Eldritch Quest part.04

   “You wish for the gem of forging?” says the tiny old man floating in the air whose body trails off a ghostly wisp.

 

   Dorkaring had traveled far to come here, following the compass up the mountain, past the blue ice caves filled with ice and cold-flame based fiends and three or four weird ice themed puzzles that really made no sense as any melting would have made them impossible.

 

 

   “Well,” says the old spirit in his crackling voice his white whiskers brushing about as he speaks, “I will give you the gem, but only in exchange for an item of equal worth.”

 

   He rubs his grubby little hand through the thick beard that shows no sign of having a chin, or even a real face beneath the also bushy brows and hair before snapping his fingers, “of course, if you can bring me the golden scroll, yes…”

 

  He crosses his tiny arms and nods his fuzzy head, “the Golden Scroll which holds the secret of turning lead into gold you see. You must go beyond the river Falkmii where the dreaded water nymph guards passage and climb the mountain of Falkuuh. Atop this forested mountain you will find a rocky clearing, here resides the Golden Harpy, a dreadful immortal demon beast. If you can pin the creature in a contest of strength it will reward you with the Golden Scroll. Take heart this has not happened in three thousand years.”

 

   “Uh,” says Dorkaring, “if it happened…then isn’t the scroll gone?”

 

  “What?!” exclaims the spirit, “no you daft fool! The Golden Harpy pens the scrolls, but only one at a time.”

 

   Dorkaring scratches his head, “So, why don’t I just catch the harpy and make her make me scrolls?”

 

   The spirit shakes his head, “Don’t be a smart-ass lad, she’s immortal, totally unkillable, and with crazy magic powers…like teleportation…you little smart-ass…you challenge her to a contest of STRENGTH as she is proud of her strength you see. But challenge her to magic or try to act like a real threat and she’ll smoke your smug ass with a Mystic Destoyer spell faster than you can blink!”

 

   “Fine Fine,” says Dorkaring a moment before he hits his own chest with his fist, “I am proud of my strength too! I the great Dorkaring will bring back the scroll from the harpy!”

 

     ******

 

   The River Falkmii which surrounds the mountain Falkuuh like a moat. It however barely qualifies as a river in most places, barely a stream at two feet deep and six feet across. As Dorkaring approaches the river the water churns and rises in the shape of a young woman wearing a robe. This is the true danger of Falkmii, the water nymphs, said to drag a man down and drown him.

 

 

  The elemental silently stares at Dorkaring as he rubs his chin and surveys the scene, planting his sword into the ground he announces, “A shame you are so set to fight me, the mighty Dorkaring, prince of this land, and son of a dragon! For if you were more amicable I’d gladly lay with such a gorgeous thing as yourself!”

 

  A sly smile  spreads over the clear liquid face of the nymph as her body ripples, the appearance of clothes gone, now a lithe nude, albeit made of water, woman. Dorkaring takes up his and approaches the water, however the nymph backs away, her arms over her chest and looking away like a frightened young woman. Dorkaring smiles and throws his sword down, and disrobes, his well endowed manliness drawing the attention of the maiden of water.

 

   She nearly comes from the water’s edge, eager for him as he steps into the stream. No sooner are his feet wet than she is on him. Her warm waters flowing over his body, her hands each a tiny massaging stream of fingers over his chest, her tongue a snake of water licking over his jaw, neck, chest, nipples, abdomen, as she makes her way down. As she moves down, her arms wrap around his torso, as do numerous water tendrils about his body and legs coaxing him into deeper waters. As she descends upon his prick wrapping her mouth and tongue around him like a thousand tiny whirlpools of pleasure she coaxes him down.

 

  Dorkaring lies back into the stream, only his head above water as the water nymph continues her liquid massaging of his member. Her hands are rubbing up and down on his waist and upper legs, stronger on the down stroke than the up stroke. Her sucking grows more eager, angrier, as does her massages. Dorkaring’s head remains above water, his body going no deeper or further down the river as his mighty hands are grasps onto two boulders. He looks down at the woman, water amidst water, a glimmering silver blue of gorgeous form attending aggressively to his dick. He ejaculates into what passes for the mouth of this elemental creature. His sperm swallowed into her currents of a body.

 

  She slides up his chest, her look of anger changing to one of predatory cunning, “brave warrior, pray you return the favor.”

 

  “With my head below water?” asks Dorkaring, “sorry, I can not.”

 

  She pauses a moment, “then a kiss my lover?”

 

  “So you can drown me with your waters?” asks Dorkaring, “I think not!”

