== VORTEX QUEST 5-12 ==
== POWERLESS ==
The defiled sanctuary hadn't become particularly hectic but it was getting difficult to keep the alliance of Nephilim, Aelves and demigods secret enough to avoid retaliation.
Luckily, they wouldn't have to wait much longer. With the Hexers shattered, several Reaper factions had too good an opportunity for expansion to waste time scraping together human souls -- Champion Slyell'Pvan would run out of reserves within a Ring Cycle -- less than a week.
In the meantime, the pantheon was fucking in their quarters until they were too drained to make even basic conversation.
Of course, Xane could have kept going -- he had a disembodied telekinetic all-purpose limb at his disposal -- but even for him there was a point where sex became too much of a chore. Especially since they'd all gotten addicted to crushing their own balls now.
The thaum-mage rubbed his regrown mohawk and noticed Chay's eyes on him, dashing from his face to his crotch.
"Still gay?" Xane asked with a grin.
"Barely," Chay said, "as far as I can tell. Although crushing on my friends was nice."
"Yeah," Marcus added. "Not right now but... maybe we can get flipped again."
Chay glanced at Xane's crotch a second time. "Still cursed?"
"Barely," Xane echoed. He had cum dripping from his aegis. Far more than the precum his insatiable horniness caused but nowhere near as much as the Wraith's curse had made him shoot. He wiped a drop off his ballsack and magicked it away.
Goro grunted and let a fountain of cum erupt from his aegis, creamy ropes splashing onto his abs and thighs.
Chay rubbed his own regrown buzz cut. "Any ideas about my next style?"
"Ugh," Xane made. "Sorry, dude, I can't use brain power right now. If you want anything more elaborate than 'Xane was here' you'll have to wait till I'm recharged."
Chay stared ahead, then sat up and scooted closer. "Fuck it, I'm joining the mohawk crew. No offense but I always thought it looks kinda... Not stupid, just tryhard?"
"Seriously," Marcus said and sat up on his elbows. "You ought to give the bitch a cock-and-ball haircut for that."
"Agreed," Xane said, "but I'll play nice."
"You know what," Chay said and leaned away from Xane's hands. "Actually... no, fuck it. I'm not here to impress chicks." He leaned into Xane's grasp. "Fuck me up, Xee."
As the wizard began to evaporate select hairs down to the scalp, Shadowhand entered.
The Aerodrake was wearing a more 'angelic' outfit these days, serving as prime messenger and herald of the Nephil, silver-trimmed white robes hanging off his smooth, shiny scales, flowing over the bulges of his muscles.
"I have a message."
"From?" Chay asked, not turning his head so Xane could keep working.
"Difficult to say. One of Slyell'Pvan's many opponents, who has information about the palace's defenses and layout."
Goro huffed. "Where's the catch?"
"They want a meeting," Shadowhand said, "at their discretion. The abominable bar in Bi'in Vvegra-Waaa, at Top Notch."
'Top Notch', also known as Ringspan Zenith, was the abyss version of noon, referring to the largest mark on the inner time ring. First time meetings were commonly scheduled this way. Xane left the decision up to Chay, of course.
"Okay then," the leader said. "A meeting in public. We better put on our fancy suits."
Xane gave Chay's head a slap. He was done with the masterpiece. A buzzed mohawk in the shape of a large erection, seemingly ready to jizz onto Chay's forehead, a pair of balls halfway down the back of the head. Lines of slightly longer hair even gave the impression of veins in the right light.
Xane summoned a mirroring surface and watched Chay fall totally silent, stonefaced.
At last the leader shrugged. "It's what I ordered. Good job, Xee. What does the jury think?"
Goro gave a thumbs up, grinning wider than Xane had ever seen him do.
Marcus gave a slow clap. "Masterful Mohawk."
"Mocock," Xane said.
"Or cockhawk?" Marcus offered. "I like 'cockhawk'."
Shadowhand nodded and said, "Daring."
Xane wasn't sure how to take that, but hey, he wasn't the one running around with a mocock now.
"Before I forget," Shadowhand said and reached into his robes. "The slave shortage has caused a nectar overproduction in turn." He retrieved a bota bag. "Here's a sample."
The scent of gay demonic fucking reached Xane's nostrils and his eyes rolled back into his head. They should kill humans more often if this was what it got them.
===***===
This side of Hiwinymb had gotten quieter, with the lack of shades to feed barge turbines and industrial machinery. But every so often, a major war or magic cataclysm caused scarcity, so to most abyss dwellers this wasn't unprecedented.
Like all towns big enough to have multiple districts, Bi'in Vvegra-Waaa was fairly segregated by species with a 'multicultural' focal point. At the edge between the Lich borough and the Kobold quarters was a nameless, unmarked abominable bar -- a place of respite for the chimeras and misfits, creatures created by demonic experiments, magic gone awry, profound curses and unexplained phenomena.
Even in a place like this, plain old humans could have been an odd enough sight to provoke questions, though, especially with the slave shortages.
So the pantheon showed up in basic sandy-brown robes and elaborate illusions.
Xane's skin was iridescent like an oil film, his eyes pure white, two tails poking from his loose clothing.
Marcus had been turned pale pink, his mohawk a deep magenta, a unicorn horn on his forehead. He'd protested at first but accepted the treatment.
Chay had a huge scar where his eyes had been, a large eyeball on a stem growing from his head instead, the 'cockhawk' underneath more illusory scar tissue. Making sure Chay could still see had been tricky but worth it, even if the leader had overruled Xane's 'mocock' terminology.
