Vortex Quest B. 01

== VORTEX QUEST 1-7 ==

== CHAMPION 1: BEFORE THE THRONE ==

Chay had enjoyed a surprisingly refreshing slumber considering the holy spire had no way to turn off the light.

Upon waking, his first thought was to jerk off, driven by ravenous lust. While his mind still struggled with "where am I?" his hands already found his bare crotch, cupped his low hanging balls and touched the aegis.

"Oh shit," Chay mumbled, fighting his eyes open as he realized it had all been real. They were demigods, fighting the abyss.

Xane was sitting against an ornament-riddled pillar, legs apart and bent, fondling his nipples, eyes half closed.

"Morning," Chay said.

"Hey," Xane said and lowered his hands.

"No, keep going," Chay said with a grin. "I was enjoying the show, hehe. Is that how you jerk off now?"

Xane rubbed and squeezed his muscle-bulging thighs as he straightened his legs. "I spent the last half hour tonguing my own crack, if I'm honest. I play with my nips for a minute, rest a minute, play a minute... Keep the high going higher."

Marcus stepped from around a pillar. "Share the love?"

Xane grunted, sighed and brought his legs together. "Fine, Mister 'No Touching'. Spread it for daddy."

Marcus arched his back, legs apart, but took care to point his hole away from the others. He shuddered as Xane's phantom tongue lapped his sweaty ass while his fingers went to his nipples.

The thaum-mage himself watched his two butterflies twirl as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him.

"Man," Chay said, rising. "It's weird not having morning routines. No breakfast, no picking out clothes, no jizzing down the shower drain. Where's our big dude?"

"Right here," Goro said and jumped in through an arch from the misty outside. He carried a struggling mutated cherub-imp.

Pie, the cat-faced smoke-snake followed him in.

"She loves playing catch," the immense, Japanese bodybuilder said, his shoulder-long hair neatly tied upward.

"She?" Chay asked. "Fine, might as well have a chick in the group."

Goro tossed the imp and Pie spiraled through the air after it. Chay shot a few little clouds into the air with his fan and blew them up into hoops. The four muscle-packed, naked demigods spent the morning getting a workout teaching Pie to jump through smoke-hoops - in as far as a free-floating 'cake' can jump -- and to stop trying to eat Xane's butterflies and to bring a thrown imp back.

Marcus had the most experiences with cats, Goro had grown up with several animals and Chay's family had a dog. Pie was a faster leaner than any would have expected. She was spookily smart.

Working out this way was embarrassingly erotic. Chay had never felt horniness like this outside his dickhead, but the sensation had spread into his legs, abs, and - humiliatingly -- glutes, which made each jiggle of muscle a little masturbatory.

He elected not to broach the topic.

===***===

Gallant showed up with a Wyvern.

The six-winged serpent as long as a subway train and half as thick as one, was silvery-gray up close but blended into the surrounding with mimicry-scales. Its face looked like a mix between fish and wolf.

The pantheon met the Nephil just outside the fog. Pie joined them, flitting between their legs like a smoke-comet.

Gallant stared with curiosity. "Is that a Naggthid, transmuted by celestial vapor?"

Chay shrugged. "Couldn't tell you."

The golden titan nodded. "High Champion Unnv'Hrailoth is interested in a meeting at his fortress. But first, there was something among the gifts I want you to have."

Chay had half a mind to ask if they could drink the fallen angel's cum again but his weakpoint-sense could tell their ally was exhausted. He also sensed Marcus about to ask since the lean-muscled martial artist with his restlessness was most affected by their addiction.

He signaled Marcus to keep it down.

Gallant produced a thin ring from his robes, astonishingly simple considering it was from the holy spire.

"There is a panel inside each holy spire," Gallant said. "If you insert this signet I should be able to communicate with you from any one of god's torpedoes if you stumble across more."

Chay slipped the ring onto his right middle finger where it fit best. It was barely noticeable.

The fundoshi-clad demigods mounted the Wyvern after some more debate when Pie dashed excitedly between them.

"I'm afraid you gotta stay here, old girl," Chay said. "We'll visit."

Pie swirled around his wrist, insistent on... something.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Gallant said, slowly. "The signet should be able to accumulate some holy vapor. Since nobody here is able to control the mist I didn't think to..."