 

  He pulls himself free of the elemental’s grasp with a mighty heave, his body ripping through the river bed in a manner that would cut up a lesser man. He stand in waist deep water, crouches down, and leaps free of the river back beside his sword and clothes. He redresses as the water nymph watches angrily, pacing back and forth. He ties his sword into its sheath surprising the nymph, backs up a few paces and leaps high into the water. Watery tendrils lunge up missing the bottoms of his feet as he clear the river far on the other side.

 

   The Water Nymph shrieks, “Fine then! I may not have your flesh to feed our young, but know this hero, your seed shall birth a thousand monsters in the sea!”

 

  With that she vanishes into the water rushing down the branch of the river heading towards the sea.

 

  “You were very clever, and strong.” Comes a woman’s voice from the treeline.

 

  From behind a nearby red wooded tree a woman emerges, blond hair tied up in a high bun, and wearing a white robe.

 

  “Who are you?” asks Dorkaring.

 

  “I am the lady of the woods,” says the woman, “I keep track of those who would come here, to face the Golden Harpy who dwells upon the top of the mountain; so few lacking magic powers or some strange device have ever even gotten pass the water nymphs before. Your method was…different, such a strong verile man.”

 

  She rubs her breasts against his body and her hands on his chest, one moving down to his pants.

 

 “You just came,” she said, “and yet you are eager again, brave warrior, give me your seed and I will give to you the tool that will get you pass the Golden Harpy to her secret scroll.”

 

  Dorkaring smiles, “sure,”

 

 No sooner does he speak than he is shoved onto his back upon the ground, a strength no human could ever have. Her clothes are gone, his pants also, his legs feel a slight burn from the superhuman speed this woman is moving. She is upon him, pinning him down, his dick set firmly inside her. It is not like the inside of any woman he has ever lain with, he can feel something in the wetness wrapping around him, swirling like a whirl pool, closest thing being the mouth of the water nymph. Her downward thrusts are strong, crushing his ass into the dirt. Her body changes as they fuck, her skin becomes green. She stops thrusting her body yet her insides continue to pump on him. Her body forms bark over her skin, her feet and legs root to the ground. He goes to reach up but roots shoot up from the ground around his arms and torso.

 

 

  She speaks through mouth unmoving, “You will father the treants and dryads of my forest, they will be strong brave warrior and your flesh will feed our seeds.”

 

  With a mighty *HRAAH!* Dorkaring rips free of the vines and grabs the bark skinned woman as he stands. She is frightened as he slams her into a tree, his dick still embedded inside her.

 

  “Hah, hah, hah” he yells in rythem as he continues to fuck the surprised dryad. She wraps her legs around his thrusting ass, tempted to seal them together, but frightened into not doing it by his strength.

 

   He backs off the tree and spins her around backwards on his cock her leg nearly kicking him in the face in the process, fucking her in an air born doggy style holding her aloft with his hands on her bark covered waist. The dryad has never been fucked like this before, and excusing some tentacles in her past not to deeply either. She yells out as her sappy juices shoot all over Dorkaring’s waist. Exhausted the dryad can’t fight anymore as Dorkaring pulls free. He casually walks over the river to wash his sappy dick off, not fearing any water nymphs who may remain in this part of the river.

 

  The dryad stands, exhausted, her moss like hair a mess, salivating from pleasure. As Dorkaring walks past she pants, “don’t you want your prize…brave and verile warrior?”

 

  “I just got it,” he says with a smug smile.

 

  She smiles and reaches not so much into but through a nearby tree as though it weren’t real, retrieving a small purple bottle with a violet stopper.

 

  “Dryads cannot lie,” she says, “your reward is this, the Ambrosia of the Nymphs. This will be required to retrieve the scroll you seek.”

 

  He takes the potion and continues on his way.

 

  “Wow,” says the Dryad when he is out of sight, “Best fuck in ages.”

 

  She *eeps* as an invisible shapely hand cups her breast, a strong yet slender arm and large breasts holding her from behind, “Was our deal not for you give him the potion once he bested the water nymph?”

 

  The words from the invisible lips are like honey to the Dryad, “Y..yes…mistress, I…I saw…”

 

  “and best fuck in ages?” says the woman’s voice.

 

  “I…mmph” the dryad’s lips are encased by soft invisible lips as she is dragged into the bushes by the invisible presence.

 

     ******

 

   As Dorkaring makes his way up the mountain he hears a howl like a woman’s orgasmic scream mixed with the sound of the wind, a mighty breeze even shoots up the mountain from below around him. He thinks nothing of it as a moment later he is fighting off a two headed reptilian bear with a snake for a tail.

 

    His travel up the mountain is filled with many such fights with weird animals, treants, and something like a log with two skinny arms and a child’s drawing for a face wearing a red hat with white trims and white puff ball on the tip that craps flaming gift boxes at him that explode.

