Feeling the tight not-leather -what, exactly, this magical suit of hers was made of, she didn't know, but leather was the closest comparison she could draw- of her new garments clinging tightly to every curve and contour of her body was an incredible experience for Shadowheart. She'd never thought of herself as a nudist, never thought about sex at all really -or, at least, not such that she could remember-, yet being naked and vulnerable to Sylvanas' eyes had left her near-constantly wet for the last several days. But somehow this not-naked nakedness, this knowledge that she was technically clothed, but that what she was wearing displayed everything sensual and martial about her body? It was just as arousing. Gods, she could literally see the curves of her labia and the peak of her nipples in the material.
Better still, it didn't restrict her movement at all, in spite of it's tightness. Which only reinforced the point that it was magical, as if the fact that it had come out of nowhere and spread across the body of those who wore it like some sort of liquid.
Though the best thing of all had been the blush on Ciri's cheeks when she and her lover -and they were lovers. Getting on her knees and sucking Sylvanas' cock until she'd gotten a bellyful of seed was plenty enough for that, even if they hadn't made love yet- had rejoined her and passed over the clothes. The vampire had definitely heard what they'd gotten up to, and probably could smell it on them as well. Which should make Shadowheart feel awkward, even disgusted with herself, but frankly she just found herself feeling more aroused and smug than anything else.
No, wait, that wasn't the best thing. Ciri was beautiful and seemed to know her place, at least to one degree or one another. Appropriately grateful for Sylvanas' offer to let the silver-haired slut feed off of her, and appropriately eager to get up close and personal with the succubus. All of that bought her plenty of goodwill from Shadowheart, now that her own place as Sylvanas' First Girl had been properly established.
The real best thing was was the fact that the damned gith was still naked, very much the outsider of the group -even in spite of Ciri being a complete stranger to all three of them-, and had been injured to the point of immobility until they'd found her. Now, she owed Shadowheart for her current good health, a fact that the half-elf was going to lord over her for as long as possible. Served the beast right, for stealing the greatsword Sylvanas had captured and abandoning them in the middle of the night.
"Hold on, there are tracks." Sylvanas' voice cut quite suddenly through her thoughts, crouching down and examining a patch of forest that seemed no different from any other to Shadowheart's eyes, sniffing faintly. "Looks like goblins to me. Smells like it too. Ciri, come."
The girl obeyed immediately, moving forward and dropping to her knees beside Sylvanas, taking both a look and a long, deep inhale before nodding in agreement.
"Just over a dozen of them, I would say. No scent of magic, just metal and rot. Poison of some kind, maybe, on their weapons? It's hard to say, but I can certainly track them down." she confirmed aloud, sounding disgusted and eager in equal measure, which Shadowheart could certainly understand. The foul little beasts had already been contemptible before, and that was before she'd seen several of them injure Sylvanas earlier. "We going to deal with them?"
"More equipment, weapons, gold, and whatever else they might be carrying is worth the effort, I think. And there's supposed to be a significant number of refugees in the area as well, hiding out at a druid grove, so killing some damn greenskins can only help protect them and earn us some goodwill." Sylvanas responded, looking around carefully. "Come on, let's track them down and deal with them quickly, then figure out what it is we're doing from there."
"We should be finding out where this 'Zorru' the teeth-lings spoke of is and questioning him as to the presence of my people. If there is a creche nearby, we can be cleansed of these damnable ghaik tadpoles and be purified." the gith grumbled discontentedly, folding her arms beneath her scarred breasts, and Shadowheart grinned as both Sylvanas and Ciri shook their heads at Lae'zel in response.
"There's only one place he can be, really. He's got to be one of the refugees, which means he's at the druid grove. We're planning on heading there anyway, if only to get you some clothes and look for a healer." Sylvanas spoke first, literally waving away the gith's follow-up before Lae'zel could do more than scowl and open her mouth. "And yes, creche, cure, sure. But an archdruid of a grove is often capable of bringing back the dead, I'd not be surprised if they can do something about these tadpoles. You'd agree that sooner is better, regardless of who does the healing, yes?"
"Besides, if they are in that grove, killing a few goblins will help us make friends, and we need them if we're to save ourselves without plenty of gold to sweeten the request. Never mind the fact that we can't let a group of these little bastards run around unchecked." Ciri added, sounding disgusted by the idea. Hmm. A hero, not unlike Sylvanas, then. Though perhaps less perverse, or at least more subtly perverse than their leader -which is what Sylvanas was, make no mistake- happened to be.
