answering Annie. “Aldreda the dread lives north of here in Muspelia, the Land of Fire.”

“You may know it as Muspelheim, from your Norse mythology.” Coyotka informed them. “It is a land with many active volcanoes, like the one in Cognitionis, with portals connecting it to many worlds, including Asgard, which of course is well connected to your Scandinavian region.”

Her voice trailed off when she discovered that no one was listening. The rest, including Chris, were all gathered around the bulky elf as she drew a map in the dust with a cast-off chicken bone she had picked up from the gutter.

“We have to keep between the Great forest and the western mountain range.” She explained.

“Why?” Darryl asked. “I was hatched on the border of Muspelia and I wandered around that region on my way south. There is nothing to fear on either side of the low way and they both have much better roads.”

Ladread stood up to her full height, which was a hand’s breadth more than Darryl and furrowed her mighty brow.

“We are avoiding the mountains because they are full of stinking dwarves who would kill a poor defenceless elf like me on sight.”

“Uh, sure.” Darryl conceded as he tried to calculate how far she could throw him, or a small horse for that matter. “But why not the forest? It’s home to elves.”

Ladread shrugged. “My, uh, people and I have had a falling out. I cannot go back there.”

“Because of you and Morholt?” Junafir asked.

Ladread’s face went through shock and anger before settling on amusement. “It’s not like that, kitten. Elves don’t care about who one mates with, and Morholt does not attract me in that manner.” She looked sideways at Paul as she continued. “The Irish knight is more gravy than stew.”

Paul cocked one brow. “I’m not sure that I follow you. Are you saying he’s a poser?”

“That his bark is worse than his bite?” James slipped in.

Ladread gave James a withering look and turned back to Paul, where her expression softened. “I’m saying that while he is a good fighter and a ruthless general his reputation is greater than his ability. Should a real leader, one that could rally the humans and other species that live in Lyonesse around him could defeat Morholt and bring peace back to the land.

Paul considered her words before replying. “I don’t know what your game is Ladread, but I did not come here to liberate anyone, except maybe for Darryl’s bug, Tenille.”

“She’s a Parasprite.” Darryl corrected. “And I for one do not think that we need this elf’s help anyway. I can guide you to the broader of Muspelia and from there it should not be too hard to find Aldreda. We just need to go to the tallest mountain and search the deepest lava caves to find one large enough to hold her and a hoard that is sure to be immense.”

Ladread smiled cruelly as she leaned back. “Good luck with the trolls, ogres and spiders then.”

Gael’s brow shot up. “Trolls?”

Junafir’s tail puffed up. “Ogres?”

Chris went pale. “Sp-, spiders?”

“Oh yes. Hairy ones as big as a pony with fangs that drip poison. They’ve been moving into the region since Morholt took over and pulled all the troops back to protect his castle.”

“I vote we follow the elf.”

Paul looked from Darryl to Ladread and back. “I think it is best that we listen to her for now.”

Darryl turned away in disgust. “Sure, listen to the humanoid. What do I know? I’m just a reptile.”

Junafir rushed to comfort the dragon. “Oh, Darryl. Paul is just a bit ... distrustful of strangers. Why it was weeks before he let Chris stand watch by himself.”

“Chris the assassin? The fox who makes a living killing people?” Darryl asked with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Strange that it took so long warm up to him.”

“Don’t be like that. Paul has taken our safety as his personal responsibility, and he as a few ... prejudices. I know that you aren’t the kind of dragon to be carrying maidens off.”

“Have you seen any? I mean, no, of course not. Not unless they wanted me to.” He flexed his small wings. “And they didn’t weigh too much. But your dog would probably interfere even if I tried to chat one up a bit, because I’m not mammalian enough for him.” He huffed.

Annie and James joined them, and they stepped aside to placate the dragon while Chris, Coyotka, Gael and Paul continued to question the elf.

“Any other monsters were likely to run into?”

“No. Those that live along the low road are mostly human, with a few wizards thrown in.”

“Wizards? Are they a separate race?”

“It would seem so, although they look human and can breed with any species humans can. The result is often a half-wizard ... someone with limited magical abilities, but to be honest, none of the wizards in Northern Lyonesse are anything to write home about. I would not worry about them, especially with the gems you have on your weapons. They look likely to counter even the most powerful spells.”

