Fabulae de Summis Absurdis, Initium Narrationis

The vicious black void snarls in anger at the menacingly sinister nothing while the wind howls in desperation. Anguished cries of sorrowful misery can be heard as invisible onlookers lament the disastrous developments. Nobody looks on in silent disapproval, then chuckles loudly at the utter futility of the unfolding non-event. A second nobody, its featureless nonexistent face expressing unexplainable rage, observes from below, exasperated at its own determined inaction.

"You won this round. Until the next one", the Noling conceded, resiliently accepting defeat. He was bested by the Noid this time. But next time it would be different. Then he departed, leaving the Noid to savor her victory.

Descending into a dark hole, the Noling chuckled, reveling in the predictability of its deception. The Noid believed she had won. She always did. That was the game -- a victory hollowed out before it could ever solidify. This time, she would gloat -- but the unraveling had already begun.

Though he was irritated that, after thousands of years engaged in similar contests, his triumph still seemed a long way off. But he was incredibly patient. Only a few thousand more years and he would gain control of this realm, an indeterminate level of Hell. Of this he was confident.

Flames blazed, growing more intense as he continued to descend. Upon reaching his pit of despair, the Noling noticed a dark shadow awaiting him, one of his minions.

"A disturbance seeks your audience, my liege", the amorphous shadow whispered, bowing in silent dread.

The Noling reprimanded his subordinate. Why did he not handle this annoyance instead of bothering him with it?

Though it turned out this was a matter that was deserving of his attention.


Potens Magus Tenebris, otherwise known as Haraldus the Arcane Crafter knelt before an iniquitous altar, his shrine to the Noling.

"Hear me, master of misery and woe! I kneel before your altar in supplication. I implore thee, grant me your favor once more!"

A candle flickered out and the fire in the mantle faltered, then roared back to life, the flames crackling and leaping high. A shade coalesced in the corner, its form drifting with an unsettling weightlessness toward the wizard.

Haraldus immediately recognized the being as a avatar of The Noling, a faceless cowled figure, partially pellucid.

"You are one of my most promising makers of mischief and sower of sorrows, but your constant summonings grow tiresome, Haraldus", the Noling avatar remarked, obviously irritated.

Haraldus swallowed hard, his hands beginning to tremble. The spectral presence of his dark master seemed to drink the warmth from the room. He dared not breathe too loudly, lest the annoyance in the Noling's throat manifest into wrath.

"I beg your forgiveness, oh powerful one", Harladus said, apologizing. Then he remembered. "I have an offering for you, oh great Noiling".

The wizard retrieved a small cage from a table nearby. Then he placed it upon the altar and removed a sheet that covered it. A sleepy porcine squonk, disturbed by the loss of its shroud, trembled violently. The air grew heavy with its despair, the dim light seeming to weaken. Its quivering mass of sorrow twitched, yowling in fright.

"Quiet, you!" Haraldus commanded, rapping the cage with his gnarled wizard's staff. He regarded the squonk with disgust. The creature's loose and sloughing skin was covered in hundreds of granular warts which cracked and bled. As well as pustules oozing a sickly gray slime.

"I, Haraldus Potens Magus Tenebris, in an act of mercy, will now put this pathetic creature out of its misery. Though I shall first inflict some more".

The shade indicated its agreement as Haraldus slid his ceremonial murder dagger from its sheath. He quickly stuck it in the squonk's body numerous times, causing green goo to spurt from the wounds. This went on for a while before the creature, howling in pain, expired.

"Normally, this hideous creature would have dissolved into tears. In sheer embarrassment at its grotesque appearance. But this magical cage, which I constructed, prevented such a cowardly escape".

Haraldus straightened, awaiting gasps of awe or words of admiration -- but none came. That was odd. He cleared his throat nervously, his unease growing. The Noling did not seem impressed.

Then, as Haraldus shifted from foot to foot, waiting for a reaction from The Noling avatar, a gurgling escaped the lips of the not yet dead squonk as it finally expired. As Haraldus and the Noling avatar looked on, a ghostly apparition of a squonk materialized and began to gently float toward the ceiling of the wizard's arcane laboratory, possibly ascending to a higher plane of existence.

A deep, wet pull suddenly filled the air, the pressure shifting unnaturally. Haraldus winced as his ears popped. The spectral squonk looked exceedingly distraught as it veered off course, drifting horizontally instead of vertically. Then its succulent soul was siphoned into the Noling's open maw. It disappeared into the dark cowl and was gone.

"I thank thee for the delightful nourishment. The souls of the innocent provide appreciable sustenance. I shall consider granting your request, depending on what it might be".

Haraldus sighed in relief. "Over here", he said, directing the Noling avatar to a nearby workspace.

A shriveled and gray severed humanoid hand with elongated claws lay on the table.

"This is the hand of the demon Mirabile Malum. As legend has it, the severed hand of the renowned shaitan was crafted into The Manus Infortunii, otherwise known as The Hand of Misfortune".

"I came by this exquisite artifact by way of an old Tzigane woman. She suspected what it was, but due to its current condition, was eager to offload it at a very reasonable price".

Haraldus and The Noiling regarded the lifeless hand. The wizard poked it with a finger, as if to prove it was indeed unanimated and would not suddenly spring to life.

Now the Noiling seemed genuinely impressed. "The Manus Infortunii has been thought lost for nigh 200 of your mortal years. This is truly an exceptional discovery".

Haraldus beamed with pride, pleased that his Pater Nefandus was so seemingly thrilled with his discovery.

"According to the Tzigane woman, the hand was deanimated in a magical battle between two extraordinary wizards, one of which wielded the hand. She went on to claim she purchased it at an estate sale held by the clueless relatives of the vanquished wizard. After he collected the hand and fled in terror upon his defeat. It is said that, despite his best efforts, he was never able to revive the hand".

"I shall grant you this blessing", the Noling declared, its voice a whisper curling through the air like smoke. As it rubbed invisible hands together, foul vapors condensed into gnarled talons, which the avatar raised, tracing sinister sigils that shimmered with a malignant glow.

Haraldus felt the surge of dark energy percolating through the space -- an unseen force pressing against his chest.

The hand twitched. The lifeless grayness dwindled, vitality flooding back into the shriveled flesh. Black scales, slick and gleaming, emerged under the pale light of the eternal lanterns hanging from the rafters.

Suddenly, the appendage flipped, blackened nail tips scraping against the tabletop in a skittering motion -- an insectile, unnatural thing. It darted forward, only to slam into the magical barrier Haraldus had placed earlier. A violent recoil, as if it had received a powerful electric shock.

Haraldus watched, transfixed, his pulse quickening. At last. Months of failure, of fruitless toil, and now -- this. He had resurrected the Manus Infortunii. He would record this later in his journals as one of his greatest triumphs, a testament to his perseverance and genius.

Granted, restoring such a powerful relic had required divine intervention, but it was he who had initiated that intervention, the one who had cultivated the necessary relationship with the dark entity. Without his mastery, without his foresight, this moment would never have come to pass.

Now, to find the perfect victim to pawn the hand off onto. He dare not hold onto it too long himself, lest the curse affect him. Then he smiled. As it just so happened, he had been in communication via whisperglass earlier this very week with the perfect dupe.

Haraldus laughed heartily.

The Noiling, who was expecting profound appreciation, was taken aback. "What amuses you, veneficus?"

"I have a fool in mind. A wizard named Inconcinnus Fatuus. I have an appointment to meet with him presently. He wishes to purchase a riftplank I recently restored and will be traveling here to complete the purchase later this week".

"Ah, a victim is already lined up", The Noiling nodded approvingly. "I look forward to observing what transpires. The misfortunes inflicted by the Manus Infortunii are legendary. I doubt I will be disappointed by the mayhem that ensues".

Notation: The Latin phrase "Fabulae de Summis Absurdis" roughly translates to "Tales of the Greatest Absurdities" or "Stories of Supreme Absurdities". "Initium Narrationis" translates as "The Beginning of the Narrative". The text at the top of this post is what I entered at the Microsoft Designer website and which produced the image.

 swtd445. absurd-1.  Previous. Next.

MAGA Guy's Unexpected Underworld Arrival

Sweet dreams are made of these... cute demonic red-furred and horned cat-imps, dancing and laughing, guffawing, chuckling and chortling. A great celebration was taking place. The cat-imps, or catturds, were overwhelmed with joy. The cause for their celebration? donald trump had been elected to a second term.

Spawned by the fevered dreams of conspiracy theorist Phillip Buchanan, the catturds materialized from the demented delusions of his defective brain. Far beneath the surface of the earth, or perhaps in an alternate plane of existence, an audible pop signaled the birth of a new demonic catturd imp.

During this specific Buchanan nighttime paranoia-fueled phantasmagoric unconscious fantasy (an ecstatic nightmare of conspiratorial vindication) hundreds of new catturd imps were hallucinated into existence. They splashed and played gleefully in the flowing magma. The red-hot liquid rock casting ethereal shadows that illuminated the underworld environment.

