yatsabel
TMF Regular
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Chapter 4
"The Dreamer"
The trio had traveled for perhaps three hours into the forest when the sky, without warning, turned a bruised purple. Sheets of cold rain began to fall, battering the forest floor despite the thick tree canopy. The gentle streams of the Mirthwood Forest swelled into angry, churning torrents, and the threat of a flash flood loomed large, swallowing the sounds of their splashing footsteps.
"We need to find shelter!" Corina cried, her voice barely audible over the roaring wind.
Thisdraeda nodded grimly. Her strong dwarven instincts for finding safe places kicked in, and she plunged ahead toward a rocky outcrop. Within moments, she found an abandoned dwarven safehouse, a squat stone structure half-swallowed by the earth and overgrown with moss. The front door was gone, leaving a gaping hole.
"This place will give us some shelter," she announced, motioning for them to follow.
They scrambled inside just as the worst of the storm hit. The wind howled, and the rain battered the doorway with a furious rhythm. Corina, shivering from the cold, raised her hands and began to cast a web spell on the entrance. With immense difficulty, a shimmering, translucent web formed, stretching from stone to stone and sealing the opening.
"It needs to be better than that," Thisdraeda said, pointing to the water seeping through the magical threads. The wind and rain seemed to tear at the temporary fix, its magical threads fraying under the assault.
"I'm out of magic," Corina declared, her hands falling to her sides in exhaustion. "I'd need more to seal it up."
"I didn't have much to start with," Thisdraeda grumbled, "and the Inquisitor took what little I had."
Corina and Thisdraeda looked up at Rika pensively, a silent, desperate question passing between them.
"No, no, no," Rika said defensively, taking a step back. "I didn't escape one magic-milking place just to find another."
"I'll just take what I need," Corina pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "A strong enough web, and I guarantee we'll be dry and safe until the storm blows over."
"I'm a tinkerer, not a magic battery," Rika scoffed. "And you need quite a bit for a spell like that."
"I need what I need," Corina replied, "but it's that or we all risk being miserable at best or dead at worst."
Rika's reptilian eyes narrowed. "I don't know," she said, a flicker of fear in her gaze. "I'm a screamer and a kicker, and my tail has a mind of its own when I am tickled."
"I don't have enough magic for another web," Corina declared. "This, can you hold her still, tail and all, while I go about getting what we need?"
The dwarf flexed her thick arms. "If I can't do it, no one can."
"I didn't say yes," Rika said nervously.
Corina offered a small, reassuring smile. "Say yes, Rika."
Rika gulped with difficulty, but she nodded. In an instant, she was on the ground, and Thisdraeda, acting on instinct, used her superior strength to pin the kobold's reptilian body in a series of arm locks, controlling her flailing tail with her powerful arms.
"You never said it was going to be like this," Rika said, her voice strained. "I feel helpless and vulnerable."
"We need your magic, Rika," Corina reminded her, her voice gentle. "Say yes, and I promise it will be short and sweet."
Rika nodded again, a tremor running through her small frame.
Corina knelt beside the kobold and darted a finger toward her sides, expecting a hard, scaly surface. To her surprise, the skin there was as soft and pliable as anyone else's. She kneaded with expert precision, and the result was immediate. Rika screamed for mercy instantly, the sound a mix of uncontrollable laughter and tears. The laughter, however, was not the sound of pure joy. It was frantic and desperate, a chaotic release of raw magical energy.
Rika, who did not wear boots, was completely vulnerable. Corina grabbed one of her legs, expecting the soles to be hard and calloused, but they were soft, sensitive, and, thankfully, incredibly ticklish. Corina felt magic course into her, a deep, potent surge of power. She was glad to see that the well was deep and that she could draw what she needed without having to push the kobold too far. With the renewed magical energy coursing through her veins, Corina knew she could cast a spell that would hold strong against the storm's fury.
She cast the spell and the web that was being battered by the storm was sufficiently reinforced that the entrance was fully protected from the ongoing storm outside.
The safehouse was large enough that they could find a dry space. Rika took some old logs and chopped some to sit on and some to use as firewood.
With a simple cantrip, Corina had lit the room, and with another, she lit the fireplace. The flames danced, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. It wasn't long until the safehouse was warm. They removed their clothes and let them dry near the fire while they ate from Corina's mushroom provisions.
The three sat together and ate the provisions in a comfortable silence.
"They are not as bad as I thought," Rika commented, chewing slowly.
"I still would prefer some dwarven steak smothered in dwarven butter with a sprig of rosemary and a tall jug of mead to wash it all down," Thisdraeda grumbled.
"Sarantha is a vegetarian," Corina commented. "As are most wood elves."
"Blah," Thisdraeda commented with obvious repulsion. "You don't get muscles like these off of grass and mushrooms."
"The sheep and cattle you eat got their muscle grazing," Corina observed.
"Let's refrain from arguing," Rika said trying to keep the peace. "But if you ever wondered, kobolds are omnivorous. We can and will eat just about anything."
They looked at each other and laughed, the sound of the storm raging outside a distant memory.