 

  It is not what he expected, he expected a garden, some trees, or maybe a house. What he did not expect was a barren arid spot atop this forested mountain with boulders, a giant dead tree, and a cave with a blackness inside that is certainly not natural. Atop the tree is she, the Golden Harpy. A creature with the lower body of a bird of prey save for light golden feathers, metallic golden talons, and the tail of a bird. Her waist is certainly of a human proportion and she has a golden skinned human torso with no sense of shame, not that clothing would make much sense seeing as her arms are giant golden wings with talon claws at the bend. Her face is off, eyes too large and nose too small for any woman he would be familiar with, her hair is short and spiky, made of ruffled yellow feathers.

 

   “Golden Harpy,” yells up Dorkaring, “I have come for the golden scroll. I have bested the water nymph, that tree woman thing, and your mountain of monsters, now give me that secret forge scroll you have!”

 

   “Such a cheeky human,” says the Golden Harpy, “They were not a test of mine, merely creatures that gather around my magic. If you want my scroll you must best me or pen me in a demonstration of strength!”

 

  *wamp!* Dorkaring is flung into the rocks, he never even saw her coming. She is floating, barely needing to flap her wings where he had been standing.

 

  “Golden Wave!” she yells as she swings her wing, releasing a rolling wave of golden energy across the ground.

 

 

  Dorkaring leaps over the wave, pulling out his sword in mid-air. As he lands he tries to swing at the Harpy, however she grabs the blade with her wing claw and snaps it in two.

 

   “Oh…shit,” says Dorkaring as he reaches in his pockets trying to find something as he backs up, pulling out the purple bottle, and remembering the dryad’s words. As he pulls the cork free he looks up and nearly jumps as the Golden Harpy had been right in his face in that moment. The smell from the body makes the feathered woman purr like a cat and her head swing back and forth.

 

  She licks her lips, her eyes glazed over in lust as she looks at the bottle. Dorkaring doesn’t get it as he sniffs the bottle, it doesn’t really smell like anything to him. He dabs a little on his finger. No sooner does he do that then she lunges on him, taking his finger in her mouth and seductively licking his finger clean.

 

  He raises and eyebrow and splashes a bit on her chest. She howls and with her long prehensile tongue and pushing her breasts up with her claws tries to lick it off. Dorkaring smiles as he takes his own shirt off and splashes a little on his chest. The Harpy is on him in a second, wrapping her wings around him, and rubbing their oily scented bodies together. She massages the scent into both their skins with her chest working her way down. As she removes his pants with her surprisingly dexterous claws, she licks her lips. She brings her breasts up around his shaft, massaging the oil around it with her womanly mounds. He pours the rest of the concoction on his shaft. She takes his dick into her mouth with her long tongue wrapping around like a snake with its prey. She sucks earnestly on his shaft while titty fucking him to full release.

 

  The scent must get to him as he starts to doze off, waking to find himself on his back with the Golden Harpy riding him, with her thrusts and excited wing flaps he is a bit surprised she didn’t drag him into the air while fucking his drugged out body. Spent the Golden Harpy lies down and licks around his jaw line.

 

  “Uh,” says Dorkaring trying to get up, he trips and falls on top of the Golden Harpy, pinning her down.

 

  She *purrs* and looks up at him, a strange look comes over her, a look of realization as a ghostly music plays from nowhere. The black cave lights up and the golden scroll emerges, floating over to him.

 

  The Golden Harpy shrugs and rubs her abdomen, “I have a fair prize myself dragon born mortal. Take your scroll and leave.” She gives him an evil look, “least the Nymph’s Ambrosia wear off completely and I devour your devious hide.”

 

  Dorkaring needs no more encouragement, this seductress is strong, and his sword is broken. As proud as he is of his strength, he is not so foolish as to not recognize that he needs to work on his speed as well.

 

     ******

 

   Halfway down the mountain the scroll glows and flies into the air before him, opening of its own accord. A ghost in golden glittering light appears like a projection from the scroll’s surface, a tiny white bearded dwarf of a man.

 

  In an ancient voice the ghost speaks, “Hero who has passed the test of the Golden Harpy, you now must choose between the two prizes. Either the knowledge of how to turn lead into gold, or the gem of Forging choose now or…”

 

   “Gem of Forging,” says Dorkaring without pause or care, “that is what I, the great and mighty Dorkaring came for.”

 

   “Very well,” says the ghost manifesting the gem the scroll and floating it over to Dorkaring, “then the scroll will return to the Golden Harpy’s den to await the next challenger. Farewell hero.”