Meanwhile, on earth's surface, the family of Bob Smith mourned his passing 30 days previously. His family, which was bigly MAGA, would have preferred to be celebrating instead of attending the funeral of their beloved MAGA kin.

Bob's wife wailed in existential misery. Then she realized that things might not be so bad. donald trump, the anointed warrior of Christian civilization, was president again.

She smiled briefly, thinking of the misery that would be inflicted on her enemies at the hands of the triumphant champion of God-fearing moral Whites around the United States. It was time to take our country back from the Godless liberal queers that threatened society. She stepped to the podium and spoke.

"Bob would want us to go on", she announced as she adjusted the microphone and continued her eulogy. "Bob, as you all know, was mega MAGA. With the election of donald trump, our country is on the verge of a revitalization. donald trump's righteous hand will cleanse this nation of all who seek to defile it. The vile liberal queers that have perverted Christian civilization will be crushed by God's chosen leader. There will be so much winning, but we will not ever get sick of it".

She went on from there. When she finished the crowd sprung to their feet and cheered. Today would not be a day of mourning, but a day to celebrate the life of Bob Smith. A righteous and God-fearing man who was now with the Lord and in his loving embrace. The living could take solace in that fact. As well as the fact that donald trump was re-elected and the cackling hyena, Kamala Harris, was defeated.

Mary Smith's grief became jubilation. Or something close to it. She would grieve her husband, but she could see herself moving forward -- and with great anticipation of the good works donald trump would soon embark on. All which would restore America's greatness.

Two hours later the uplifted bereaved departed, leaving the widow alone with her husband's closed casket. Closed due to the nature of his injuries. She shuttered, remembering the day she identified the body. It was the same day Mary Smith and her husband Bob attended TurdStock: October 6, 2024.

The blissfully unaware couple were enjoying themselves. Playing pin the tail on the demonic donkey, throwing tennis balls to sink the dementia-addled Joe Biden (stand-in), plunging him into the dunk tank. Also eating various foodstuffs the overpriced vendors were selling. Among other state fair themed activities.

Then it happened. The event that changed her life forever.

"I'm in the mood for some tangerine cotton candy. I think they call it the Trump Swirl", Mary said, her eyes lighting up when she saw the booth. The vendor spun a cone of orange and pink delight. He handed it to her and Bob paid. As they walked, laughing and enjoying the day, suddenly Bob stepped into an unseen pothole and tripped. Stumbling forward, Bob collided with a wall of cotton candy sugar-mix canisters. The towering monolith of sugar-mix trembled, then collapsed, burying Bob.

Mary was about to laugh at Bob's misfortune when she realized something was terribly wrong. A bright crimson liquid flowed from beneath the pile of heavy canisters. Other TurdStock attendees quickly pitched in to remove the barrels, but it was too late. A particularly heavy barrel clearly crushed her husband's body. When they were moved a mangled and unmoving corpse was revealed.

Mary started sobbing. Bob, seeing his grief stricken wife, attempted to console her. Though, to his utter bewilderment, she did not seem to hear him. Then he noticed a swirling black void that tore into existence beside his broken corpse.

"My body?" Bob whispered, his voice filled with dread. A cold recognition settled in -- he wasn't just injured, his life had been snuffed out in an instant. All his dreams for the future, suddenly dashed. Plans such as following up with that sexy waitress he ogled the last time Mary and he had dined at the All-American Bar and Grill.

Bob had considered returning solo at a later date. He imagined he might romance her by grabbing her by her privates. If she let him, then he would know she would be down for a roll in the hay. If not? He'd have written it off as a failed pass. Now he would never know.

He turned back to the dark gateway. It seemed to call to him, drawing him toward it. "That must be the portal to paradise", Bob surmised. Feeling his confusion and fear melt away, Bob advanced toward the doorway to the afterlife. He would miss his wife, but eternity waited. And he was eager to meet his maker, who would probably thank him.

"Thank you for your unwavering support of my chosen leader", God would tell him. "You are one of my most loyal servants and will be richly rewarded". Bob imagined God shaking his hand and congratulating him. "You did not fall prey to the liberal lies. You were tested and passed with flying colors, my child". Then God would usher Bob into the promised land.

Bob cast one final wistful glance at his wife. Then he strode confidently toward the portal. "Be a man, Bob!" he told himself. Despite his confidence that soon he would be embraced by eternal bliss, he was slightly afraid. Given that he was about to step into the unknown.

Yes, he knew that God would be very pleased with how Bob had conducted his life; he hated the right people, which were the enemies of the Almighty. And he placed his resolute and unwavering faith in donald trump. But still...

Everlasting life, a perfected communion with God, and a renewed body. All this and more. Bob had no doubt. Having reassured himself and pushing his fears aside, Bob departed the mortal realm. He stepped into darkness and was instantly whisked away.

After traveling along a dark tunnel, flying at an exceedingly high speed through the windless air for an indeterminate amount of time, Bob was ejected into a black void. He fell and fell, but ended up, to his surprise, touching down lightly.

"This isn't what I expected Heaven to look like", Bob remarked. Stumbling in the dark, he walked toward a light he saw in the distance that burned fiery red. It was quite hot, Bob discovered, starting to sweat.

Finally he reached a heavy iron gate. A man short of stature stepped from the shadows and opened it, then ushered him in. Smiling broadly the mustachioed man declared, "a very, very warm welcome to you, Edward Endo. You may call me Maga Mike".

"Hello Mike", Bob replied, feeling almost welcome. "The name is Bob, btw. You were expecting someone else?"

Reconsidering his answer, Bob clarified, "Bob Johannes Smith. And it's just Bob not Robert. That is as per my birth certificate".

Bob waited, wondering how the man who wore a sharp burgundy suit would respond to his very precise answer. Mike was an unusual looking fellow. His skin was scaled and crimson red. He had horns which sprouted from his head. And, from his rear, a long tail grew that was tipped with a spade.

Then he noticed that Mike wore a red MAGA baseball cap, almost identical to his own. A brother in arms, Bob could clearly see Mike was. Despite his odd appearance.

Mike produced a clipboard and checked it. "You aren't Edward Tsutomu Endo AKA Mystere?"

Bob shook his head no and Mike double-checked. "Ah, yes. Bob Johannes Smith and not Edward Tsutomu Endo. You are correct. Edward isn't scheduled to arrive until later".

A short distance away, magma flowed. Playing in the molten lava, Bob saw horned red cats, so cute and so fury they demanded to be cuddled. That's what he concluded when one approached him, purring.

Suddenly it leapt on him with extended claws, latching onto his chest and swiping at his face as sharp claws pierced the fabric of his jacket. Bob screamed in pain when his eye was ripped out and ended up dangling from its socket.

Bob grabbed the cat, pulling it off him. Then he dropped it and punted the critter with his boot. The feline let out a horrific howl and went flying, disappearing into the darkness.

Worried about his eye, Bob gingerly touched his face.

"Push it back in", Mike proposed.

When Bob failed to act Mike approached him and, with a black-nailed red hand, quickly pushed Bob's eye back into his cranium.

Surprisingly Bob felt no pain. He concluded he must be in shock. Yet, only a few moments later, he found his vision in that eye had returned.

"Amazing!" Bob exclaimed. "By the glory of God I am healed!"

"When do I get to meet God?" He hoped the wait would not be too long.

"1000 years from now. Possibly sooner", Mike replied. Noting the look of extreme disappointment on Bob's face he added, "don't worry. Remember, time flies when you're having fun".

The reassurance lifted Bob's spirits. Cosmically speaking, 1000 years wasn't that long. Not compared to eternity.

He took out his iPhone and started filming. "I'm going to post this to TikTok", Bob announced as he panned his camera, taking in the vastness of the endlessly immense cavern.

Bob tried to upload his video, but quickly realized there was no Wi-Fi. Thinking about it, this made sense, though Bob couldn't help but be disappointed.

"Your catturd has returned", Maga Mike said, clearing his throat to get Bob's attention.

Bob lowered his phone, then noticed the cute red cat that had just attacked him was back. "What do you mean?" Bob asked. "I want nothing more to do with that thing. It is quite cute, but extremely violent".

"This is your forever buddy", Mike declared. "Well, for as long as you are here, at least. Like I said earlier, somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 hundred to a thousand years. Then you get to meet the ruler of this domain and be judged. In the meantime you can consider this an extended spa vacation".

Bob eyed the cat with suspicion. But, when it started purring, Bob's heart melted. "I must have startled the little guy. I'm willing to give this forever buddy thing another shot".

Then the catturd snarled viciously, spitting as it launched itself into the air, sinking its razor sharp teeth into Bob's throat, tearing out his adam's apple.

 swtd-444. polfi-28.  Previous. Next.

Buddy Bunny Plots Murder At Midnight

Buddy Bunny slunk in and out of the shadows. The moon was high in the heavens and the stars shone brightly. He was careful to not be spotted as he stalked his prey -- Pulchellus, the impossibly cute gold dragon.

Buddy's heart hardened. He reached inside his sweatshirt's kangaroo pocket, feeling around for his pocket pistol.

