Realm of Monsters

Stryg woke up the next morning to the sounds of moaning. He cracked open his lilac eyes, his pupils wide ovals in the early dawn. Ostroz and Srixa were still at it. They both looked tired, but Ostroz refused to stop. Stryg looked over the camp. Most goblins were sleeping still. Bril slept naked on top of Cruvor, save for a blanket that did a bad job of hiding their night activities. Her swollen butt was in clear open view. It was a bright shade of green, evidence of the countless slaps it had received. Stryg had noticed how the two had disappeared last night, he guessed Cruvor didn’t care to hide his actions anymore. Stryg got up, walked a few dozen paces away and began his morning training. His muscles still ached, but he forced them through the familiar moves. He welcomed the pain as it roused him from his sleepiness. 

An hour later the group was fully awake and ready to move out. Ostroz had put Srixa’s shoulders back in place under Srixa’s threat to bust his nuts while he slept. He agreed without any hesitation. It seemed they had a bad relationship, but oddly, they began walking next to each other, Srixa slightly in front, ensuring Ostroz had a good view of her swaying hips. Cruvor was far more transparent with his malicious intentions. He kept slapping Bril’s bottom as they traveled, her whimpers louder than she had wished. Second Mother disapproved, but said nothing.

The next few days passed by without any dangerous encounters. Cruvor claimed it was thanks to his meditation and the moon’s blessing. Stryg wasn’t sure how much the shaman’s meditation helped as someone had already caught Bril giving Cruvor a blowjob during one of his so called meditations. Bril had become quiet these past few days. Submitting to more and more of Cruvor’s bizarre requests. 

Some of the goblins whispered that Bril had become the shaman’s pet, one of the highest forms of submission in goblin culture. Bril was one of the most skilled hunters in the tribe. Stryg couldn’t see her doing such a thing, even for the tribe’s shaman. He suspected she was under constant threat. 

One evening during a break, Cruvor returned from one of his meditations, Bril followed behind him. Her head was bowed, but Stryg noticed Bril constantly wiping her lips. 

Cruvor looked at the group, “We won’t be sleeping tonight. The cave is nearby, and it's best if we enter at night.” 

Stryg felt a sudden rush of fear and excitement. He was excited that they were finally near their destination. But they had yet to face any real difficulty. He hadn’t been able to redeem or prove himself in any way. He had to prove his skill, bravery, and even cruelty in front of the others, otherwise he would be cursed to live in shame for the rest of his life; which would be quite short if First Mother had anything to say about it. 

Stryg was worried as the group broke camp. The trees grew closer to each other while they walked. The red leaves covered what little moonlight reached the ground.

Goblins could see fairly well in the dark, but they still could not see in pitch darkness. Cruvor was forced to make a small orb of fire with his magic. Had the shaman always known they would travel at night? If so, why hadn’t they brought any torches. Probably because the shaman was too focused on screwing Bril, thought Stryg. 

“You’re lagging behind,” Srixa chastised him.

Stryg realized he had been walking slower than the rest. He hurried to catch up. 

“Why are you talking to him? You should be focused on me,” Ostroz spoke as he hugged her towards him.

“Let go of me,” She muttered and pushed him away lightly. 

“Quiet,” said Cruvor, “We’re here.”

The group stopped and raised their spears and bows in anticipation. Cruvor pushed past a few more bushes and led them into a small stone clearing. Stryg was shorter than most and he was in the back, he struggled to see what was ahead. Eventually, the group spread out and Stryg understood what had them so tense. A large opening lay in the floor, the hole’s darkness so deep that not even Cruvor’s flame could penetrate. 

“You first,” Cruvor pointed towards Second Mother.

“But, I can’t see down there. Shouldn’t you go first?” She asked warily.

Cruvor took a step back as if he had been greatly offended, “I’ll be in the back so that I can cast my magic if anything happens.”

“Then why don’t you send Stryg, mother moon’s chosen him right? He should be fine.” Second Mother argued.

“Ah, yes,” Cruvor looked at Stryg. “I almost forgot. Stryg should go first. Lunae, our great mother moon, will protect him.”

Everyone turned towards Strgy expectantly. He eyed the dark chasm, cautiously. He felt anything but safe going down there, but he had to. This was his chance to prove himself. He’d be fine, he told himself, after all, Lunae was watching over him. With slow steps he lowered himself into the cave. His claws gripped the unseen jagged stones as he climbed down. Fear began creeping into his heart as he went deeper into the murky dark. He looked down as he scaled the wall, as if it somehow helped. He didn’t know where to grab onto. He glanced up and saw a small pinprick of light where Cruvor and the rest were waiting on the surface. How far had he descended? 50 feet? 100 feet? He wasn’t sure. His arms were tired and as he looked back down he wasn’t sure how much further he had to go. All around him was pitch black, until it wasn’t. Stryg wasn’t sure what was happening, but the stones around him had suddenly become visible as the darkness slowly receded. He could somehow see down here, despite no source of visible light. 