“Yes, about the gems.” Paul glanced at Gael and Chris before continuing. “We know about certain inherent passive capabilities they possess, but we are not sure what deliberate powers they may have.”

“Or how to control them.” Gael added.

“Oh, by the Great Dra- ... by the Mother Tree. You seriously expect to take on an elder dragon at the height of her power with incompletely enchanted weapons? You’ll probably fry yourselves trying to deflect her fiery breath with the ruby the boy carries or freeze your companions trying to cast ice lances with the sapphire.”

Remembering how James almost brought a tsunami of lava down on their heads Paul said nothing, but he filed the information about the possible use of the gems away.

“But elves are magical creatures, are they not?” Coyotka injected. “Surely you can help us determine the extent of the gems’ powers and how to command them?”

Ladread’s eyes shot back and forth like she was seeking an avenue of escape and she dipped her head slightly as she replied. “Elf magic is not like that.”

“What kind of magic do elves possess that would defeat a dragon?” Paul asked.

She looked away, avoiding eye contact. “I’d rather not say. If our secrets got out ... you know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” Paul thought that she was being evasive, but he did not know enough about this world to judge her just yet. He made a mental note to talk with Coyotka and Darryl to see what they knew about elf magic so as not to be caught unawares. “We should move out before it gets too late.”

They gathered the others and, shouldering their newly replenished packs set out down the stone road heading north out of the fortified town.

“Don’t worry, Tenille.” Darryl called back over his shoulder. “We’ll be together again sooner than you think.”

* * * * * * * *

With the guidance of Rory Douglas’s star gazers Sevade and Nahal were able to end straight towards Morholt’s castle without having to wait until they stumbled across one of the roads leading to it like the creatures they were pursuing had. It did not save they any time, however, as travelling cross-country was slower and they occasionally had to run away and hide from angry farmers who mistook them for marauders.

So it was that they came to the fortified city at the heart of Lyonesse two full days after their quarry had, unbeknown to them, departed for the north. They were further delayed in seeking an audience with Morholt due to the fact that he had gone on an overnight hunting trip.

They spent the day asking around after the mixed group and eventually found the Inn they had stayed in.

“Your friends left two, three days ago.” The Innkeeper told them after having his palm oiled with silver. “Left with the elf warrior wot lives up in the castle. A real piece that one is. More muscle than padding. Probably break yer back if’s she wrapped those great thighs around ye and squeezed just a bit. Why, I bet she’s got a quim that ...”

“Do you know where they were headed or which way they went?” Sevade interrupted.

“No idea. If the elf is with them then it’s Morholt’s business and it don’t pay to know too much about Morholt’s business.”

“We could ask at the gates and in the communities around them to find out which way they went.” Nahal suggested. “Then Maybe we can track them from there.”

Sevade shook his head. “That would take too long. If what this oaf said about the elf is true then the Lord of the castle will know where they are headed. Besides, Douglas said that he could help us with something that could defeat the magic in their gems.”

“What do you propose?”

“That we take a room here for the night and seek an audience with Morholt tomorrow.”

“Two rooms.”

“We can’t afford to squander the money Douglas gave us.”

“You just want to fuck.”

It was true, but that didn’t change anything as far as Sevade was concerned.

“I’ll tell you what. You’ve been collecting herbs and roots and bark for weeks. You think that you can brew up an undetectable poison with them?”

“If your teaching been true, yes.”

“After we pay for ONE room, I’ll go clean up and then visit the pub while you take all the time you need to brew up a few potions. If I can’t tell without sampling them which one is poisonous then you can have the room to yourself and I’ll go sleep in the common room. But if I can detect the poison then we share the room, and you do whatever I ask until dawn. Deal?”

Nahal looked at the fox through narrowed eyes for a few moments before answering. “Deal. But you better reserve a comfortable chair close to the fire.”

Sevade smiled in a way that made the scar that bisected his face twist in an obscene manner as he got up and turned to the counter to reserve a room.

After a quick bath and a trip to the hardware shop to procure some small pots and other utensils Nahal set to brewing her potions. She was grateful to find that the basic laws of chemistry still held on this world and most of the plants she had collected reacted with others as she had hoped they would.