Corina told them in depth how her adventure had started with her fateful speech, followed by being robbed and abandoned by Drash and then captured by Mistress Sarantha and then taken under her care and trained in the arcane arts.
They looked at her intently, admiring her story.
Thisdraeda looked around the room as if looking for something.
"It just ain't right to be in here and just have this dry mushroom mush to eat and nothing to wash it down with. This was an abandoned dwarf safehouse. They usually keep a hidden niche around. Sometimes they are forgotten."
Thisdraeda searched the walls of the shelter carefully. It seemed she was wasting her time until she found a brick that moved. She pulled it out with her enormous strength, and behind it was the hidden niche. The supplies were spoiled, but there was a decent axe which she quickly appropriated and four old bottles of dwarven spirits.
"The rations are centuries old and long since spoiled," she explained, blowing centuries-old dust off of the bottles. "These dwarven spirits have aged for centuries and are a rare treat. We can't let them go to waste."
She pulled the cork off of each and handed a bottle to each.
Both Corina and Rika looked dubiously at the bottles.
"How can you know it is not spoiled?" Corina asked, sniffing the liquor and wrinkling her nose.
"Trust me, lasses," Thisdraeda declared. "You will never again taste anything quite like this again." She held out the bottom of her bottle, prompting the other two to click theirs against hers in an act of toasting.
Reluctantly, they clicked against Thisdraeda and they paused as the dwarf put her head back and drank deeply of the bottle.
"By my dwarven ancestors," she declared. "This is smooth as a rock slide and powerful like the thunderstorm raging outside. Drink up, lasses. I'll be keeping the last one for meself. I am a dwarf after all. Drink up and drink deeply."
Corina sipped timidly. It reminded her of elfish brandy at the end of the harvest season only harsher and more bold. It smelled powerful and its taste persisted on her tongue and in her mouth. A pleasant warmth ran through her body almost instantly and any remaining chill she felt vanished.
Rika also sipped at first and then she began to take more bold swigs of the bottle as the warmth spread through her.
"You're off to become a great sorceress, you say?" Thisdraeda asked Corina as she quickly downed the bottle. "What happens after you become this great sorceress? I mean you already are somewhat of a sorceress. What happens after?"
"I haven't thought about that," Corina admitted feeling it easier about the subject. "I think I really wanted to get away from my life in Woodhaven. I didn't want to be there my whole life doing the same thing every single day. An elf's life is long and prone to adopt habits and traditions that help the years go by. I didn't want that for me. So, I don't know what happens after. As bad as that might seem."
"Bah," Rika said taking another long draught from her bottle. "In my warren I was just a cog in the system. A clever engineer when it was convenient, a magic battery when the shaman needed a quick burst of magic. Either way I was just a tool. I escaped and even though I fell captive to the dwarves, I found purpose. Now, I want to look far and wide and engineer new things for the world. Not as a cog in the kobold community and not as a captive to the dwarves. I want to make something that is me."
They looked at each other and took drinks from their bottles. As Rika and Corina drained theirs, Thisdraeda was on her second bottle.
"And you, This?" Corina asked. "What happens to you once you complete your debt?"
"It's all about honor and respect," Thisdraeda said with a sad tone. "I've fought long and hard to repair the reputation of my family. The Thistleboons committed the ultimate treason. Cowardice. And for generations we've tried to revert that. The rest still see us and consider us lesser and no amount of courage seems to sway them from that. I swear that I will be the most courageous and most daring and one day they will say the name Thistleboon and remember us with pride."
"Quite a trio, aren't we," Corina said. "The three of us out on our way trying to find our place in the world."
"Fate has brought us together," Rika said. "It is not pure chance. I was not by chance you were robbed by that human Drash. Fate led you to Sarantha and fate led you to the Interrogation room. We are bound together the three of us."
The three drained the bottles and a drunken stupor overcame them.
Dwarven spirits soaked their dreams. All dwarven spirits can have dream altering effects. Centuries old spirits are notorious for this. The bottles Thisdraeda found however, were centuries old, when they had been stashed, making them at the time of their opening a potent elixir that should have been taken in extreme moderation.
The three women slept soundly around the fireplace. Thisdraeda's deep snore overcasting Rika and Corina's lighter snoring. The storm continued on beyond them though they were fully oblivious to the world.
They slept and they dreamed spirit soaked dreams.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina dreamed.
In her dream, she was walking a familiar path through the Mirthwood Forest, the purple of her robes a striking contrast to the deep green of the ancient trees. But as she rounded a bend, the path opened into a strange glade she had never seen before. It was unnervingly beautiful, a wide field of emerald grasses.
As she stepped into the glade, a curious thing happened: the blades of grass began to grow. With every step she took, they reached higher, climbing past her knees, her waist, then her shoulders, until they towered over her like the canopy of a forest. She turned back, but her way was gone, swallowed by a rippling sea of green. She was trapped, the tall grasses swaying around her with no clear path in any direction.
Suddenly, a circle of blinding light pierced the gloom above. A gigantic magnifying glass descended, its flawless glass reflecting the immense, curious eye that peered down at her from beyond it. "What a pretty little butterfly!" a booming, melodious voice declared, and Corina felt a primal jolt of terror at the sheer size and casual tone of the observer.
