Her mana flowed down her arm to collect in the quartz, building in pressure. The tunnel-turned-fissure had deposited Elestrea on a rocky outcropping a little over halfway up the steep slope of the cavern's walls. From her position, she had a clear line of sight to the three aberrations facing off against Erelei. She could also see the ranger staggering defiantly, her weapon hand limp and dagger on the floor next to a mangled elven body.
The last syllable of the invocation accompanied the final line of the glowing symbol in the air, and the compressed mana was released. A boom reverberated through the cavern, leaving her ears ringing, as an arc of lightning chained from Elestrea's position on the wall to the three grotesque figures below. All three crumpled, smoke rising from their bodies.
Not wasting any time, the princess tucked away the quartz crystal, exchanging it for her length of dwarven rope, which she promptly fastened to the ledge with a cantrip. With the safety line secured, she half-ran, half-slid down the incline and then sprinted across the cavern floor to Erelei.
The elf lay unmoving on the stone, and for a heart-wrenching second, Elestrea feared she was too late. A faint pulse indicated that her soldier was still alive, though, and the princess breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Aside from some light lacerations on her forearm
—
the corresponding vambrace conspicuously missing
—
a quick check showed no signs of injury.
Erelei's companion was not so lucky. Fedris lay in a pool of blood, the muted greens and browns of his uniform stained a deep maroon. His right thigh had been almost completely stripped of flesh, pinkish-white bone exposed to the cool cave air, and the connecting calf hadn't fared much better. The leather and metal of his cuisse and greave lay in a shredded mess to the side. Dried foam coated his lips, pointing to an unkind death even before his mauling. As expected, Elestrea was unable to detect any vital signs from the exsanguinated ranger, and took a moment to say her goodbyes to the elf before turning her attention back to Erelei.
Though her pulse was still weak, it seemed stable; a good start. Unfortunately, Elestrea had no means to aid in her recovery. She was not versed in healing spells, and even if the malady was arcane in nature, a counterspell required knowledge of exactly what sort of magic was being countered. As frustrating as it was, all she could do was try to make her charge comfortable and hope she woke up soon. Huffing in exertion, she carried the unconscious elf to the far side of the cavern, finding a flat space by the slope she had come from.
The princess took a moment to steel herself before moving back over to the body of the slain Fedris. Though elves did not obsess over their dead like humans, it was never easy losing someone you had known for decades or even centuries.
Fedris had been a part of the elven rangers long before Elestrea had been assigned as captain
—
long before Elestrea had even been born. The princess's worries over her subordinates resenting such a young commanding officer who had arguably attained her position through nepotism were dashed by the easy-going veteran. He had taken the time to introduce her to each member of the elite troop, breaking the ice with food and drink and ridiculous tales.
Over the decade since she had assumed her captaincy, his impish sense of humor had, on more than a few occasions, earned him disciplinary action. Yet he had always been a source of stability and steadfastness when the situation called for it. Elestrea had grown to deeply respect the warrior, and she would miss the energy and comfort his presence brought.
Working quickly, she gathered his belt pouches to one side. A bandolier with additional bags joined them, along with a dagger, a map, a tinderbox, and a length of dwarven rope the same as her own. The rope was soaked in blood, but it was too precious a resource to leave behind. Likewise, most of the belt pouches were stained a dark red. She would need to go through each one and salvage what she could.
It took less time than she expected. The waterproof nature of the bags had protected their contents, and Elestrea ended up only having to toss one satchel that hadn't been fastened closed. Spell reagents filled the belt pouches, though many were different from the princess's, while the bandolier turned out to be stuffed with food. Nuts and dried berries, wedges of dried fruit, and several different kinds of jerky were crammed into the containers arrayed on the sling.
Elestrea snorted. "Even now, you're as reliable as ever, Fedris," she smiled fondly, ensuring that the bags were all properly resealed before placing them by Erelei. The additional food would extend their life expectancy by almost a week.
Supplies secured, she scanned the battlefield, counting nine abominations. That meant that the two elves had downed six of the monstrosities before her arrival. It was likely that Fedris had fallen early, caught off guard by whichever horror had poisoned him, putting Erelei on the back foot and forcing her to protect both herself and her comrade.
Each monster was unique, from number and type of limbs to overall mass to whether or not they were even bipedal. So far, she hadn't really witnessed much in the way of offensive capability, but the dead Fedris and unconscious Erelei were a testament that they were, in fact, dangerous.
The rangers of the White Stag banner numbered among the most prestigious fighting forces of the world alongside the Silver Retinue, led by her mother the Queen. One of her soldiers alone could hold against a pack of ghouls outnumbered 5-to-1; a pair could handily face down twice that number. The average elven warrior would be hard pressed in a 3-on-1 scenario.
She paused in front of an aberration distinctly different from the others. It was obviously a quadruped, with thick, muscled arms and short legs that looked laughably miniscule in comparison. The blood-covered head seemed like a macabre mockery of an unbloomed flower, one of its petals loosened slightly in death to expose countless hooked teeth.
Elestrea frowned. She could see scraps of meat stuck in the maw, most likely from the dead ranger's leg, but more importantly, she also noticed traces of mutilated leather and steel. Looking more closely, she noticed that the metal was in slivers rather than fractured pieces, and she realized that the wicked serrations had actually cut through the steel like a planer shaving wood. She was suddenly very glad that she hadn't tried using her sword
—
let alone her bare hands
—
to pry open the creature's mouth.
