Master's Journey: Tales to Astound! #7

Author's Note: Time to get things... a-happenin'.

[story] [combat/gore] [doublecock...?]

_______________________________

At the question,‭ ‬you find yourself shuffling awkwardly,‭ ‬folding your arms across your now-exposed breasts.‭ ‬You struggle not to squirm when the gaze of one of three phyragians flickers in your direction,‭ ‬as now,‭ ‬after your pact with Shie,‭ ‬you have a good sense of what they’re looking at.‭ “‬The trees,‭” ‬you finally say,‭ ‬nodding at the expedition about to move out and slipping to the side,‭ ‬close to the road but not so close as to be readily visible by an approaching party.

‭“‬Have it your way‭!” ‬Ozrik chuckles,‭ ‬steadying himself on the back of the massive pack beast and preparing to get it moving forward.‭ ‬Shie,‭ ‬you notice,‭ ‬slips from view on the opposite side of the road,‭ ‬apparently opting for a flanking position in the jungle.‭ ‬Kinna slings her longbow around her back and keeps close,‭ ‬walking behind Abamu and slightly to the side to avoid the lumbering creature’s unpredictable...‭ ‬leavings.‭ ‬With your positions situated,‭ ‬Ozrik digs one booted heel into the massive beast’s flank,‭ ‬drawing a low,‭ ‬crooning bugle‭ ‬--‭ ‬not unlike an enormous elk‭ ‬--‭ ‬before starting to shuffle its squat legs forward along the roughly-worked road.

The four of you progress for some time,‭ ‬the sky darkening only slightly as the Brother takes reign of the heavens.‭ ‬Having eaten,‭ ‬drunk,‭ ‬and even cleaned yourself,‭ ‬you find your refreshed body thanking you for the light exercise‭ ‬--‭ ‬the simple motion of walking and weaving between trees and under dangling vines and bright pink flowers keeping you limber and working out the stiffness of your‭ “‬death‭” ‬at sea.‭ ‬The phyragians speak only seldom,‭ ‬occasionally making sure those hidden in the jungle remain safe,‭ ‬or exchanging short jokes and stories.‭ ‬A few comments are even made in a language of which you understand very little,‭ ‬the northerners‭’ ‬tongue having always seemed a bit difficult to digest for you.

After the passage of what may be four or five hours,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬the terrain has changed almost not at all,‭ ‬the path you follow only becoming marginally more worked.‭ ‬Night is beginning to fall as the Blue Prince’s glow becomes slowly swallowed at the other edge of the world,‭ ‬a wash of hazy,‭ ‬golden-pink light beginning to dot the treelines from another angle altogether.‭ ‬Light enough to navigate,‭ ‬but...‭ ‬only barely.‭ ‬Of far greater note than the darkness are the sudden sounds of growling--‭ ‬or is it hissing...‭?

You’ve barely drawn your strange,‭ ‬bronze blade from the makeshift hoop in your loincloth when you start to see them.‭ ‬Like great cats they prowl,‭ ‬and just as large as the biggest you’ve seen in circuses back home.‭ ‬These creatures,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬share as much with serpents as they do with beasts,‭ ‬their bodies unusually long and sinuous,‭ ‬so much so that a third pair of legs positioned in front of their hind ones help them cruise along the jungle floor toward the phyrai hunters.‭ ‬Their snouts are long,‭ ‬ears laid flat against the top of the head,‭ ‬eyes slitted and burning like fiery green embers.‭ ‬Coats of scales of dark,‭ ‬mottled brown shroud them like armor,‭ ‬slashed across with stripes of white not at all unlike a tiger,‭ ‬and their tails are far longer and thicker than a cat,‭ ‬as if true extensions of their deadly bodies.

Surely,‭ ‬the things you look at now are not mere animals,‭ ‬but monsters,‭ ‬devils from whatever abyss purged this foul island from its roiling black gut.‭ ‬You backpedal a step,‭ ‬holding the exotic,‭ ‬curved sword in front of you as the creatures descend upon Abamu and the hunters,‭ ‬Ozrik barely having time to dismount and grab his massive handaxe before being beset by the things,‭ ‬hissing and gnashing their huge jaws.‭ ‬You count three,‭ ‬then spot a fourth‭ ‬--‭ ‬then a fifth,‭ ‬this one skulking out of the jungle and pouncing towards you with wicked claws extended,‭ ‬teeth storming forward.

You stumble back,‭ ‬heart racing in your chest as you lash out with the blade Shie gave you‭ ‬--‭ ‬two quick swipes,‭ ‬one forward,‭ ‬one back,‭ ‬a frenzied,‭ ‬desperate attempt to defend yourself.‭ ‬The first forward slash is evaded by the creature,‭ ‬which wheels its serpentine figure around you to attack from behind,‭ ‬but as your arm rears back to attempt to strike where it had been,‭ ‬you hear a hard thud and wet sound.‭ ‬Whirling around to face the thing again,‭ ‬you see it recoiling with a snarl,‭ ‬blood trickling from the edge of its scalp,‭ ‬and you notice that the back-swept tip of your khopesh is dotted with the same liquid.‭ ‬It seems that the weapon’s unusual shape,‭ ‬in conjunction with your lack of experience with it,‭ ‬allowed you to land an accidental blow against it.

Inexperience or not,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬you know to press your advantage,‭ ‬however brief it might be,‭ ‬and let out a husky wail as your blood boils in your veins.‭ ‬You lunge into the creature,‭ ‬slamming down with the sloped,‭ ‬jagged inner-edge of your sword and chopping into its neck,‭ ‬sending it staggering back a few more short steps.‭ ‬Its entire body tensed,‭ ‬claws extending as it darts forward,‭ ‬again more like a serpent’s strike than a cat’s pounce.‭ ‬Its attack,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬brings it colliding into yet another swing of your blade,‭ ‬and it lends its own momentum to the impact‭ ‬--‭ ‬sending your sword cleaving through its snout and jaw and drawing a thick,‭ ‬gorey cleft through the side-center of its face.‭ ‬Another pained hiss and it shoots past you,‭ ‬curling up onto the jungle floor to writhe out the last instants of its life.

You watch it for a moment,‭ ‬breathing hard,‭ ‬and turn your attention to the phyragians,‭ ‬still in the middle of battle with their own horrors,‭ ‬though difficult to see through the panicked,‭ ‬rearing form of Abamu.‭ ‬You barely make it another step forward before being pounced from behind,‭ ‬your sword falling from your grasp.‭ ‬Scaly paws clutch your shoulders and pin you down as another one of the creatures begins to wind its dry,‭ ‬sinuous body around yours,‭ ‬binding,‭ ‬squeezing.‭ ‬Even more pressing is the sensation of warmth and moisture against your leg,‭ ‬and as you struggle you reach your weapon you glance down‭ ‬--‭ ‬spotting not one,‭ ‬but two long,‭ ‬ridged pink penises extending from the monster’s underbelly,‭ ‬prodding into your skin.‭ ‬A deep,‭ ‬threatening purr rumbles out from the beast,‭ ‬vibrating against your flesh,‭ ‬and you start to wonder how exactly to deal with this....

A‭)‬ Try to reach your sword and attack.

B)‬ Attempt to spread your legs apart,‭ ‬letting the creature use its two members on you.

C‭)‬ Wiggle downwards and attempt to use your mouth and/or chest to satisfy the beast.

D‭)‬ Other‭ (‬comment‭)