Lae'zel made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a scoff, the kind of noise Shadowheart had already grown to despise in the short time she'd known the gith. A noise that she'd hated from the first moment she'd heard it, deeply and viscerally in a way that made her wonder if it was connected to her sacrificed memories. A noise that said you are all beneath me and yet I must suffer your presence. It was almost enough to make her wish they'd left the wretched thing behind on the nautiloid when it went down.
Almost.
As powerful as Sylvanas was, she wasn't sure that they would have made it out alive without the gith, an admission that brough here no pleasure whatsoever. And she rather doubted that Sylvanas was of the nature to the abandon Lae'zel after they'd fought there way to the bridge, which pleased her no matter how aggravating she found their newest party member.
"Tsk'va! You speak of druids and refugees as though these things matter. The tadpole is the only matter of consequence, and you waste time on goblins and grovelers." Lae'zel's yellow eyes narrowed, flicking over Shadowheart with disdain. "If your Fay-run healers were of any use, this one would have managed to solve the problem already."
"Don't talk about things you don't understand, gith." Shadowheart bit back, feeling a spike of worry that Lae'zel's words will somehow make her lesser in Sylvanas' eyes, that the reminder about her limitations would cause a loss of the affection she had been so greedily drinking in these last few days. "My abilities with healing don't make me a Life Cleric, and those are few and far between outside of the great cities. So keep that wagging tongue of yours where it belongs, behind your teeth, and do as you're told. Or," she grinned, a vicious and cutting thing. "You can run off on your own again. Perhaps you'll run into another goblin trap and end up as their toy, hmm?"
Ohh, but the gith didn't like that, lips peeling back from her teeth as she inhaled to spit fire in response, but whatever it was that she intended to say was silenced by a firm growl from Sylvanas to keep quiet, lest she warn their prey that the group was on their trail. Shadowheart watched her subside into a sullen, defeated silence with a certain degree of triumph, one that not even the look she received from Sylvanas -a look that promised she would be getting a chastisement of her own, in time, a thought that set her tingling and dampening all over again- could diminish.
A few minutes later, the two hunters -predators- were coming to a halt beside a vine-covered, symbol-engraved stone, examining it closely.
"There's a hidden passage here, must be. The tracks lead to this stone, but not away from it. And these are druidic symbols as well." Sylvanas murmured, brushing her fingers over the weathered rock-face, before pressing a spot -one that looked no different from any other- firmly, A sound of stone grinding on stone followed, a disk of rock shifting backwards and rolling aside like a wheel to reveal a clearly man-made tunnel leading beneath the ground. "Hmm. Escape tunnel, I wonder, or something else entirely. Either way, I'll bet the druids will owe us a handsome thanks for killing the goblins before they can attack from inside their defenses. Come along, girls. There's knife work that needs to be done."'
Down they went, weapons at the ready, and Shadowheart grimaced at the sound of her footsteps -and it was only her footsteps, even the damn gith was padding silently along- echoing off of the stone around them. She'd need to get lessons from her lover one how to walk that quietly, or at least as close as it was possible for something as mortal as she, and one without the talents of a rogue or a ranger to give her an extra edge.
It didn't take long for them to find the goblins that they were looking for, chattering excitedly to one another as some of them kicked around the unconscious -but still alive- form of a halfling. One of the druids from the grove, if she were to guess, and from the sounds of things he'd somehow led them straight to this tunnel.
"Ciri and I will take out the two archers on the uppermost ledge, there." Sylvanas whispered softly, gesturing to the two most alert-looking of the bunch, though that wasn't the most difficult bar to reach by any stretch. "Then, the three of you will move into the lower area and be ready for my signal. Once I call out, you attack. Understood?"
There was a chorus of soft agreements, Shadowheart's the most fervent -as it should be-, and the pair of silver-haired supernaturals moved forward, shadows on the wall as they held long daggers held at the ready. Two sets of arms wrapped around two necks, two struggling goblins were dragged back into the shadows, and two blades near-silently slit two throats. The struggles slowed and quickly ceased, and Sylvanas was quick to put an arrow to bow-string as Ciri scuttled back towards them with a wild grin on her face.
"Follow me, girls. Let's get to work." she urged, and Shadowheart grinned tightly in anticipation as she followed her down towards their latest enemies. Within moments, they were carefully hidden and waiting, watching and listening for the moment that they were meant to attack. She heard the first arrow whistle through the air, heard the meaty thud and the choked grunt as it struck home, followed by another, and she waited with a pounding heartbeat for the shout.