She sniffed and sampled the smallest possible amount of each before she was satisfied. Not even the fox’s sensitive nose could possibly detect the difference between the poison and the harmless spice mixture one could season their supper with.

She glanced at the setting sun through the window. She had a while yet before Sevade would return to share supper and try to discern which potion was the deadly one.

She thought about her past and her future and the value of revenge as she watched the sun set. She reached a silent conclusion as the first stars appeared in the sky. Working quickly she crushed a few almond-like nuts that she had decided earlier not to use and squeezed a few drops of low grade cyanide from them. Distilling the liquid would remove the smell but leave the poison, but instead she boiled it down, which destroyed the poison but left a trace of the odour.

She added to concentrated nut juice to one of her potions.

Sevade returned, having spent the equivalent of another room at the bar of the common room. The beer would dull his senses, and make him dangerous if he lost, but Nahal stuck to her plan.

The servant that worked the kitchen delivered their supper, a hot, steaming stew as the two sat silently across the table from each other. After she left Nahal produced the two vials and passed them to Sevade.

The red fox examined their consistency and colour before taking a sniff of each. His brow and nose wrinkled as he searched for traces of anything noxious in the first, but they went smooth after he tried the second, the one she had added the almond extract to.

“Your technique is lacking.” He said with a smile of anticipation. “Or perhaps you lacked the proper equipment. Cyanide should be distilled, not evaporated.” He sniffed again. “This would not do more than ruin the stew and make our tummies upset.”

He poured it out onto the floor. “Should we add the other to our meal?”

“No.” She said, pulling the other vial back. “It is too bland. But I did manage to find some peppers similar to those that grow in my homeland. They should compliment the stew nicely.”

She offered some ground dried peppers. Sevade sniffed them carefully, still wary of one that he had imparted so much of his tradecraft to.

“Spicy.” He pronounced and smiled again as she sprinkled a good portion in her bowl before eating a big spoonful. He put a few flakes in his own bowl and joined her.

The shock of the spice and the steam rising from the stew made him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Nahal took that opportunity to slip the vail he had decided was safe into her cloak.

They ate in silence. When they were done Sevade rang for the maid to collect the plates. When she was gone Sevade stood up and swept his hand toward the bed.

“We have a deal, yes?”

Nahal removed her cloak and folded it neatly before putting it on her chair. She began to remove her other clothes.

“Yes.” She said as she stood naked before him. “How would you like me?”

Sevade came up close to her. The scars on her face had healed completely, much like those of many of the assassins he knew. Her grey-blue eyes blazed out from between the pink furrows of flesh much like his did when he was angry, just like those of the grey fox he had been reluctantly partnered with.

Several weeks away from Mister Ross and his keen razor had allowed a soft layer of fuzz to grow on the young woman’s torso and limbs. That was fine for Sevade, who was not as enamoured with the feel of furless flesh as Rory Douglas was. The sex with her as good, he admitted, but now that he had sated his lust often enough he was starting to crave something more ... something more alighted with his desires.

He reached for a parcel he had brought back with him.

“First of all,” he said, “put this on.” He pulled a grey fox tail that had been made into a wrap out of his bag. He had found it in a clothing store and then taken it to the local tailor and had it sewn onto a cloth belt that would fit Nahal’s waist.

She did as she was told.

“Now get on your knees at the edge of the bed, facing the wall.

Nahal complied.

Sevade dropped his clothes in the middle of the floor and moved in behind her. He ran his hands over the short fuzz growing on her butt and along her thighs before taking the wild fox tail between them. He pulled on it, dug his fingers into the fur that was still thick and lush, a testimony to the flesher that had prepared it. Despite being lifeless it felt just like he imagined Chris’s would.

He raised the fake tail to expose the wrinkled hole below it.

“Did you bring some lube?” He asked Nahal as his cock began to rise from its sheath.

* * * * * * *

They travelled much as they had before, with each person contributing according to the passive gifts the gems brought, and even though they were still in Morholt’s kingdom Paul insisted that they stand a watch at night. The only one who was exempt from that duty was Ladread, because she refused to camp with them.

“You’ll be safer in a group.” Paul advised her the first night.

