#Lore24 – Entry #321 – Fantasy Month IV #16 – Detours and Detainments

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Upon leaving the standing stones, the greatest source of my frustration finally stopped their incessant buzzing, returning to their more normal routine of random stimulation that only left me mildly frustrated in comparison.  The southeasterly course we had picked was not as easy to navigate as our previous route and thus took us several more days to traverse, but didn’t seem to pass through any kobold territory, so at least we were unmolested in that regard.  There were dangers aplenty, though, for with game being plentiful, it meant we also encountered more predators that were none too pleased to have intruders into their territory.  Though mostly your more mundane cougars, wolves, and the like, we did have to deal with another flame-drake that came at us from above.  I must say that for once I was quite pleased to see Ellisar’s Staff of Many Bindings be used, for it made short work of the creature once its ability to fly had been taken from it.

Our luck would not hold, however.  As we neared the region where we were likely to find the next set of standing stones, we began to see signs of humanoid habitation in the form of painted markings upon the rocks, old campfires, bones of harvested game.  The rock paintings indicated orcs, likely one of the many tribes of them that the Heroes had been facing on a semi-regular basis since they had begun their work in the region.  Soon enough we would begin to see cooking fires in the distance indicating a very large population of them.  Thus far, only a scant few tribes have proven themselves the least bit civilized, the Empire’s loyal Badaxe Clan foremost among them, so it was unlikely that these tribes would be willing to entertain outsiders in their lands, especially when said outsiders are likely responsible or killing a great many of their kin.

Thus, we were forced to move with extreme caution, detouring off our planned route for several days, following Shassk and Korvalis as they navigated a route that would avoid the worst of the orcish population.  At least we would gather some useful information about their location and numbers for future use.  Once we had come out of orcish territory, we had to swing back to the northwest, circling the rim of the valley that housed the standing stones for another day before we finally found a passable route down into it.  Thankfully the orcs had not claimed the area for their own, and like the previous stones, the primal energy that lay heavy upon the site had kept them away. 

We completed our next ritual without incident and made haste to clear the area, driving swiftly to the southeast once more in the direction of Vindinium.  Our good fortune would run out as we neared the Thistlewood and Lake Thistlelonica, on the far side from the village.  As we ventured along the upper shore of the lake in search of the river that fed it, and a crossing that would get us to the village, we found ourselves facing a sudden ambush that even our guides had failed to notice, for it was not at all what we had come to expect.

In our haste to return to the village, we had failed to notice the curious nature of the overgrowth in this region, the thick canopy of leafy vines that spread like a green sea over the hills, wood, and shore.  We skirted the mass, not wanting to go through blindly, but the mass of vegetation came alive, swelling and rising up like great leafy serpents.  Our horses were spooked, rearing and dancing wildly at the sudden movement, and Risai, Korvalis, and I were unable to control their wild behavior and were thrown.  As we tried to recover from our misfortune, bruised and dazed from our falls, I heard shouting and chanting in a language that I would later come to recognize as the secret tongue of the Druids.  Walls of thorns sprang up between us and the rest of our party, and the very trees began to come alive against us.  The vines closed in around us as spells filled the air, and try as I might, I could not keep the vines away from me or the others.  Risai’s heavy mace was mostly useless against the vegetation, as were Korvalis’s daggers. 

In my case, the vines swarmed around me in a fury, and as they latched onto me and their secretions began to tingle upon my skin, I realized that they were a form of maidenbane vines, for I grew somehow hornier and lethargic in their grasp, dropping my scimitar as they coiled about me and ripped my clothing away.  I suppose I was the lucky one here, for I was at least somewhat protected from their most erotic probing by Lady Armenia’s chastity gear, though they still found their way to my rear and into my mouth.  Fight as they would, Risai and Korvalis were likewise subdued by the combined strength of the vines themselves and the potency of their poison, leaving them helplessly wrapped in their invasive clutches.

The sounds of battle would fade as the others were forced into a hasty retreat, and through our pleasure-addled daze, we would see the fur- and foliage-covered druids we had not noticed approach us, watching with satisfaction as their vines continued to hold us helpless before them.  Using their magic, they urged the binding maidenbane vines to move, and we were brought deeper into the cover of the Thistlewood, for what purpose I could not imagine in that moment, for I was lost in the pleasure haze, even if the accursed chastity gear prevented me from climaxing, even with the poison coursing through my veins.