"You will die tonight", Buddy whispered as his eyes narrowed. He had been assured this would do the trick, given that Pulchellus had recently molted his scales, a part of the normal dragon growth process.

Stalking him for months, looking for a weakness, suddenly it became clear. That was the day Buddy saw the normally scaled dragon completely lacking them.

With scales a dragon is nearly invulnerable. Without them? He should be able to pull it off.

"Lawful Good, my fluffy bunny tail", Buddy scoffed.

Then he remembered his tail was gone. As were his ears and whiskers. The painful memories flooded back. That horrible day when flames consumed his burrow, the conflagration nearly burning him alive. Unfortunately he lived. Though numerous members of his fluffle perished, incinerated in an instant.

While convalescing in the hospital burn unit, he saw a news report that shocked him. The nurse flipped on the TV and left the room. As a morphine drip eased his pain, an Enchanted Forest News Tonight reporter cheerfully related the story of a dragon fire-breathing contest that, previously unbeknownst to him, took place near his warren.

Then he saw the footage that clearly incriminated the culprit -- Pulchellus, the world-famous, impossibly cute gold dragon, star of the eponymous TV show, Pulchellus: The Impossibly Cute Gold Dragon.

Buddy Bunny, rising from the flowers, a lone figure of vengeance, drew his weapon and fired.

Hearing a pop, Pulchellus turned.

"Owe!" the surprised dragon exclaimed as the bullet pierced his breast. "That hurt!"

Pulchellus looked down and saw a spot of sunlit plasma (dragon blood) on his favorite T-shirt. "Why did you do that?" he inquired as he poked the hole.

"You are a strange looking chap", the befuddled dragon remarked as he dug out the bullet and flicked it away. "That wasn't very nice". His scowl deepened as he traced the bullet hole with one claw. "Ruined. This was my favorite shirt. I got this at the DragonStock festival last year".

Buddy's jaw dropped. The wizard he purchased the Dragonbane bullet from was positive it would work. Even though his low caliber pea-shooter could not possibly penetrate dragon scale. But with no scales? Pulchellus should be dead.

Buddy let out a strangled cry of defeat. "You may as well finish me off!" the earless coney wailed.

"What do you mean? You assaulted me". The dragon blinked at him, utterly baffled. This little dude might be off his rocker. Perhaps he was an obsessed fan?

"Hey, man, I'll give you a pass this time, but I better never see you again". Then he left. Pulchellus had to be on the set tomorrow bright and early and didn't have time to waste with this weird little dude.

As the dragon departed Buddy regained his composure. This wasn't over. He would reassess and formulate a new plan. He found the Dragonbane bullet on the ground and picked it up. First thing tomorrow he'd hop over to the Wizard's shop and demand a full refund. Obviously it was defective.

 swtd-443. ant-3.  Previous. Next.

Dervish Sanders Eats Faerie Faighin

The midday sun filtered through the canopy above, scattering dappled light across the forest floor.

Without warning, darkness fell over the wood, swallowing the light. It was as if night had arrived unbidden, despite the morning hour. Glancing upward, Dervish saw that Sunne was almost completely eclipsed by Mōna. A chill ran through him; surely, this was an ill omen.

As swiftly as the darkness descended, it dissipated. Then, mere seconds later, feminine laughter drifted through the trees -- a sweet, melodic sound that seemed to dance on the air. The laughing again, Dervish thought, unease prickling at the edges of his mind. Should he flee?

Before he could act, a cascade of shimmering light enveloped him -- a swarm of faeries. Yet, instead of fear, wonder blossomed in his chest as the hum of delicate wings enveloped him like a symphony spun from nature's own magick. He extended his hand, trembling with awe, and a tiny faerie alighted upon his palm. Dervish gazed at the ethereal woman, mesmerized by her beauty as though caught in a spell.

"You are completely nude", Dervish observed, still holding the faerie woman in his hand. She reclined in his palm and spread her legs, exposing her faighin to his full view.

"That is very observant of you", the small blonde woman remarked, licking her lips. "Do you know that faerie faighin is exceedingly delectable?" she inquired, laughing. Her voice sounded like tinkling musical bells to Dervish's ears.

"I had not heard that", Dervish confessed. Are you inviting me to have a taste?" Suddenly Dervish was extremely intrigued and compelled to discover if what the lovely faerie lass claimed was true.

"Duh!" she exclaimed. "Go ahead. You will not regret it", she promised while opening and closing her legs.

Cradling the faerie lady in his hand, Dervish sat on the downed Hornbeam. Then he extended his tongue and started licking. As it turned out, the faerie lady told the truth. Dervish had never tasted anything like it in his life. The small winged woman moaned in ecstasy as Dervish continued performing gnè beòil.

He brought her to orgasm multiple times, each time squirting, before she lay in his palm completely exhausted. Then he noticed dozens of faeire women lined up on the log, each waiting their turn. To his astonishment, Dervish was able to give each of the faerie women oral pleasure without rest. Eventually he brought each of several dozen of the tiny ladies to climax with the wriggling of his tongue.

After the sweet sidhe nectar passed his lips, an intoxicating ambrosia seemed to dance across his taste buds. Dervish felt the liquid's magick take hold, a warmth spreading through him which caused the world around him pulse with life. He was overcome with a euphoria that felt otherworldly. Hours seemed to blend together as he marveled at the vibrant transformation of the forest. The leaves deepened to a lush, emerald green, glowing with an inner light.

Dervish laid down on the ground as the sun dipped lower in the sky, brilliant shades of orange and pink swirled across the horizon, creating a mesmerizing tapestry of colors that defied reality. The night seemed to come alive with a surreal beauty which Dervish gazed at in awe until sleep finally claimed him.

The next morning Dervish woke to find the effects lingered. He felt invigorated, his senses alive in a way he couldn't explain. Even the hard ground beneath him offered no discomfort. Rising, he turned to the sun, only to notice something strange -- it rose higher in the sky and its light seemed unfamiliar, its hue subtly altered. The land around him felt both known and unknowable, as if reality itself had shifted while he slept.

"You have been transported to the faerie realm", the first faerie woman he had given oral pleasure to explained. She flew down from a blackthorn branch and landed on a tree stump near Dervish. Overcome with joy, she danced a pirouette. Her sparkling gown seemed to flow in slow motion as she spun around.

"Welcome to your new home", she sang. "You are going to love it here!" She bowed gracefully and added, "You may call me Eilean. I am the leader of this faerie tizzy".

Dervish absorbed what Eilean told him. He recalled a children's fable he read while studying to be a scribe. As per this story, mortals could be transported to the faerie realm and trapped there. The thought that he now found himself in just such a predicament was distressing, still he felt an inexplicable calmness.

"I thank thee for the very kind offer, but I'd rather be on my way", Dervish remarked with composure.

Eilean frowned, clearly displeased by his response. "You have been selected, which is a great honor", she replied.

"You are correct. I apologize", Dervish conceded. Though he was lying. He saw no reason to upset his host at the moment. Perhaps he could win her trust and convince her to release him?

"That is a certainly a relief", Eilean remarked. "I was afraid you had been selected incorrectly". Then she lifted her dress. "Do you care for another taste?" she inquired, revealing her nether region.

Dervish decided he would. In fact, he thirsted intensely for another taste of sweet faerie faighin. He could not imagine he would ever experience anything more delightful than eating out a faerie. Eliean smiled as she shimmied out of her dress.

"My sisters will arrive shortly to be serviced", Eilean informed him. Her wings began to beat, lifting her off the stump. Again she sat in Dervish's palm. She reclined and spread her legs. Dervish brought the faerie faighin to his mouth and eagerly commenced gnéas béil. Eilean squirted and he drank in the delicious faerie nectar.

When he finished Eilean suggested Dervish remove his trousers. He did not know for what purpose, but complied. Eilean embraced him, clasping her arms around his manhood. The feel of her tiny tongue fluttering against his bod was intensely pleasurable.

Eliean gasped when Dervish drenched her with his essence. "Ar bó!" she shouted, swallowing a small amount.


The days passed and Dervish found he was unable to keep track of the number. Each day played out virtually identically, yet he did not grow bored. Clearly he was addicted to the faerie liqueur. In fact his craving for it was unbelievably potent and found he could not get enough. Dervish also found that it sustained him completely. He had no need of food or drink whatsoever.

Dervish regaled the faerie tizzy with tales of his adventures, which delighted them. In turn, they sang songs and performed skits that filled the air with laughter. During other hours of the day, Dervish was allowed to roam freely. He discovered that, after walking in any direction for a period of time, he always ended up exactly where he started. He was certain he wasn't walking in circles and returning to the exact same place purely by coincidence. That's when he concluded he must be imprisoned in some kind of alternate dimension or demiplane.

Eilean confronted him one day. It was another of many. Dervish was unsure how many had passed, but it could be thousands. Dead leaves crunched under his boots as he explored the cool tranquil forest. Songbirds warbled ariose tunes as they bounced around the underbrush, searching for bugs. Occasionally he spotted a deer or a squirrel. Sometimes he observed butterflies floating in a serene meadow.