“Your group is going to attract more trouble than it’s worth, so I’ll camp alone. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you set of in the morning.”

The first morning Paul got up early and tried to find where she was camping, but her trail disappeared in a clearing in the woods. The second night he had Gael try to follow her, but the tricky elf lost him before they had gone a mile from the camp.

Gael told Paul later. “The only clue I had to which direction she took was that she disturbed some large bird that flew off north, but by the time I got to where it had flown from she was gone.”

“What kind of bird was it?” Darryl asked, thinking that if it was a goose it would make a nice breakfast.

“An eagle, I think, or a vulture. Something large.”

Darryl grunted in disappointment. Eagles were tough to kill and vultures tasted like shit. It looked like rats or oatmeal again.

For the first few days the road to the north was much like the east-west road they had used to get to Morholt’s castle. There were farms and villages and the occasional patrol of Morholt’s troops, which all approached them suspiciously until they saw Ladread. Once they recognized the Lord’s favorite elf warrior they saluted cautiously and veered off.

“Your reputation precedes you.” Paul commented.

“They’re scared because I’ve broken so many of their comrades.”

“In the Arena?” Darryl asked.

Ladread smiled wickedly back. “In the bedroom, lizard.”

“You’re no maiden, that’s for sure.” Darryl muttered as he bucked away. The elf ignored him.

Things changed on the fourth day though. After crossing a ridge that formed the northern border of Lyonesse the road became a broken trail through a land was unsuitable for farming. There were no more patrols and no villages to speak of.

“The place is deserted.” James noted.

“Not quite.” Paul replied. “There are people out there, but they are keeping out of sight. They are probably afraid of us.”

“Afraid of us?”

“There are nine of us, a large party for these parts, and most of us are armed. Those that aren’t,” he gestured to Ladread and then to Darryl, “are formidable enough without them.”

James reflected on that. The locals were much shorter than him and tended to be slim. Even Morholt and his imported troops were just average size for medieval Europeans, though much fitter than the starving Lyonessians. Their group of mixed humans and terrans would have looked terrifying to anyone trying to eke out a living in this barren wilderness. Add to that the tall muscular elf and a young dragon with talons as long as their fingers and it was not hard to see why they would be leery of showing themselves.

James grunted, conceding the point.

“They won’t bother us if we don’t linger in their territory.” Paul concluded.

“Very astute, canine.” Ladread, who had been close enough to overhear their conversation commented. “Was it your keen eye or nose that detected them?”

“Both. But I suspect that you knew of them before I did.”

The elf shrugged, which made her shoulder muscles resemble boulders moving under a layer of ruddy earth during a small earthquake.

“I did, but I was not expecting them to be so shy. These people are scroungers, miners and tinkers and there is profit to be made selling small goods and services to even an armed party such as ours.”

“What services?” Junafir asked, imagining a mobile spa with shampoo for her tangled fur and a masseuse for her aching feet.

“Sword sharpening, armour repair, shoeing horses, and ...” she turned and smiled at Darryl sweetly for once, “... skinning dragons.”

Darryl made a gesture that was quite rude in dragon culture and Ladread laughed as she turned away.

“Seriously though,” she said to Paul, “there must be some trouble about to made them act this way.”

Mid morning on the fifth day they discovered what that trouble was.

Chris had been scouting ahead and he returned with a troubling report.

“There is a deep river gorge ahead.” He told them. “The only way across is a stone bridge, however there are three trolls holding the bridge.”

Paul turned to Ladread. “Did you now about them?”

She shook her head. “No. They were not there when I passed this way years ago. Normally the bridge is held by a gang of ruffians that only want a bit of silver for passage, or the equivalent in trade.” She looked at Junafir, who had opted to walk without clothes on this warm day. “But trolls are a different matter.”

“But wouldn’t the sunlight turn them to stone?” James asked.

Darryl, Ladread and Coyotka all broke into laughter.

“Who told you that?” Ladread asked when she could speak again.

“A guy named Tolkien.”

“Well,” Coyotka said, adjusting her glasses, “he has obviously never been to Medioterrae. The Trolls here nay resemble rocks in that their hides are almost impenetrable, but other than a tendency to nap on warm afternoons they do not go into crystalline hibernation diurnally.”

“What did she say?” Junafir asked.