The next abomination looked decidedly more humanoid. If not for the inhumanly long tongue lolling out of its mouth, she might have guessed it to be a particularly bloated zombie. As she knelt down to examine the appendage, the slimy muscle squirmed and twisted to point at her face. A toothed orifice opened, and before she could react, she was sprayed in ichor, the foul gunk getting in her mouth.
Elestrea backpedaled, wiping at her eyes and retching as she drew her sword. But the expected onslaught didn't follow. The zombie-like monster remained unresponsive and its oral organ dropped inert to the ground, seemingly spent.
Eyeing the nearby corpses suspiciously, the elf took a moment to compose herself, noticing belatedly that the viscous sludge didn't taste as foul as she had imagined it would. Rather, it was sweet, with undertones of a warm spice, reminding her of an infused honey. Her tongue tingled pleasantly, and almost subconsciously, she licked her lips, drawing more of the strangely delicious goop into her mouth. A finger collected more of the scum from her cheek to savor.
When the princess came to her senses, her face was clean, shiny traces on her skin the only remaining evidence of the slime. She shook her head to clear the haze from her mind, trying to recall what she was doing.
Her gaze fell on the lamprey-like appendage and she remembered it reacting to her presence, lunging at her. Neither the tongue nor the abomination it was attached to gave any indication of life, lying just as still as all the other carcasses.
Frowning, Elestrea sheathed her sword, deciding that further examination of the creatures was too risky, especially alone as she was. If her mana could afford it, she would burn all these corpses to ash, just to be safe, but such an action would put her dangerously close to running on empty. She still didn't know where these abominations had come from, and if there were more nearby, she wanted more options than just her sword.
Returning to Erelei, she checked the ranger's vitals again. Her pulse was slightly stronger than before, and Elestrea could now feel the moist air of her breath when she placed her finger under the elf's nose. A wave of relief washed over her at the discovery. There was a very good chance the young soldier would regain consciousness in a day or two at this rate.
With nothing left to do, she pulled out one of her ration bars and settled down to keep watch.
=====
She turned the corner to find herself face to face with the aberration. An extra pair of arms extended out from a too-thin ribcage, and both sets of upper limbs, disproportionately long, rested their malformed hands on the floor. Wet, sallow skin stretched sickeningly tight over a disfigured body, oozing black ichor from open sores.
Reacting instantly, Elestrea drew her sword into Unfolding the Fan as she stepped back to give herself room, only to pause in confusion with her blade halfway out of its sheath. She recognized this series of events, this monster; she had already killed it before.
Sensing the opportunity, the creature lunged forward, stretching out its two top arms with surprising speed to grab at the elf. Her muscles responded automatically, leveraging her blade to remove one of the offending hands from its limb. Unexpectedly, her weapon was slapped away, leaving her open to the follow-up attack.
A whirlwind moment later, the princess was pinned against the rough stone wall, face pushed into the rock and hands held above her by an unyielding grip. Barely able to reach the floor with her toes, she could do little but flail her legs ineffectively.
The abomination began pawing at her with its remaining arms, and Elestrea allowed herself a small sigh of relief. It didn't seem intelligent enough to be able to figure out the system of clasps and ties that held her armor together, and it seemed not to have the ability to penetrate her defenses more violently. Perhaps it would lose interest if she played dead
—
Her deliberations were disrupted by loud tearing sounds as her spaulders were ripped away, the steel lames quickly followed by her cuirass. Her leather jerkin and linen shirt joined the growing pile on the ground, and Elestrea was treated to the cool, moist air of the caves against her skin. One more jerk and her breasts were likewise exposed, nipples swiftly hardening into diamond points as they dragged against the chilly rock wall.
The hands returned, this time directly contacting soft, elven skin, and the princess gritted her teeth, preparing for the pain to come. Instead, thin fingers spidered across her back as if mapping out the contours of her slim form before flattening down to allow the room temperature flesh of their palms to join them. Mouth-like orifices opened up, and Elestrea gasped in surprise as little licks and nips teased her body. Her squirming only served to stimulate her nipples against the stone, sending signals of pleasure straight to her rapidly moistening womanhood.
She growled, refusing to acknowledge the luxurious sensations being forced upon her. Uncaring of her internal struggle, the hands wandered up her sides, then back down to her belly, sucking, nibbling, and licking the entire way, leaving a trail of inky scum shining across her body. Slowly, tauntingly, they meandered toward her breasts, settling just shy of her nipples to cradle the perky mounds, all the while bathing the undersides of her firm slopes in sinful delight.
Skeletal, dextrous fingers joined the fray, flicking over her sensitive buds to draw out a frustrated growl. Her traitorous pussy was fully wet now, and Elestrea couldn't help but wonder for a moment what it would feel like when the miniature mouths finally reached her nipples.
The grip on her head melted away, and a moment later, her lower garments were torn off. The evidence of her arousal, slick against her thighs, showed clearly in the light of her cantrip. A light pinch to her nipples made her insides flutter as the third hand ran possessively up a leg, introducing her inner thigh to the licks and nibbles as well. As it approached her drooling slit, it slowed down, denying her the gratification she knew it promised. The hands above continued toying with her breasts, rolling her teats between their fingers before disengaging to run light rings around her areola. They too withheld the bliss they could gift her.
Resting her forehead against the cool stone, Elestrea fought to deny the pleasure threatening to overrule reason. Her will teetered on the brink of shattering; her body had already surrendered and was begging for more.