“Praise Lunae,” he whispered in reverence. She had blessed him with sight when he needed it. The fear that had crept into his heart disappeared as quick as the darkness. He had been chosen for this quest and he would see it through to the end. He looked down and realized there was only about ten feet left before reaching a dolomite floor. He clambered down the last few rock ledges and landed with a soft thud. Two large tunnels sprawled in front of him. He wasn’t sure where to go, but surely Cruvor did. He looked up and called out the rest, assuring them it was safe.

Cruvor looked uncertain, but made the others go down one after another. Eventually, he quenched his fire and climbed down too. 

“Can’t see a damn thing,” Cruvor cursed as he climbed down with utmost care. 

After about twenty minutes, he finally reached the floor. Taking a deep breath he focused his mana and created another orb of flame. He began wheezing as he struggled to keep the flame alight. Cruvor didn’t let anyone know, but it was already taxing to cast the flame once. Twice in a small span of time and after a long climb was pushing his body to its limits. 

“Are you alright?”One of the hunters asked.

“I’m fine!” Cruvor seethed. He waved his makeshift magic torch around to survey the area. 

“Oh, no,” he whispered. This wasn’t what he had heard. There were two tunnels. 

Stryg walked up to him, “Great shaman, which tunnel do we take? Right or left?

Cruvor ignored him. How was he supposed to know which one was correct? This wasn’t part of the plan. He had assumed this would be quick. He’d go in the cave while they slept, grab the treasure and get out. He began to worry that he had underestimated the difficulty of the situation. 

The rest of the goblins looked at him and voiced the same question, “Which way do we go?”

“Shut up and let me think!” he shouted.

“But, what does a little goblin have to think about?” a voice hissed.

Stryg turned to the sound as a blur of red passed by the corner of his eye. Cruvor cried out in pain as his body smashed into the wall behind him, his bones cracking from the force. The small flame in his hand sputtered out of existence. The group shouted in fear as they began swinging their spears blindly, hoping to hit the enemy in the dark. 

“I was sleeping so comfortably too. Did you think you could act so loud in our home? Well, at least you brought food. I do love goblin flesh,” the unseen voice mocked.

The hunters shouted various war cries, most to the affect of ‘fuck you’ or the like as they thrust their spears into the dark. Stryg stood still, however. His voice caught in his throat. He was the only one who could see. The only one who saw the monster creep out from the tunnel. Her long wine hair draped across her snow pale face. Orbs of jet black framed around her crimson eyes. A long forked tongue flicked out of her mouth, tasting the air. Stryg’s eyes looked past her naked upper body, a red serpentine tail grew past her waist, and slithered across the floor. 

The lamia smiled as she watched her prey flail in the darkness. She whipped her tail, smashing two more goblins to the wall. The muscles in her tail practically hummed with strength as she flung her tail with enough force to shatter their bones. She circled them in delight, picking one off at a time. She wrapped her tail around one of their feet and yanked, sending their heads cracking into the floor. She’d drag some away, sinking her fangs in their necks. She loved the way they spasmed as the venom burned their insides. 

Bril screamed as the lamia dragged her away. She tried to stab the monster, but despite her skill, it was almost impossible to hit a target she couldn’t see. The lamia wrapped her serpentine body around the struggling goblin tightly. She smiled as Bril’s bones cracked beneath the pressure. The lamia released the dead goblin and moved to her next victim, listening to the vibrations resounding off the cave walls.

While the rest swung their spears in hysteria, one goblin stood still in fear. The lamia smiled, she loved easy prey. She glided towards him with a silent grace. She couldn’t quite place why, but he seemed a bit different than the rest. Perhaps he tasted better. She unhinged her jaw and opened her gaping maw. 

Stryg’s heart raced as he watched the lamia move closer. He had just seen this monster murder half the group with ease. He didn’t stand a chance, but he had one advantage. She hadn’t realized that he could see her. He gripped his spear as she moved closer, her obscenely large mouth slowly reaching towards his neck. He lunged forward, his spear plunging right through her own neck. She lashed backwards, a gurgling scream trying to escape her lips. Her body writhed on the ground as she clutched at the spear lodged in her throat. 

“I-I did it. I actually killed it!” Stryg ran his shaking hands through his hair. He had slain the monster! He had redeemed himself. The moon’s blessing saved him.

“What!? Is it dead?” Someone called out.

“Really?” Another voice answered.

“Who killed it?” Srixa asked.

“I’m alive!” Ostroz shouted.

Voices called out back and forth in relief and uncertainty. But one voice pierced through the group. 

“Where is the shaman!” Second Mother shouted. 

The goblins stuck out their hands as they tried searching for him in vain.