Annie answered. “They don’t turn into rocks.”

“Oh.”

“How much will they demand for passage?” Gael asked.

“One or two of us, if we’re lucky.”

“What?” Gael bristled, pulling Annie in close to him. “For sex?”

“No, to eat. Although they would likely fuck anyone we nominated to leave behind half to death first. It helps to tenderize them, apparently.” Ladread said quite seriously. “No wonder the locals didn’t want to be seen, they were afraid that we would pick up a couple of them to sacrifice. So,” she said looking around at the rest, “who’s it going to be?”

James bristled. “No way anyone here is getting eaten”

“Not even the dragon or the assassin that tried to kill you?” Ladread said, tossing her head. “I suspect the offer of an off-world species would intrigue them, and Trolls have a particular taste for dragon. It doesn’t matter that they are both male; Trolls don’t particularly care who they rape before eating.”

“No!” Paul interceded. “Chris has proved his loyalty to his oath and we made a deal with Darryl. James is right, no one gets eaten, or raped.”

“So, how do we proceed?” Gael asked. “Take them by surprise? Rush in and overwhelm them?”

Ladread shook her head. “Trolls are a bit stupid, but not that easy to kill. A couple of your weapons might be good enough to kill one if you had a clear shot at a weak spot, but ordinary knives and crossbow bolts are useless. You need to distract them, get their guard down and then strike sure and swift.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “What are their weak spots?”

“The base of their skull has a soft triangle that can be pierced, either striking up into their brain or straight in to sever their spine. Personally, I’d go for the spine, sticking them in the brain only slows them down a bit.”

“Anywhere else? The groin perhaps?”

“Oh no! Don’t strike them there. It will only make them angry. Their buttocks are vulnerable though.”

“Their buttocks?”

“Their ass, specifically their asshole. A spear up the poop chute is the quickest way to kill a Troll. It’s because their heart is wrapped up inside their intestines just up there.”

Paul looked inquisitively at Coyotka.

“Don’t ask me.” the coyote replied. “No wanderer has ever dissected a Troll as far as I know.”

Paul thought deeply. “Three Trolls. There chances at hitting a soft spot. Annie’s spear, Gael’s sword and either James’s or my katana would do the trick. But their vulnerable points are all on to their rear. The question is, how do we distract them so that their backs will be turned to us when we move in?” He looked around for ideas.

Before anyone could speak Ladread began to remove her skimpy armour. “I’ll distract them.”

Paul’s eyebrows shot up as he realized her intent. “Ladread, no!”

“Don’t worry, pup. No one is getting raped, although those trolls are going to be fucked … hopefully.” She laughed for a moment before turning serious again. “Just don’t miss.”

Paul still looked worried. “How will we know when to attack?”

She laughed again. “When you can see all your targets exposed.” With they she dropped the last of her armour and turned her back to them.

What happened next mesmerized all the off-worlders, and Darryl too.

As she walked away from them, Ladread began to transform. Her skin, which had been bronzed from exposure to the sun, began to turn pale. Her ears grew longer and turned down to point sideways from her head. Her black hair grew lighter, and longer, until it fell down her back in golden tresses. She grew shorter, and slimmer, her muscles evaporating to be replaced by a narrow waist, wide hips, a firm, round behind and, when she turned to wink at the collie, two perfect breasts tipped with pink nipples.

“Holy shit!” James exclaimed. Junafir slapped the back of his head to bring him back down to earth.

“Incredible.” Gael commented without any trace of lust.

“Yeah.” Annie agreed, a little jealous. She had always wanted to be blonde.

Darryl’s tongue licked his thin whiskers. “Now that’s what I call a maiden.”

“Strange.” Coyotka muttered. “I haven’t read any reports of elves being able to transform on this world.”

Chris and Paul’s eyes had grown wide. Paul turned to Darryl. “Did you know that elves could do that?”

“No.” Darryl admitted. “But elves and dragons don’t exactly co-exist happily here.”

“Does anyone on this world?”

“No, not really.”

They watched the naked, blond elf maiden walk around a curve in the trail and her disappearance seemed to break the spell they were under.