Dervish discovered a babbling brook, its waters dancing with sunlight that fractured into rainbow hues. He sat for many hours at its edge, studying the fish that swam lazily in the clear water, their scales sparkling in the golden light. The sound of the flowing water seemed to carry whispers of ancient songs.

Though Dervish wandered far and wide, the enchantment of the realm always guided him back to the same glade, a realization that marked his confinement.

"As you have discovered, there is no escape", Eilean informed him, stamping her feet and crossing her arms underneath her beautiful full round breasts. Was she cross with him?

"I assure you, I was only exploring. I quite like it here", Dervish fibbed. "It is my heart's greatest desire to never depart this place". To his surprise, Dervish found that his words rang true. He did love it here. And yet, he wished to leave. He missed his family and was concerned about what had transpired back in the mortal realm during his absence.

This seemed to satisfy Eilean. "I am extremely glad to hear that", she replied. "Now, I have a surprise for you. This is something that will completely convince you that you should stay with us forever and ever".

Dervish sat on the same moss covered log in the same glade he made his home ever since arriving in the faerie dimension. Just a short distance away was a shelter he previously constructed of sticks and grasses to keep him dry during the occasional rain shower. It was about the time of day when the tizzy would gather.

He listened to Eilean talk as he shaved. During his explorations he identified a thick grass that, when snapped in half, produced a clear green gel. He used this in place of shaving cream. Eilean prattled on. She was clearly very enthused concerning this still not disclosed surprise.

Hearing the flutter of tiny wings, the faerie known as Luna arrived. She hovered in the air for a second, then touched down on the log next to Eilean.

"Why scrape your mortal skin so? Does it soothe your spirit?" Luna mused, obviously confused. "You must be hungry", she added as she adjusted her moss cap. She lifted her skirt, exposing herself.

"Not yet, Luna", Eilean said, scolding her sister. "I was about to tell our guest about the wonderful surprise".

Luna sat down next to Eilean and whispered something to her as Dervish finished removing the mucilaginous goo from his face using his pocket knife. He peered at himself using the shard of a mirror given to him by one of the faeries, content he had completed the task.

"As it turns out, the surprise is not quite ready yet", Eilean confessed. "But it is a doozy. I am positive you will be quite pleased. Let me just say that there is a way for you to magically transform to the perfect size. Great preparation was required, which is why I'm only bringing it up now".

"The perfect size is your size, I take it?" Dervish inferred. For what purpose, he could only guess. Though he thought he had a good idea what Eilean might have in mind.

"You know, there is something I've been meaning to ask you for some time", Dervish confessed. "I've been wondering what happened to all the faerie men. Are there none?"

"They perished", Eilean informed Dervish, tears filling her eyes. "That is why we brought you here. To help us bolster our numbers".

"I would be very willing to help you solve this problem", Dervish confirmed. It seemed he was about to become the father to dozens of faerie babies? Then he remembered he read in a book that faeries simply come in to existence, fully formed in an instant. One passage claimed that a fairy awakens within a blossoming flower. He related this to Eilean.

The tizzy leader appeared shocked. "It seems you know more than most", she mused. "But that is correct. This instant creation is known as sradag dhiadhaidh, or the divine spark. The creation of a faerie is viewed by our kind as a tiodhlac bestowed by the grace of the Chúirt Seelie. Unfortunately, a mallachd has fallen upon the tizzy. For this reason no new faeires are currently able to be spontaneously created via the divine spark. It is being blocked".

Eilean paused, allowing Dervish to take in what she had said. Then she added, "there is, however, a way to circumvent this".

Dervish didn't know what to think. "Could the curse be lifted instead of circumvented?"

"No. At least I don't know of a way currently. In the meantime it was decided that we should increase our numbers as the mortairean do. I don't think any faerie has ever done it before, though I'm excited to find out what it's like".

"For the record, this was a decision reached upon the recommendation of our sovereign, Queen Eimíle. She told me personally that, as per her vision, a great daonnaithe adventurer would appear at the exact time and place you did. And that this básmhar would serve as a soitheach dhiadhaidh, or divine vessel. You fit the physical description precisely. You are the divine vessel".

Dervish was concerned that he might offend Eilean by questioning the vision of their queen. Still, he decided he needed to point something out, which is that he was not a great adventurer. "Perhaps there has been a mistake? I am but a novice", Dervish replied with some trepidation.

"As far as adventuring goes, you will be great. A mòrachd Eimíle confirmed this to me personally. It is your destiny. Though unconventional, you must aid us in the way of mortals -- the act of creation not born of flowers but of flesh. Moreover, you already are great in one specfic regard. All the faeries of this tizzy long to feel your massive bod inside them. Now, do you wish to assist us or not?"

Dervish confirmed (a second time) that he would help in any way he could. This made Eilean very happy.

"I am extremely relieved. I don't know what we had done if you refused", the fairie tizzy leader sighed. "All we have to do now is wait. Great magic will be required to make this possible. This is in progress as we speak".

Dervish sat on the hornbeam log, lost in thought. On one hand, a great adventurer was required to fulfill a prophecy. On the other hand, he was not a great adventurer. But Eilean said he would be great in the future. Obviously, Derivsh concluded, the only way he could become the great adventurer foretold would be if he was allowed to leave this place. He would not become great by staying with the faeries forever. Therefore, Eilean had no choice but to release him.

His logic was airtight and Eliean could not dispute it. In order to fulfill the prophecy given by the Queen, she would have no choice but to allow him to depart. Though not until he impregnated each and every faerie lady of the tizzy.

Eilean extended her hand, her fingers shimmering as if woven from moonlight itself. "Dervish Sanders, I, Eilean of the Gnéasúil Craiceáilte faerie tizzy, swear upon the prophecy of our Bhanrigh and the magic that binds our realm. I pledge to release you from this place so that you may fulfill your destined greatness. In return, you shall aid me in the task set forth by Banríon Eimíle. Do you agree to this pact?"

Dervish hesitated for a moment, the weight of the words pressing upon him. Then, summoning his courage, he clasped her hand between his thumb and forefinger. "I agree. Upon my word, I will honor the terms of this bargain".

As their hands met, a soft glow encircled them, and the air around seemed to hum with unseen power. The pact was sealed -- neither could break it without consequence.

"fìor mhath!" Luna exclaimed, declaring the deal to be fantastic, in her opinion. "Now, about the sustenance I previously offered, are you ready to receive it now?"

Dervish glanced down and saw Luna, who had shed her clothing, astride his right bare foot. She began to groan and grunt as she rubbed her crotch back and forth against his skin. "I'm ready to squirt!" the faerie lass cried. "If you want my nectar you better act fast".

Dervish Sanders: This story didn't include any information about my mother or father or sister. Except confirming they exist. Though it seems I am never going to see them again.

The Biographer: It is true that, in the prior tale, I said that Dervish would not set foot in his family's home again. While this doesn't for certain mean he will never see his family members again, it does seem unlikely. I may reveal more of his backstory later, but for now, the focus remains on his time in the faerie realm, which is a tale that will continue in the next installment and conclude with two additional chapters.

 swtd-442. dsa-22.  Previous. Next.

Dervish Sanders & The Hyperthemesiatic Recalling

Dervish Sanders: So, what's next? I'm thinking it might be time for another backstory? Maybe you'll tell me how the tiefing Char Umi from the prior tale came to be in the Garden of Respite? I actually am interested in hearing more about that.

The Biographer: You guessed right about the backstory, although what I have actually prepared is something new. I'm calling this one, "Dervish Sanders & The Hyperthemesiatic Recalling". If you look it up you'll find that "hyperthymesia syndrome is also known as Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory or HSAM. This is a rare condition characterized by an extraordinary ability to recall and retain autobiographical memories".

Dervish Sanders: That sounds interesting. As per your prior tale, Ayla expressed interest in hearing about my mother. Later you said that Ayla, Char and I talked for hours while at the visitor's cottage in the Garden of Respite. Could this narrative be my recounting of an event from my past in Englaland, as told by me during this hours long conversation?

The Biographer: Precisely. Your guess is spot on. What follows is the story, told exactly as it happened. Because you have an an extraordinary ability to recall autobiographical memories.

Dervish Sanders: Wow! I didn't know that about myself. So, I take it there will be no backstory for the tiefling character?

The Biographer: I can give you one if you wish. Following the Dervish Sanders backstory. Now, let me begin. As you surmised, this tale takes place in Englaland, which is where Dervish is originally from before he relocated to Mauretania several decades prior to the "present day". By which I mean the in-story timeline.

On a cool spring morning, as the sun climbed into the sky, a magpie alit outside Dervish's window and began to chirp. "Wake up", it seemed to cheep. This went on for some time, eventually rousing Dervish. Annoyed, he pulled the covers over his head, but the incessant chattering continued unabated.

Dervish threw back his blanket and went to his open window. He gazed about for the source of the ruckus before spotting the offending noisemaker in a nearby Kentish cobnut.

"The road ahead gleams bright and gold; a treasure lies where shadows fold", the magpie said in Birdspeak.

Dervish, having a passing familiarity with Birdspeak, was able to decipher the warbler's verbalizing.