When it finally came and she turned the corner, it was to see her lover had once again engaged in close combat with the surviving goblins, and she snarled an invective, hurling herself forward as Ciri and Lae'zel did the same.
The fight that followed was a chaotic one, but far less so -and less dangerous- than their previous fights. Though the number of enemies was greater than it had been previously, so were their own numbers, and as much as Ciri was new and Lae'zel was…ugh, she wasn't so self-absorbed as to say that they weren't deadly in a fight. By the time it was over, each of the group had taken at least a couple of injuries, with Sylvanas -once again- being the worst off. Worse still, she refused to slow down or let herself be healed, having her turn her efforts to the unconscious and battered druid instead.
After all, she claimed, she'd get all the healing that she needed once they reached the grove, at the far end of the tunnel.
Hmph.
Fine then. Sylvanas had earned herself another chastisement, as much as Shadowheart had earned her own not so long ago, but they'd settle that in private tonight. Her sex clenched at the thought, wondering -hoping, expecting, planning- what would happen when that time finally came, as the somewhat-recovered druid staggered to his feet.
"Go…" he paused to take a steadying breath, waving back the way that they had come. "Go around to the front gate. I'll have the guards let you in. The archdruid would have my head if I showed you how to bypass our defenses in this tunnel. You'll be welcomed warmly for this, I swear it."
With a grunt and a wince, the halfling staggered off into the depths of the tunnel, one hand pressed to his ribs. Shadowheart watched him go with a curl of her lip, then turned her attention back to where it belonged: on Sylvanas.
Gods, but the woman was a sight. Blood -mostly not her own, thank Shar, but enough of it was that Shadowheart's fingers itched and her jaw clenched- streaked down one side of her pale face, a dark slash from temple to jaw that the succubus didn't seem to even register. Her own dark, clinging clothing was rent in two places along the ribs, and there was a shallow cut above her left eye that had come damn near to half-blinding her, if only temporarily.
"I'm fine." Sylvanas reassured her, seeing the worry on her face and beckoning her closer so that she could press a kiss to her brow, which had her preening but did very little to settle her concerns. Something Sylvanas was not nearly oblivious enough to miss, and she huffed out a soft laugh. "Seriously, 'Heart, I'm good. Or at least I will be, once we get into the damn grove and get healed up. Then you can yell at me as much as you like, alright?"
"Don't think I won't, idiot. For an archer, you seem to spend an inordinate amount of time throwing yourself head-long into the blades of our enemies." she muttered crossly, reaching up to swipe her thumb along the cut above Sylvanas' eye, just enough to clear away the worst of the smearing blood. The skin was already knitting beneath her touch, that infuriatingly -reassuringly- fast healing of the succubus already making itself known, but it wasn't fast enough for her liking. She had a feeling that it never would be. "You have a bow. Use it. From a distance. Like a proper archer."
"Where's the fun in that?" Sylvanas grinned at her, a wicked thing that flashed sharp canines, and Shadowheart felt that familiar tightening low in her belly, the heat blooming that was an unmissable reminder that she was disgustingly fond of everything about this woman, even if she struggled to decide between slapping her and worshipping her half of the time. This time, she settled for a none-to-gentle shove that set Sylvanas laughing, and as she watched those perfect hips sway away back towards the entrance, she began to plot.
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My 'Heart was up to something, I could tell, but what it was I wasn't sure. Probably something sexy, definitely something that would express her displeasure with some of my life choices, and quite possibly something that would earn me more tickets. All of which sounded nothing short of spectacular to me, of course, even as uncomfortable as I currently was. Though that discomfort was greatly lessened by the sight of the '2/3' next to my Curse. One more fight and I'd finally be able to use all of the tickets that I'd been banking without fear that I'd have to fight the Elder Brain single-handed or something in order to even things out sufficiently.
Fortunately, in addition to some proper healing -I loved my 'Heart, and she did a good job, but by her own admission she was far from being a Life Cleric-, I'd be able to find at least a couple of good fights there. The sirens for one, and the Shadow Druids for another. Though I wasn't sure if the Shadow Druids would count, now that I thought about it. I'd have a lot of allies for that, including -potentially- Kagha herself. Mmh. Best to count on the sirens, then. That certainly hadn't been an easy fight in game, at least not without essentially cheating via mods and other such content.