“Alright.” Paul said, turning to face the rest. “Gael and I should go because we have good weapons and experience. Annie,” he said addressing the human girl, “your spear is the best weapon we have but this won’t be like killing a foe that is trying to kill you. It will be a cold-blooded strike against a defenceless enemy. I respect you and your fierce fighting spirit, but I don’t think you have it in you to strike an unsuspecting victim from behind.”

Annie used her lips for a moment before owing her head in submission. “What are you asking, Paul?”

“Will you let Chris use your spear? He has the temperament for this job but not the weapon.”

Annie held out her spear, which she had carried assembled since they left Lyonesse. “Take it.”

Chris stepped forward and took the offering. “Don’t fell bad, Annie.” He told her. “This is not an honourable task, but a necessary one, and lately I’ve come to learn the difference between being honourable and just being necessary. You are better off staying out of it.”

“Paul and Gael don’t seem to mind.”

“Oh, we do.” Gael assured her. “But when we volunteered as soldiers they trained the honour out of us.”

“That’s not true. You can get it back.”

“That thought is what keeps us going.” Paul said. “But at the moment our best option is a quick, merciful kill.” He drew his sword, and the Japanese steel shimmered in the sunlight. “Let’s go.”

They moved forward as a group with Paul, Gael and Chris in front. As the trail began to narrow Gael indicated where the rest should wait.

“Come s fast as you can if you hear me whistle.” Paul whispered.

The three designated attackers moved forward, catching sight of Ladread in her svelte, blonde form just before she entered the clearing near the bridgehead. They caught up and halted behind a thick bush just as she approached the bridge.

The Trolls looked up as soon as she entered the clearing. Her hips swayed seductively as she approached them. Paul could only imagine what she looked like from the front, but the view from behind was making an uncomfortable bulge in his sheath.

The Trolls stood up as she approached. The tree limbs that they used for clubs dropped from their blunt hands. Drool dripped from their mouths as they imagined what such a tender morsel would taste like and the cow-hide skirts they had draped around their waists rose as other uses for her crept into their minds.

“Holy maker, Gael that one is as big as you!” Chris exclaimed as the tallest Troll threw his loin covering aside to reveal and erection as hard as rock.

“They all are.” Paul noted as the other Trolls did likewise.

“I don’t blame them.” Darryl said from behind them.

“You were supposed to wait with the rest.” Paul hissed.

“And miss this?”

“This is not for your entertainment.”

“It’s more frustrating than entertaining, to be honest. Look at her! She turned herself from a jaded elf into an innocent, little, untainted ...”

“You need some serious help with that maiden fetish of yours.” Gael said in a low voice.

“You all need to shut up and wait for our chance” Chris reminded them.

They watched, fascinated, as Ladread approached the Trolls in her new form. The trolls looked equally mesmerized as she sashayed up to them, playing with her hair and brushing her fingers over her sumptuous curves as she neared them.

Then the tallest of the Trolls began to stoke his penis and Ladread headed straight for him. She rubbed herself between her legs as she approached, filling the air with a scent that made Paul put a restraining hand to his groin. The Trolls evidently caught it too, as they began to jabber and caress their erections excitedly while Ladread dropped to her knees in front of their leader. Her small pale hands raised to grip his cock. It was too thick for one hand to wrap completely around it so she stroked him with both. Then she began to plant small kisses on the knobby bulge of grey flesh that formed the head.

“Maker.” Gael swore. “She can’t get that in her mouth, can she?”

Ladread proved him wrong, trenching her lips around the rock-hard cock while he continued to stroke the long shaft.

“I’m, uh, gonna change bushes.” Darryl said, rising to a half crouch with his hands covering his groin. “Just so as to, uh, flank them.” He hurried off to another shrub that had a good view of the action by the bridge. Paul could hear heavy panting from that direction.

It did not matter; the Trolls were making enough noise to cover everything except a stampede of elephants. Over by the bridge, Ladread had not only managed to get a forearm’s length of the leader’s cock down her throat, but she had also taken each of his cohorts in hand and was jerking them furiously.

It was exciting, and enticing, Paul had to admit, but it was not helping their situation any. All three Trolls were still facing their way and on top of that the leader appeared to be wearing an iron collar that would protect his vulnerable neck. He reminded himself that Ladread must have some sort of plan, so he took a deep breath and waited for her to move them into a vulnerable position.