"Say what?" he replied in rudimentary Birdspeak.

The avian quickly jumped from one branch to another, its inky plumage shimmering like an obsidian jewel in the morning light. In a trice it turned and starred directly at the man in the window.

"Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants", the black and white songbird counseled, a twinkle in one violet-blue iris.

"That is wise advice", Dervish replied in human speak. He listened some more and, though he didn't understand all of what the magpie piped, decided he had enough information to go on.

Despite having recently come into a large sum of money, Dervish decided to investigate this alleged treasure, if only for his amusement. Something about the magpie's words stirred a restless energy in him, too tempting to ignore.

Dervish washed his face in a basin on his nightstand, dressed, then departed his abode. His mother, father and sister were still asleep, so he trod lightly on the wood plank floor. Little did he know this would be the last time he would set foot in his family's home.

Dervish silently closed the door behind him and set out. The morning air was cold and crisp, the sky painted orange and gold as the new day dawned. Following the magpie's directions, Dervish set out from Waltham Abbey, heading east along a winding path that cut through rolling meadows and whispering hedgerows. A short while later Boudicca's Obelisk, rising solemnly from the forest's edge near Ambresbury Banks, came into view. Its timeworn surface seemed to echo with the distant voices of battle and rebellion, though Dervish gave it only a passing glance as he pressed onward into the wooded expanse.

Navigating the trails of Epping Forest, he headed southeast, a journey that brought him to Copt Hall. The grand manor emerged like a vision from behind clustered oaks, its stone façade radiating an air of authority. Yet Dervish regarded it less as a marvel of permanence and more as a fortress of privilege. He had it on good authority that the inhabitants wouldn't hesitate to run trespassing peasants off their land with dogs. Or worse. So he was careful to keep to the public road, clear of the estate's boundaries.

Leaving Copt Hall behind, an hour and a half after beginning his trek, Dervish entered the secluded tranquility of Griffin's Wood. Here he found a large downed hornbeam that conformed to the description imparted to him by his avian friend.

The minutes passed as Dervish took a swig from his waterskin while taking a rest on the moss covered log. Clearly it had been on the forest floor for some time, as it was afflicted with rot and covered with various mosses, as well as some English Ivy. The leaves of the Griffin Wood trees rustled in the warm breeze as Dervish scanned his surroundings, but no gleamings of bright and gold immediately caught his attention.

Hearing branches snapping, Dervish spotted a short, stout, black-haired man emerge from the trees.

"You there!" the man shouted. "I lost something very valuable in the vicinity. You didn't happen to find it, did you?" The man eyed him with suspicion.

"No, sir", Dervish replied. "But I could help you look. Maybe you can describe what it is you lost?"

"A twill pouch filled with gold nobles that was tied to my belt", the man explained, a look of extreme worry on his bearded face. "Those coins were intended as repayment of a loan from my uncle. It will be very bad trouble for me and my household if I do not find it".

Dervish assumed this was the treasure the magpie tweeted about, and so decided to help the man attempt to locate it.

While searching, the man told Dervish that he lost the coins while running through the woods in fright.

"A harbinger of my misfortune, I fear", he lamented. "I am Ashley of Wood House, by the way. I am employed there as a handyman".

Dervish shook the man's hand and introduced himself. "I am Dervish of Waltham Abbey. I am employed there as a scribe". Though this was a white lie, given that Dervish had not worked as a scribe for several years, having resigned his position to test his fortunes as a fulltime adventurer.

A surprised expression crossed the man's face. "I have heard of you!" he exclaimed. "The rumor is that your family came into a great fortune recently. If your last name is Sanders, that is".

"It is not that great", Dervish replied, downplaying the magnitude of his family's recently acquired riches. "But, yes, my family name is Sanders". In his estimation the last thing the Sanders family needed was for word to spread and beggars to come knocking, looking for handouts. Not that he was opposed to giving to charitable causes. In fact, he had only recently anonymously donated a large sum to the local orphanage.

"Hmm. That's not what I heard", Ashley remarked. "I heard that that Sanders family is fabulously wealthy".

Dervish chuckled dismissively. "That is a great exaggeration. You know how it is with rumors".

Ashley of Wood House seemed to take Dervish at his word, remarking, "you seem like a decent bloke, unlike the snooty yfels that reside at Copt Hall".

After a half hour of searching, the two found nothing, so they decided to expand the perimeter. Shorty thereafter, a glint among the blades of grass caught Dervish's eye and he bent over, finding a torn pouch. It appeared to him that Ashley's purse had caught on the prickers of a hawthorn bush.

"By God's light, tis my pouch!" Ashley cried.

Dervish handed Ashley the pouch, though he could tell by the weight it was devoid of coinage. Ashley noticed this immediately as well.

"Woe is me! There is but one coin here of the eleven there should be", Ashley remarked after looking inside. Then turning it inside out. Then frantically searching the ground on his hands and knees; getting scraped across the face by the bush's thorns for his trouble.

Giving up, he sat dejectedly on the log, small drops of blood dripping from the light scratches on his face.

"Whatever will I do?" Ashley cried.

Dervish took pity on the man and offered a solution. "I tell you what, so long as you promise to tell no one, I will replace your coins. I happen to have some with me. Although, as I already said, my family has not come into a great fortune. We have been moderately blessed. I beg you not to perpetuate any false gossip on this matter".

Ashley readily agreed and Dervish handed him 10 gold nobles.

"I'll hunt you down and give you a severe thrashing if I hear of this", Dervish warned. He was not sure he would actually carry though with this threat, but issued it regardless.

Ashley grasped his hand and thanked him profusely. "I solemnly swear, I will tell no one".

It was then that a faint unnerving tittering rippled through the grove, carried on the breeze like the tinkling of distant wind chimes.

"Fey folk! I saw them earlier, which is why I was running". Ashley looked around fearfully. Dervish looked about as well. He saw no faeries.

"I bid thee good fortune!" Ashley blurted, clutching the coins close to his breast. Then he took to his heels and bolted, his shoes crunching the underbrush, as though the (presumed) faerie laughter was a hound at his heels.

Dervish recalled, having read something about it while working as a scribe, that the common folk believed faeries to be mischievous, and even dangerous beings. Also that they were sometimes associated with illness or misfortune. It is better to be safe than sorry, he told himself. Therefore he decided to return home, convinced that if he was able to locate the magpie nest, it definitely might contain the missing 9 gold nobels.

The Biographer: And with that, I will conclude this installment. I imagine you're wondering if Dervish will encounter these alluded to faeries.

Dervish Sanders: Not really. I'm assuming he will. I think the foreshadowing made it apparent. And that might explain why I never return home. By the way, what was Ashley doing tramping around in the woods with so much money? This doesn't seem like a wise thing for him doing. Proven by him losing his money pouch.

The Biographer: Well, that's something you will never know. Given that you might have asked Ashley before he ran away, but didn't. Though, in order to satisfy your curiosity, I will tell you. Ashley traveled from Wood House to Waltham Abbey to sell some of his belongings to raise funds to pay his debt. Then returned, passing though Griffin's Wood, which is where he spotted the faeries. Or imagined he did. And took off running, returning after he realized his money pouch was missing.

Now, if you have no further questions, we can conclude for today and get back to your encounter with the faeries next time. Which I won't deny will be occurring, as you correctly deduced.

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Dervish And Ayla Spend The Night At The Garden Of Respite Visitor's Cottage

As dusk blanketed the Garden of Tranquility, Dervish Sanders stood outside the visitor's cottage. The air was alive with drifting dandelion fluff, catching the amber glow of the setting sun. Ayla, a step ahead, beckoned him to hurry, but Dervish lingered, plucking a dandelion from the earth.

"Good fortune", he explained as he blew on it, releasing the seeds to the wind. They spiraled upward as though carried by invisible hands.

"You believe that?", Ayla asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's something my mother told me", Dervish replied wistfully. "I doubt there is any truth to it, but who knows?"

"I guess it couldn't hurt", Ayla concluded. "You should tell me about your family some day".

"They are long gone", Dervish revealed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Ayla decided to let the subject drop for the time being. She picked a dandelion herself and blew on it, making her own wish. The pappus took flight intact, drifting away into the night sky.

Inside the visitor's cottage, a warm glow radiated from an already crackling fire. Its presence hinted at the possibility of other visitors. Or perhaps the hearth itself was enchanted. A pot of stew hung above the flames, gently simmering as the firelight danced across the walls. The air was heavy with the intoxicating aroma of sage, its source a smoldering bundle of dried leaves resting on a plate in the middle of the stout wooden table. The herbal fragrance intertwined with the earthy, savory notes of the bubbling stew

"It looks like a vegetarian shurba", Ayla remarked, removing the pot's cover using a oven mitt she found on a nearby hook.

"You think we should eat this?" Dervish asked, eyeing the pot warily. Then he caught a whiff and reconsidered. "It smells delicious".

"Perhaps we shouldn't", Ayla agreed. "If for no other reason that it belongs to someone else".

"My dandelion soup is quite safe to eat, travelers", a disembodied female voice assured them. "And you are welcome to it".