Chay unfolded his fan and let Pie's head rest on the paper. The cat-snake seeped through the folds, draining herself into the angelic ring.

"Oh shit," Marcus said. "She's picked you as a new home, hehe. Daddy Chay with the 'cake'."

Chay looked at the ring. "You okay in there?"

A puff of smoke slipped from the ring -- a tiny cat paw -- and retreated.

Goro, who sat right behind Chay, put his arm on the umbralist's shoulder. "She's still *our* pet, okay?"

"Uh, sure. Not like I have adoption paperwork."

With Pie stored away, Gallant took off and the Wyvern followed. The pantheon was shoved together on the serpent's twisting body, basically sitting in each other's laps, slick back on slick abs. Chay felt his fairly beefy thighs annoyingly dwarfed by Goro's sheer mass.

===***===

The flight was nerve-wracking. Wyverns didn't come with any safety features or even convenient places to grab onto, so the men stayed on by squeezing their mighty legs together and balancing with divine power.

The view was as spectacular as expected. Kobold villages, vark herds, ectoplasm-falls, as many rock-skulls as you could ever want. Chay didn't even have to risk the nauseating look down since so much of Jheyr'Udd was vertical along rock walls and impossibly large stalagmites.

Two major bends later and they were in sight of a fortress as brutish as Nash's but thrice the size, set high into a cliff wall. The aurora shimmered in deep orange far above.

The Wyvern set down on a black metal platform and the men slid off, with thighs sore from fearful clamping.

Several natural arches lead up to the gate of Hrailoth's fortress, guarded by two Hellions in bulky, studded armor who stepped aside as Gallant approached.

A corridor with a vaulted ceiling supported by rugged pillars lead deeper inside. Chandeliers held orbs seeming to shine with harsh electric light. Blood red banners demanded obedience to the champion. Hellions stood guard between the pillars. Gnomes rolled or hopped along the walls, carrying plates.

Chay analyzed everything. Most skullheaded warriors were inattentive, or didn't carry much armor. A bowl of oil was unsecured near a brazier. A flock of nesting imps high up the pillars could be agitated with just a rock throw.

They passed a gate of double-layered Elderite, a highly durable, dark material. Runes glinted as the demigods stepped over the threshold. Chay needed to learn more about those.

"Slaves," Marcus whispered.

Two fit men were scrubbing the floor. A white guy with millimeter-long black hair on his head and a bald middle eastern one with broad shoulders. They had to be in their twenties. Neither had a single hair on their bodies. Their dicks were enviably free, flopping side to side as they scrubbed.

Strangely both had what seemed like a fresh tattoo -- a black ring around the neck. Chay was sure that mark was a weakness, he just couldn't tell in what way.

They stepped onto red carpet, walked up stairs and entered the throne room lit by braziers and 'electric' orbs on sconces.

Gallant stayed back, leaving Chay to take the lead.

Dark black stone, red fabric, gold skulls and piles of hexagonal coins. Four Hellions stood guard at between the gaudy displays of wealth, armored head to toe, with organic golden chest pieces that seemed cast right onto their bodies -- expensive mold-mail.

Hrailoth sat on a throne of red silk and immense iron spires atop a foundation of stone skulls fitted like bricks. Beside him were tables filled with cadaver parts and bowls of worms.

The Daemon would have been about nine feet standing up. His skin was deep red, his bat wings folded. He was jacked as fuck, rivaling humanity's broadest, thickest bodybuilders in proportion, with veins like a rock-hard erection all over his body. He wore a huge belt and long loincloth studded with gold. Mold-mail filigree rose from it, emphasizing his abs and thighs. More gold dangled on his huge nipple rings.

He had four horns, two twisting like snail shells on the sides of his head, two pointing up from his forehead. A black flame flickered between the latter - royal power bestowed by the realm's god-like king.

A pet rested beside him -- a massive, blue striped hound with tentacles for a lower body.

"Man," Xane whispered. "Why is everyone in the abyss shredded like a cunt? I bet he's never lifted a day in his life."

"Shush," Goro made.

There was a slave next to the throne, a long ankle chain keeping him there. Light brown skin, bald and hunky of course, with a cut semi. A black ring was tattooed around his neck. He stared in shock at the free humans.