I mean, sure, I'd modded things so that the fights got tougher based on the number of party members, level, and difficulty far beyond what the base game was capable of…but I'd also given my entire party thirty points in all ability scores. So yes, I had been -and still was, thanks to the Gacha- a filthy fucking cheater. And you know what? I was fine with that. Challenges were all well and good, but if you weren't cheating, you weren't trying, especially when the challenge was putting a stop to the sort of thing that could kill tens of thousands on the conservative end of things.
I wasn't enough of a self-centered prick, or an idiot, as to risk getting countless innocents killed just to give myself a 'good fight' or a 'proper challenge' or whatever nonsense an edgy isekai protaganist would say. I, unlike they, had qualms.
And I, unlike they, was going to get laid. Repeatedly. With a harem that I actually accepted a relationship with, instead of doing 'will they/won't they' nonsense for a dozen seasons and ending on a perpetual cliffhanger.
"Well damn." I said mildly, as we finally arrived outside of the grove's gate. A gate that was open, because a handful of druids and a rather larger number of tiefling refugees were cleaning up the corpses of a couple dozen goblin and goblin-adjacent raiders under the watchful eye of Aradin, his group, and the looters from Withers' temple. Huh. I guess it made sense that encouraging the looters to head to the grove would result in them fending off a larger attack in better shape. Hope Kanon lived.
He was probably fine, right?
I'd told the looters about the nautiloid and the mind flayers, so if the grove and it's defenders had possessed any sense at all, they would have had the gate heavily fortified with healers on standby. And for all their willingness to let the tieflings die horribly and the fact that Kagha was dumb enough -frightened enough, really- to fall for the bullshit by the Cloakwood nutjobs spouted, the druids of Halsin's circle weren't stupid.
Probably. I'd never been entirely sure. Especially since they'd made the tieflings leave anyway? Or something? I'd never come up with a reasonable explanation for why, after the 'good ending' for the grove storyline, the tieflings would not only leave the freshly-cleared area around the nautiloid crash, but try to reach Baldur's Gate in spite of the massive evil army tromping about the road west. Literally any other direction would probably be a safer bet, but no.
"You must be the group that saved Findal. You're welcome to make your way inside, we have an acolyte waiting to escort you to Nettie. She'll patch you up, with our thanks." one of the druids, a man I vaguely recognized from the game as having been one of those doing the Ritual of Thorns, acknowledged our presence without much concern or interest, simply taking note of who we were and waving towards the open gate as he remained focused on his task.
"Appreciated. We'll head right in." I gave him a polite nod that he didn't bother to return, his attention already turning back to the effort of dragging a particularly large goblin corpse onto the growing pile, and led my little entourage through the gate.
The interior of the grove was about what I'd remembered, more or less. Stone steps and natural archways, hanging vines and gnarled tree roots that had been coaxed into structural shapes by druidic magic. The smell of woodsmoke, healing herbs, and the warm, vaguely sweet scent of the cookfires the tieflings had set up further in. Less promisingly, the smell of fear, an all-to-literal scent for the time of being that I now was, and judging by the way Ciri's nose was wrinkling, she could smell it too.
Fortunately, our escort -a young human, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and apparently an orphan taken in by Halsin- was more than happy to tell me anything and everything I could think of asking. All of which was quite useful in figuring out what was going on in the grove and nearby. Halsin was still missing, which would be a problem fairly easily solved, but it looked like I wouldn't have to save Arabella from Kagha's zealous temper.
Evidently, when the various mercenaries and looters had shown up, hollering about nautiloids and mind flayers -and, more importantly, when their claims were subsequently confirmed by some members of the grove Wild Shaped into birds- the druids had decided that having a good portion of their most powerful members trying to perform a long, powerful, thoroughly distracting ritual was a disaster in the making. Immediate and more martial defense of the sanctuary was called for, and so the ritual was temporarily on hold with the Idol of Silvanus under lock and key until it was safe to pull those same druids from the proverbial line.
Which, all things considered, was a far more sensible response than the one I'd been afraid I'd find. Fear had a tendency to make people pretty damn stupid, and the druids' fear of the outside world had been doing exactly that in the original timeline. Apparently, a more immediate, more visceral threat had managed to shake some of the worst of it loose, at least temporarily.
Good. That made my life easier, which was always a welcome development. I had enough to worry about as it was, I didn't need simmering violence between the refugees and the druids over almost-killed children. And it would make me less likely to want to kill the malleable idiot that was Kagha on principle.
At any rate, the question before me was this: what was our priority, after we got patched up by Nettie?
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