Dervish looked around in alarm. Aside from Ayla and himself, there was no one else present. Where was the voice coming from?

"Look", Ayla said pointing.

Dervish looked where Ayla indicated and noticed a mouse perched on the mantel above the fire, starring at them with beady black eyes. Then the mouse spoke.

"I am Fawaz, the familiar of the mistress of the kukh", the small brown rodent said. Its nose twitched though its lips did not move.

"I see", Dervish replied. And where are you, mistress of the Kukh? Are you nearby?"

"I am", the mistress revealed by way of her mouse familiar. "I'm in this very building on an upper floor. I don't usually interact with guests. Though the humster did tell me you were on your way. And vouched for you".

"Will you join us for some of the food you prepared?" Ayla inquired.

"I think I may", the mistress replied. "Though I am apprehensive. It is possible you could be disturbed by my appearance".

Ayla thought, but assured the possibly hideous female that she would not be at all alarmed, so the voice agreed. The mouse squeaked, then dashed into a crack in the wall behind the mantel, disappearing like a shadow at twilight.


A few minutes later the mysterious stranger joined them. Both Dervish and Ayla agreed she was quite beautiful and not at all hideous. Despite her horns, tail and pitch black eyes. Though Dervish was momentarily taken aback when she sashayed in, joining them for dinner.

The reason for her demonic appearance, she said, was due to being planetouched. She asserted that her bloodline reached back to an ancestor that hailed from the Feywild.

"Or, so my grandfather claimed", the lady disclosed, brushing a strand of gray hair tinged with lavender from her face. "You can call me Char", she added, flashing Dervish a smile which revealed her pearly whites. Also a set of razor sharp canines.

Char ladled her guests some soup and they sat down to eat. Dervish and Ayla explained what they were doing here, in the Dreamweaver's demiplane, which was to utilize a travel mirror in the West Hall of the Hall of Mirrors.

"That is quite interesting", Char commented, her eyes suddenly metamorphosing to a more human-appearing state. Upon blinking, her scleras were revealed to be white; her irises a striking emerald. "My nictitating membranes", she explained after noticing Dervish was starring at her.

"Your eyes are quite beautiful", Dervish confessed, noticing that Char's emerald irises were literally glowing.

This caused the tiefling lady to blush. "Thank you", she demurred.

Dervish took a sip of the soup, its rich aroma giving way to a blend of savory spices that danced on his tongue. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until the warm broth filled his belly, chasing away the day's weariness. Without thinking, he went back for another spoonful, then another.

Ayla took a sip of rose wine. Gazing at Dervish across the table, she inquired, "do you find this female attractive, my love?"

Dervish confessed that he did, causing Char to blush more.

The three spoke at length for many hours as Dervish and Ayla continued flirting with their host.

"You can correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that you are both attracted to me", Char eventually concluded. Though she found this prospect confusing.

The tiefling emptied her wine glass and Ayla poured her another. Suddenly she felt uneasy with her accusation and regretted asking. Perhaps she was completely wrong?

"Absolutely", Ayla breathed, her voice quivering lustfully.

Char felt slightly tipsy. Though less from the alcohol and more from nerves. She felt as if butterflies filled her stomach. She stood and began to clear the table, setting the empty soup bowls and glasses aside. She was going to recork the wine bottle, but found it empty. In fact there were several empties.

"Let me help", Ayla offered, though all the dishes had been removed.

"No need", Char insisted. Cleanup can wait until tomorrow.

"I meant with this", Ayla elucidated, approaching Char and gingerly unhitching her dungarees.

Offering no resistance, Char allowed the front of her overalls to fall, exposing her shapely breasts, which Ayla began to massage. Things progressed from there, and soon everyone was naqis. After that, Ayla and Dervish took turns pleasuring the tiefling woman sexually.

"Pull my tail!" Char demanded as Dervish bent her over the table and inserted his qadib into her almihbal, which exuded an incredible heat.

Dervish did as requested, yanking her tail as he thrusted into the tiefling from behind. He plunged his fua deep inside her. The juices began to flow, providing ample lubrication. Her rounded buttocks jiggled as he continued pounding until she climaxed.

Char sighed deeply, wiping the sweat from her brow. Following some encouragement from Ayla, Char went to her knees in front of Dervish and took hold of his qadib. Given the tiefling's sharp teeth, Dervish was a bit apprehensive in allowing her to perform eamiq halaq, but Char insisted she would not bite. Or only bite gently.

Char gulped and swallowed when the allisan was complete. Then licked her lips and grinned. "That is the most fun I've had in a long time", she concluded.

It was growing quite late, so they decided to retire to the bedroom, Char leading the way. Once there, Ayla and Char climbed onto the feather bed and started scissoring while Dervish recovered. Then, when the two women had finished, he laid Char out and delighted her with a second orgasm. They switched positions and Char rode Dervish until she experienced a third orgasm. The tiefling screamed in ecstasy, then collapsed on Dervish's chest.

Lying beside him, Ayla whispered, "That was far superior than what I actually wished for"; her lips gently kissing Dervish's ear. Soon everyone was fast asleep, exhausted after many hours of physical exertion.

 swtd-440. dsa-20.  Previous. Next.

Dervish And Ayla Encounter The Hadbat Hadi'a Humster And The Dafdae Barma Yiy

"HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM".

A low, resonant hum rippled through the forest, a sound so deep it seemed to stir the very roots of the towering trees around them. Dervish paused mid-step, his hand instinctively drifting toward the hilt of his scimitar.

"What is that humming noise?" he asked, glancing at Ayla. They had just entered the Habat Hadi'a forest after climbing the massive staircase and leaving the East wing of the Hall of Mirrors complex behind.

"HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM".

Ayla tilted her head, listening intently. "It's coming from this direction". She gestured toward a narrow path that forked off from the main thoroughfare. Her curiosity sparked, she added, "Let's check it out".

Dervish was also intrigued, so followed as Ayla turned onto the narrower path. The stone trail wound through the trees, which seemed to grow denser with every step. The humming grew louder, a soothing rhythm that pulsed through the air like a heartbeat.

"Perhaps we should turn back", Dervish suggested after a while, his voice uneasy. Could this be a trap? Yet even as he said it, he realized the sound was oddly calming, almost hypnotic.

Before Ayla could answer, something scurried into view. A small, antlered creature emerged from the shadows -- a rodent-like being with sleek brown fur. It stopped directly in their path and regarded them with glowing eyes.

"Greetings, humanoids", it hummed, its voice vibrating in perfect harmony with the forest's strange resonance. "I am the humster".

Dervish had never heard of a humster before and had no idea what one was. Ayla indicated that she also did not know what a humster is by shrugging her shoulders when Dervish turned and looked at her.

"Relax", the humster hummed.

Dervish and Ayla both found themselves feeling very relaxed. The soundwaves gently caressed their bodies like millions of tiny finger massaging every inch of their bodies.

"This feels fantastic!" Ayla exclaimed, her voice quivering.

Dervish felt the soundwaves massage his body, including down below. This caused him to become aroused. Waves of pleasure washed over him as the soundwaves continued to edge him toward an orgasmic crescendo. Ayla cried out in ecstasy as she climaxed. Dervish dropped his pants just in time to avoid soiling himself.

A powerful stream of almani shot forth as Dervish erupted. When finished he went to his knees, exhausted. A feeling of euphoria overtook him. He sat on the stone path with his pants around his ankles.

"I call that the orgasmic hum", the humster explained. The humming decreased, then petered out.

Dervish wondered if this was some sort of attack. If so, he and Ayla were in quite a vulnerable position. She was also down on her knees, her face looking flushed.

"That was one of the most powerful orgasms I have ever experienced", Ayla declared. Dervish found himself agreeing. He found a rag and cleaned himself off. Then pulled up his pants.

The creature started humming again. "Are you sure you two wouldn't like to go at it?" the humster asked.

Both Dervish and Ayla agreed that sounded like an excellent idea. As the humming continued, Dervish removed his pants and Ayla her panties. Then she climbed on. Moving her body faster and faster, she rode his qadib until they both orgasmed once again.

The humster approached, looking very satisfied. Ayla picked up the creature. "So cute", she concluded. "Obviously this humster is no threat".

"Indeed, I am no threat", the humster concurred. "And your reaction to my hum defense has proven that you are no threat to me", the humster squeaked. "Those who are good react as you did. Those who are evil react in another manner".

"What would be the manner of the reaction of those who are evil be?" Dervish asked, pulling up his pants a second time.

"With violence instead of love", the humster replied. "But you passed the test".

The humster looked deeply in Ayla's eyes. "You do not require my assistance", it concluded. It jumped from Ayla's hand and approached Dervish Sanders. "I have a gift for you", the humster said.

Dervish picked up the humster, which proceeded to look deeply into his eyes. Then the humster started straining and grunting. It finished by taking a poop in Dervish's hand. The humster jumped down and ran off, leaving behind a sparkling cool blue gem in Dervish's palm.

Both Dervish and Ayla agreed this was a very strange encounter, but returned to the main path. After Dervish pocketed the humster's gift.