Hrailoth's voice was as demonic as expected -- so deep it registered more as thunder than speech. The words vibrated into Chay's head more than they were heard.

"So you little slaves think you've been sent by the heavens to defend your little realm, huh? You don't seem like much."

Chay kept his face blank. A Daemon respected power. "We're demigods, avatars of the divine. Already we've slain titanic monsters, Drakes, lisk nests and breached the holy spire. Let us demonstrate. One, two, three!"

The pantheon pulled their fundoshi down to the knees. Godly radiance from four crotches tinted the chamber white.

Hrailoth shielded his face and hissed, which came out like a rumble.

His tentacle-dog pet let out a bark. Abominations such as this animal-chimera, Chay had learned, were created by demonic experiments, magic gone awry, profound curses and even some unexplained natural phenomena. This one was probably some highly specialized bodyguard.

The demigods covered their aegises again and the Daemon grinned. A bunch of Gnomes formed a fuzzy pyramid to tip a jug and refill Hrailoth's goblet with pale green beer. Other Gnomes pulled his empty plate away and served more raw, moldy steak.

"What..." The slave by the foot of the throne was speaking. Arabic, as Chay noticed thanks to his divine gift of language.

The champion opened a jug and poured a drop of golden honey on the ground. The slave dug his face in. The paradoxical smell of nectar drifted their way. Chay felt his friends get antsy just like himself. The craving was dizzying.

He couldn't give in to this power play.

The demon lord folded his hands. "I see. You may speak the truth, little slaves. How do you enjoy getting twisted and perverted by the abyss, huh? Driven by hunger to feast on corpses and worms? Stuck by the desire to tear into your friends' delicious flesh with bare teeth?"

The umbralist suppressed a smirk. The Daemon was running with false assumptions.

"We get by," Chay said.

Hrailoth rammed his goblet down, splattering a Gnome into gray goop. "To make things quick, it would serve me well if the vortex project failed. Lord Mashmorg'uokh would fall in the King's esteem and my faction would rise in turn. In order to do stop the votex you'll need my half of the key stone. The other half belongs to Lord Rvebnar, a subordinate of Mashmorg. His territory borders mine. I know where that keystone half is hidden but you'd have to retrieve it."

"We're confident," Chay said, feeling anything but.

"Not so fast," Hrailoth said, drawing out the words. "I can't have you run around with sensitive information if I'm not sure you can succeed. Just a little test. Shouldn't take long."

Chay looked between his companions. "We're ready."

Hrailoth rose to his full, incredible height and led them to the side of the chamber. Hellions dashed aside. The chimera pet followed beside him in perfect silence.

The wall's stones rolled away and revealed a private corridor. Torch-light flickered on. The major demon walked ahead, his tail swaying gently. The muscles of his back, legs and barely covered glutes trembled hypnotically with every step.

Chay felt a poke in the side from the animus-fighter. "Huh?"

Marcus smirked. "And I thought *you* had a nice ass. I guess 'Rai' spends all day squatting."

The pantheon followed the demon to a courtyard balcony going all the way around a rough square in the middle of the fortress. The courtyard below was no longer than a bowling alley. Its floor was littered with bones and skulls -- some could have been human. There were three exits in the rugged walls, barred with spiked iron grates.

Hellions and Kobolds began appearing on the balcony from different parts of the fortress, joined by other creatures -- upright chimeras, a few Fiends in togas, tall figures in robes with abstract masks for faces.

Chay looked over the balustrade of skull-topped stone pillars.

In a corner right underneath them was a Wraith, pitch black arms visible under the wheel-cap-like disk. Chay was getting convinced the disk was part of a Wraith's body, like the shell of a turtle.

"That's my former lieutenant," Hrailoth said. "A traitor who sold information to my enemies. A traitor's fate at this court is to be eaten by my crocs. Unfortunately it was *his* duty to keep them fed, so they won't attack him yet. I could wait until they hunger but..."

"You want us to kill a measly Wraith?" Chay said with a mostly-genuine grin. "Done."

The Daemon bared his fangs. "Good."

More people showed up to watch. Hellions out of armor now, two green Drakes with blood smeared mouths, even some slaves who all had pentagrams on their hairless foreheads and a black ring tattoo around their necks.

Champion Hrailoth raised his muscled-bulging arms, wings flaring. "Let the show begin."