As if sensing his anxiety, she began to shift around. Sliding under the lead Troll between his legs she twisted around, leading him with her mouth, until his back was to the hidden attackers. Then, rolling onto her back, she spread her legs and offered herself to him.

Her sex was bald, with just a tuft of blond hair above it. The mons was already swollen and pink with just a hint of the inner lips showing. And of course, there was that enticing scent.

“Great Drake save me.” Came from the shrub that conceded Darryl. Paul tried to ignore him as the Troll forced his hard, grey cock between the pale white lips of Ladread’s cunt.

She pulled him down on top of her and rolled her hips. Showing surprising strength for such a small body she forced the lead Troll to rise up on his toes so that he could get a clean stroke. Once he had though the Troll fucked her hard and high, using all his considerable weight as he slammed his long, hard cock into her wet hole.

In that position his black puckered asshole was pointed straight at the bush they were hiding behind.

“That’s one.” Paul whispered

Taking all the lead roll had to give her, Ladread pulled the other two around by their cocks. She continued to stoke them, but when they were facing her she also alternated licking their slightly smaller grey knobs. She teased them closer as she wrapped her lips around one and then the other. Soon they were ass to ass beside the leader, their heads swaying back an forth as she sucked them each in turn.

“And that is three.” Paul declared. As one the three attackers broke cover and charged.

The Trolls never saw them coming. Gael took the one on the left with a thrust that nearly took the Trolls head off. Paul struck the one on the right with a swipe that had a little more finesse, but the same results. Chris took aim at the puckered black hole above the hanging sac what he assumed to be the leader’s testicles and drove Annie’s spear into it as far as he could.

The two on the flanks died instantly, but the leader lingered long enough to bellow in a manner that shook the rocks of the hillside and claw at his nearest assailant, that being the elf below him, but even in her diminished form Ladread showed amazing strength by grabbing the Troll by the wrists and fending off his attack until his sweaty throes diminished.

She pushed the corpse of the Troll off and stood up. Her pale, seductive body began to tremble as she began to transform back into her familiar form. After a few moments she stood above all but Gael, muscles rock hard and bronzed skin covered in Troll blood and sweat.

“Did you bring my armour?” She asked.

Paul, whose mouth had been hanging open during the transformation, closed it and whistled shrilly before replying. “It’s on the way.”

“Good. I almost feel naked without it.”

Paul turned away and whistled for the rear party to come up, his hands even more firmly over his groin than before.

Ladread stepped up close to the canine and smiled down on him. Chris and Gael slipped away and busied themselves dragging the heavy bodies away from the bridge.

“Thank you for attacking so promptly, Colliman. I was afraid you would wait until the beast came inside me to strike.”

“Perish the thought.” Paul said, trying to drive the image of the blonde elf with the perfect little quim out of his mind.”

She looked around, and only seemed to notice the blood and gore on her for the first time. “There is a spring on the other side of the bridge. I’m going to go clean up. You look like you got a little on you too.” She said, pointing to a black stain on Paul’s nose. “You should wash it off immediately. Troll blood can burn the skin if left on too long.”

She began to walk toward the bridge but stopped and called back to him over her shoulder, “Are you coming?”

From behind a nearby bush Darryl’s strangled voice came. “If he’s not I am.”

Paul coughed to cover up the other noises coming from behind that bush.

“Yes I am ... I mean, I’ll be right there.” He trotted to catch up with her.

She didn’t wait, and the sight of thick muscles rolling around under tanned skin covered with dust from the road where the Troll had taken her was almost as exciting as her blond form. He was so distracted by it that he did not notice that she had come to a sudden halt at the end of the bridge and almost ran into that muscular backside.

He only had a moment to wonder why she had stopped when a gruff voice came from a pile of boulders nearby.

“Everybody freeze. Don’t move or the elf gets it.”

Paul Collieman © Collifan

Gael Tholkes © MarcusXLight

Junafir Pawstone © Frostlupus

Chris Cinereo © Kyroo Echos

Sevade © Frostlupus

Constance “Coyotka” Jotkowska © Coyotek

Darryl D. Dragon © Major Matt Mason

Ladread © White Tiger Hunting

Aldreda © White Tiger Hunting