"I don't know what to make of what just happened, but I guess I'll hold onto this", Dervish remarked, examining the jewel.

"This gem seems to have magical properties. What they are I cannot say", Ayla concluded after scrutinizing the gem. She handed it back to Dervish.

The couple resumed walking the main path though the forest as the light diminished in the sky above. Stars appeared and Dervish and Ayla eventually came to a large stone wall that extended in both directions as far as the eye could see. A metal gate swung open when pushed by Ayla.

A soft creak echoed through the air as the gate opened, swallowed quickly by the gentle hum of fireflies and the rustling of frangipani petals in the breeze. After some time, the path led to a circular clearing dominated by a reflecting pool at its center. Moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting rippling shadows on the surrounding Yoshino cherry trees.

They approached the reflecting pool, its water impossibly still, as if it defied the breeze entirely. Then, without warning, the silence shattered -- a series of deep, resonant croaks broke through the night. The croaking intensified, reaching an almost deafening volume.

Hundreds of blue-green amphibians suddenly swarmed the two, hopping and jumping several feet into the air. Dervish and Ayla were pelted with tiny frog bodies. Dervish attempted to draw his scimitar, but the pommel slipped from his grasp, as it was coated with some kind of slime.

One slightly larger frog, with a form that appeared to be composed of water, sat at the pool's edge. "Welcome, travelers, to the Garden of Respite. It is rare for adimi to tread here uninvited", the frog said, speaking.

Was this was a threat?

Ayla blinked, "we have been invited and travel with the permission of the master of this realm", she insisted.

"I am Barma Yiy, and this is my realm. I did not grant permission", the iridescent amphibian croaked.

"I see", Dervish replied. He deduced that the frog was referring to the pool as its realm. As opposed to the demiplane the Hall of Mirrors was located in. "We apologize".

"la mushkila", Barma replied. "Though I am curious as to who you are referring. Who granted the permission you claim to have?" Barma eyed Ayla.

In the meantime, while they had been conversing, the small hopping frogs stopped jumping. Though they remained on the ground surrounding Dervish and Ayla.

"The Dreamweaver", Ayla answered. "Though it appears you may not know who that is".

"I do know!" Barma croaked. Its internal organs glowed though its translucent skin. "The Dreamweaver is a powerful human wizard. Long ago an ancestor of mine was this wizard's familiar. The Dreamweaver's name is etched in the waters of memory", Barma croaked, his throat pouch inflating as he spoke.

Dervish didn't know about this. He deduced that the wizard this amphibian referred to must be the creator of the artifact known as the Dreamweaver's cloak. "That is who gave us permission. The one that wears the Dreamweaver's cloak".

"I assess this to be truthful", Barma concluded after considering Dervish's statement. "The fact is, I had a vision that foretold of your arrival". Just then Barma's tounge darted from his mouth, snagging a firefly that floated nearby. He crunched it in his mouth for a while before swallowing. "You are welcome here".

Barma's eyes gleamed. "I invite you to gaze into the reflecting pool and gain some insight from the reflection's truth". The frogs surrounding them departed, hopping away and plopping into the pool. Soon only Dervish, Ayla, Barma and the fireflies remained. Though the remaining fireflies kept their distance from Barma.

"Why would we want to do that?" Dervish asked, stepping forward.

Many frog heads appeared above the water. They croaked in unison, an eerie harmony that sent a chill through the air. "Worry not. Step to the water's edge, gaze into its depths, and find out", Barma assured them.

"Allow me", Alya interjected, sensing Dervish's hesitation. Ayla gazed into the dark reflective waters. She took in what she saw, sighing. Ayla saw a vision of the future. A future in which she betrayed her love, Dervish. "Not yet", she whispered.

Dervish stood beside her, though he saw nothing of Ayla's vision. Instead he saw a vision of his past. The face of his first love, Everly. The woman he proposed to long ago. This perplexed him, given that, since then he had met the love of his life, Ayla. "What do you make of this?" he wondered out loud.

"What do you see?" Ayla inquired.

"The face of the woman who broke my heart", Dervish replied. "Though my heart is healed now. Thanks to you". This seemed to trouble Ayla. "Are you troubled?" Dervish asked.

"Only by what I saw in the waters", Ayla replied. She embraced Dervish. "It's nothing to worry about", she whispered in his ear. "Our love is strong".

"It appears as though today is a day of inexplicable encounters", Dervish concluded.

Barma noted the confusion on the human male's face. "If you are perplexed by the truth you saw, the meaning is likely to be revealed at a later date", the blue frog said as its skin shimmered. "As often is the case with visions". Then Barma departed, slipping silently into the water.

Dervish and Ayla drank deeply from the waters of the reflecting pool, then plucked some cherries for sustenance. The water was cool and soothed their dry throats. The cherries were sweet and calmed their hunger pangs.

"The visitor's cottage is up the path a bit", Ayla explained after kneeling down beside the pool. Removing them from her pocket, she proceeded to wash her panties. "I doubt I've ever squirted more intensely", she revealed, wringing out the undergarment.

 swtd-439. dsa-19.  Previous. Next.

Beholder Battle

The Biographer: Before we proceed with the current chapter in your ongoing adventures, which involves Dervish Sanders and Ayla navigating the Hall of Mirrors complex, I'm going to relate to you another tale. Strap in for the gripping backstory of the two beholders you just encountered. If that is ok with you.

Dervish Sanders: What if I say no, I don't want to hear about the backstory of those two beholders? I recall you previously told me the backstory of Ibn Al-Hasan, a ghost that haunts the Al-Qarawiyyin Library. I'm sorry to say I didn't care for it. If this one is improved I might be open to hearing it.

The Biographer: I apologize that the previous story you bring up did not meet with your approval. I will try to do better this time. Let me begin. This one takes place in the Underdark in a location far beneath Mauretania. Roughly 50 to 60 years before the last story I told. The setting is a laboratory filled with many vials and bottles containing various liquids.

The Eye Tyrant known as Don the Old levitated the potion xe had just finished mixing onto a nearby table via telekinesis. "This should do the trick", Don declared, contemplating xyr grand accomplishment. A human slave knelt before Don, trembling. Don grinned, thinking of the horror xe was about to inflict on this pathetic creature.

"Drink up", Don commanded xyr slave.

The slave looked hesitant, but did not dare defy his master. He stood and walked to the table where the completed potion awaited. "What will this do to me, master?" Ted inquired, his face filled with fear.

"Do not worry, my dear Ted. This potion will be highly beneficial to you".

Ted picked up the vial and brought it to his lips, his hands shaking.

"Good human", Don intoned, smiling broadly. The fun was about to begin. "Hurry and consume the potion and I promise to let the one that is your mate live".

Ted didn't want to drink the concoction, but didn't wish harm to befall his wife either. Which it surely would if he did not comply. Fearing he would regret it, Ted tipped the vial back and drank the foul liquid.

It burned going down, but, after it passed his esophagus and entered his stomach, he felt nothing. Momentarily Ted was relieved. He had feared instant death. Or worse. Turns out he was correct, as he was about to find out. Ted stood before his master for a few moments.

"Can I return to my wife?" Ted asked.

"Shortly", Don replied.

Ted suddenly felt a burning sensation in his gut. Pain, such as he had never know in his life consumed him. His belly exploded and his intestines gushed forth, hitting the floor. Then his eyes bugged out and his head exploded. When the transformation was complete a hideous creature remained where Ted had previously stood. A brain attached to a spinal column. The thing was still alive, as Don could see its heart beat in its chest. Though perhaps it would prefer not to be.

Don's tongue rolled out of xyr mouth and it slurped up Ted's spilled guts. Then xe felt a psychic connection to the creature and found that xe could control it with xyr thoughts. "Perfection!" Don exclaimed.

Now to mass produce them. It was a plan xe had been working on for many years, ever since traveling to this plane through the Great Rift. As had xyr rival, the one that laughably called itself The Wise One.

"I shall rule this realm, and not the inferior TWO. The name certainly befits it. It may be TWO, but I am Number One". Don grinned at xyr success.

Xyr spies reported that TWO was gathering followers and presenting itself as a deity. Don had no interest in convincing these pathetic creatures known as humans to cooperate with xe. Instead, xe would exterminate them. Don hated them intensely as soon as xe spotted them while gazing into the Great Rift -- as xe scryed upon this other realm from xyr home plane of existence.

"I can conquer them before you", TWO proclaimed confidently.

Don scoffed. "I accept your wager". Don was sure xe would be victorious. There was no chance at all xe would lose this contest to the inferior TWO.

And so both entered the Great Rift and crossed over to the Prime Material plane. Or one of them. Don had heard there were other rifts that connected to alternate prime material planes. Many inhabited by these humans. Though xe was not sure how much stock it placed in such rumors.

These life forms are clearly incredibly inferior, yet xe was to believe they were the most plentiful form of intelligent life in the multiverse? They were obviously barely intelligent. Not when compared to Don. Or even TWO. Or others of xyr kind. Why Don despised his kin. Even more than these humans.

Don dispatched xyr underlings into the Underdark to gather more components. Soon xe would assemble an army and it would march on the stronghold of TWO. Then xyr minions would kill TWO. Which was the wager. They would not face each other in direct combat, but assemble and send their puppets to kill the other.

Don found that the more such creatures xe created, the more they drained xe. It seemed that, while they did not need to feed themselves, they gained sustenance though their psychic connection to xe.

"It looks like I will have to scale back my plans", Don lamented. Xe did some calculations to determine how large an army xe could create without having to constantly seek nourishment.

Alternately, xe could allow xyr creations, which xe dubbed Teds, some autonomy. That was probably the better solution, Don concluded. Then they could feed themselves. And they would be much more lethal if each was capable of attacking TWO psychically.

Xe experimented on the Teds xe had previously created. This mostly resulted in failure. Their brains turned to goo when xe attempted to modify them using psionic surgery. Theoretically xe determined it could be done, but xe skill at psionic surgery was lacking -- Don had to ruefully admit.

The only solution was to modify the formula and destroy the Teds xe had already created. Finally, xe was ready. The latest formula proved successful after several failed attempts. According to Don's spies, the idiot TWO was still playing as a deity, attracting thralls from a human settlement on the surface. Don would strike hard and fast and wipe them out before TWO knew what hit xe. Don chuckled as he envisioned striking the moron TWO down.

Don determined xe should make xyr move soon. Don decided xe would deal the final death blow xeself, in violation of the agreement that had been made so many years ago. While xyr Teds addled TWO's mind with their psychic attacks, Don would blast his enemy with a death ray. Or perhaps xe would try an enervation ray first and inflict some serious necrotic damage, then gloat as TWO expired.

Don laughed, confident xyr victory was at hand. Finally, the last of the preparations were complete, and xe was ready. What Don didn't know was that TWO had found a way to channel energy from the Far Realm through the Great Rift. In doing so, TWO discovered xe could grant xyr most loyal worshipers the ability to wield clerical magicks. TWO wasn't just pretending to be a deity; TWO was, in a way, a genuine deity. TWO was confident that, over time, xe would learn to better channel mystical power through the rift, and eventually, xe would ascend to true godhood.

Which is why the sneak attack failed. Also, TWO was aware when the incursion into xyr territory was planned. Thanks to xyr spies. TWO's clerics and mages were prepared for the Teds and struck them down as they advanced, wave after wave. Dozens were cut down, incinerated by fireballs and cut to pieces by TWO's human thralls. Under psychic assault some had their brains turned to jelly. The ones that survived retreated and their wounds were healed by TWO's clerics. Then they returned to the fray.

Don lurked in the rear, prepared to deal the final death blow to the hated TWO. But, when Don realized xe was losing, xe decided to flee. It was then Don found TWO waiting for xe.

"This ends today", TWO informed xyr rival. Xe chuckled, assured that xyr success was imminent.

"You're cheating!" Don exclaimed. "The battle was to be my minions against yours".

"Indeed, I am cheating", TWO smirked. "I have had my fill of our rivalry. I have much bigger plans and no more time to waste on this foolishness".

Don doubted these boasts. "I am the far superior specimen. When you are dead the humans who stupidly believe you to be a deity will become my slaves. I will create more Teds which will swarm the surface and I will rule this domain".

Xyr rival's confidence amused TWO, given that Don's downfall was at hand. Then xe sprung xyr trap. Several large cave trolls appeared out of nowhere, swinging large broadswords and battle hammers. TWO's mages had concealed the trolls using invisibility magicks. The broadswords sliced deeply into Don's hide. Several of xyr eyestalks were severed and fell to the ground. The battle hammers pummeled xe's thick derma, inflicting massive damage.

Don fired off a disintegration ray, striking one of the cave trolls and turning it to dust. Given that xe had a 360 degree field of vision (typical of xyr kind), Don noticed that TWO was rotating xyr most deadly eyestalk toward xe -- the death ray. Don dodged it easily and it hit one of the cave trolls, causing its instant demise.

The last cave troll fell when Don caused it grievous wounds. A beam from that eyestalk hit it squarely in the chest. The troll howled in agony and collapsed, mortally injured. At the same time Don fired off xyr disintegration ray a second time, aiming for TWO. TWO neutralized the ray using xyr antimagic cone, then returned fire, using xyr own disintegration ray. Don rotated xyr body, in order to utilize the antimagic ability of xyr central eye, but was grazed by the blast before completing xyr rotation. Don's remaining eyestalks were obliterated.

"Your luck has run out!" Don roared. Though Don realized xe was in serious trouble. Don decided to charge TWO and rip xe to shreds. Given that the freak TWO lacked a central maw, xe was confident TWO would be torn to pieces. But xe did not make it, crashing into the ground instead. Unbeknownst to Don, the disintegration ray had obliterated a large portion of xyr brain. In addition to xyr eyestalks.

Then everything went dark.

When Don came to xe found xeself confined. Pain raked xyr body as xe attempted to levitate. Don was imprisoned in a formidable metal cage. A human minion, noticing that Don was stirring, rushed off to inform his master. Some time later an unfamiliar beholder entered the chamber.

"You are my prisoner. For now. As long as I allow you to live", the beholder declared.

Don was confused. "What have I done to anger you?" Don implored.

TWO did not know what game Don thought xe was playing, though eventually TWO realized Don had a seriously reduced mental capacity. The disintegration ray had caused major brain damage. Don did not remember who TWO was. At first xe was incredibly angry. How dare xyr enemy forget all about xe?

Then TWO reconsidered. "Another beholder attacked you and left you for dead. I, being an unusually good-hearted example of our kin, instructed my servants to save you".

Don was relieved and counted his blessings. To be found by this idiot, when a more sensible beholder would have made certain xe was killed. "My thanks", Don lied.

"Not so fast", TWO replied. "I'm not that good-hearted. I propose an arrangement. You will serve me and I will allow you to live. With no eyestalks, you will be marked for death. Especially by others of our kin".

"Very well", Don acquiesced. Though xe had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Xe would never submit. As a beholder, it was not in xyr nature.

"I should execute Don", TWO mused. Xyr most loyal mage suggested something else that absolutely delighted TWO. Xyr mage informed xe that he had heard, while securing spell components and other supplies in a Underdark settlement nearby, that there was an illithid who, for a price, would perform psionic surgery on intelligent beings. In order to remove their will to resist.

TWO decided this was an excellent idea. Though xe did not tell xyr mage that. Xe did not want the fellow to get a swelled head and think itself not disposable. "That could work", TWO replied. Xe gave permission for the mage to seek out this illitihid and secure its services. Word was sent out that the great and powerful TWO was looking to hire the illithid known as The Will Breaker.

Meanwhile, TWO's servants provided xe with sustenance and Don's wounds healed.

"Release me from this cage", Don pleaded. "I have agreed to serve TWO". But TWO's servants did not listen. "This 'ahbil is no friend", Don concluded. How dare xe keep Don confined to this cage? Xyr anger grew and xe vowed revenge.

That changed after the psionic surgery was performed. The price was steep, but TWO paid it gladly. Using donations from xyr followers. They were diminished in number after the battle with Don's Teds, but, when word spread of xyr glorious victory, more decided to bow and worship The Wise One.

Long story short, the surgery was a success and Don's will was broken. Xe was reduced to a servile blithering boob. Don remembered nothing of xyr past existence, including xyr vow to exact vengeance. Don now willingly served TWO. Xe found it fulfilling and was pleased to do it. It was a very honorable position, to be the right hand of a god.

"Is the change permanent?" TWO inquired.

The illithid assured TWO it was. That portion of Don's brain had been burned away. Xe would never recover any memories of xyr past life or intellect. Satisfied, TWO instructed xyr minion to pay the great fee the illithid demanded. But The Will Breaker had another idea.

"I will take these Teds you mentioned off your, err, hands", it suggested. These creatures interested it more than gold.

"Unfortunately, none remain. My worshipers detest them. The few that remain were hunted down and slaughtered".

The Will Breaker expressed it's profound disappointment.

"But the research done by my rival remains".

This piqued the mind flayer's interest. "I will accept half my usual payment in exchange for this research. As well as your rival's slaves", the illithid proposed. It had heard that this beholder had numerous slaves, and it was hungry for brains. Also subjects to experiment on.

TWO readily agreed. "You may remove all manuscripts from Don's laboratory. My minions say there are many pages documenting years of research".

This pleased the illithid greatly and it did so. After which it departed, proud its work resulted in another satisfied customer. Also eager to start studying the manuscripts its slaves retrieved from Don's laboratory.


Dervish Sanders: That explains why two beholders were working together. I knew that was unusual. Also, even though this story was longer than usual, it really held my attention.

The Biographer: Clearly you are highly intelligent. I am not surprised you knew beholders are usually solitary. Also, I'm glad you liked this backstory better than the prior one. When you return to hear another tale I will dive right in and resume with the story about your travel through the Hall of Mirrors.

Dervish Sanders: Great. I look forward to the next installment. Also eventually making it to the Sun Palace. Unless that is a red herring.

 swtd-438. dsa-18.  Previous. Next.