She bolted, pushing her way through the thick stalks, the sound of her frantic breathing lost in the rustling grass.
"Nuts, the pretty butterfly is trying to get away!" the loud voice declared, a hint of amused frustration in its tone.
A massive net, woven from thick, coarse threads, descended slowly from the heavens. It was like a cloud descending to capture her, and she felt a sickening sense of inevitability as it scooped her up from the field. Caught within the tight weave, she struggled, her dagger fumbling at her belt.
"Ah dear, so pretty and so feisty," the voice said, as the net was hoisted effortlessly upward, brought closer and closer to the colossal magnifying glass.
Corina thrashed, her heart pounding against her ribs, and reached for her dagger to cut a hole in the net. But before she could, a plume of thick, heavy smoke billowed down from above, filling the net and her lungs.
"Sleep smoke," the voice said, its tone now calm and knowing. "Good for the bees, good for the butterflies."
A deep weariness settled over her. She struggled to stay awake, her eyelids growing heavy, her limbs feeling like lead. The world blurred, swaying with her body, until she finally surrendered to the peaceful, overwhelming darkness, falling into the depths of the net, sound asleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina awoke naked, suspended in a strange, disorienting stillness. She was pinned to a giant cork board, spread-eagled like a captured insect. Pins, thick as a human thumb, went through her wrists and ankles, yet the sensation was not one of pain but of a cool, firm pressure. She felt weightless, a specimen held in place for study.
A shadow fell over her, and then a colossal face loomed into view, blotting out the light of an oil lamp that rested over her. It was a human woman with a wide, gentle smile and a cascade of long, dark curls. She wore spectacles that gleamed with light, and she used a massive magnifying glass to study Corina with an unsettling intensity. The woman's eye, magnified to the point where Corina could see a swirling universe of brown and gold.
"My dear, dear butterfly!" the woman declared, her voice a loud and booming sound.
"You are exquisite, an unusual find in my garden," she said. "I am Miss Zenobia Nottle and I am adding you to my collection."
"I am Corina of Woodhaven," Corina shouted out loud.
Zenobia Nottle shook her head in what appeared to Corina to be mock disappointment. "I hear the faintest whisper," she said as if she could not hear the wood elf. "I assume you are not happy with your predicament. None in my collection really are. But the collection is important, and you will be displayed for many seasons to come, while if I let you go, you will die and fade and be lost to time."
Corina looked at the collection. There were a myriad of boards that lined the walls with butterflies, but also many other fantastic creatures. Jars of every size and color lined the shelves, and their colorful contents were labeled with handwritten notes.
Zenobia reached for a jar that only contained brushes and took out what appeared to be a very small brush, which to Corina looked huge. "I've heard some specimens take quite well to this," she said with a pleased smile as she ran the brush along Corina's sides and underarms. The sensation was a bizarre mix of torment and pure ticklish sensations. Corina screamed and laughed and shook against the pins, but they held steady.
"See how happy they become?" Zenobia said, pleased as she drew the brush over Corina's bare feet. "No more protests. You just needed some petting."
The "petting" went on for some time as Zenobia shifted between ticklish spots, brushing intently Corina's underarms and belly. The wood elf twisted and turned as strong as she could, but the pins held her tight, and she was slowly drained until she was fully subdued.
Corina hung drained and exhausted, the last of her laughter and tears fading into a hollow ache.
It seemed her fatigue was contagious, as Zenobia yawned and stretched. She placed Corina, still pinned to the board, on her desk. "We'll continue to work on you tomorrow," Zenobia promised. "I find the new ones need more attention when they are first captured."
The giant woman removed her glasses and undressed behind a dressing screen, removing her bright dress with floral print and returning from behind the screen in slippers and wearing a white night time shift.
She put out the lamp that was illuminating the room, and the faint glow of the moon outside illuminated the room ever so slightly.
From her position, Corina could see the giant woman pull the covers and sheets off of her giant bed, and she lay down. Corina could finally see her huge bare soles poke out from under the covers, and she slowly began to move less and less until she was motionless.
Zenobia began to snore. Her snores were deep and rumbled loud, shaking the air of the small cottage room they were in.
Corina sighed in desperation. She was progressing through the Mirthwood, only to be captured and tickled at every turn. She pulled harder at her pinned wrists and ankles, but she could not come free. It was not painful as she believed it probably should have been, but it was holding her fast.
Exhausted, she let sleep slowly come, and even with the loud, thundering snoring, she fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina felt a finger draw itself slowly up and down on the sole of her left foot.
She awoke immediately, a giggle rising in her throat, and tried to pull away, only to find she was still firmly pinned to the board. Her eyes darted down, and she saw a small, naked figure, not much bigger than herself, at her foot. She was human, with long dark black hair that cascaded down her back. Her cream-colored body was strong and toned, and her wrists and ankles bore small, dark holes where pins had once been—just like the ones currently holding Corina. The figure met her gaze, held a finger to her lips, and then began to move with a quiet, practiced ease.
The woman first loosened the pin in Corina's right ankle, then the left. She climbed the cork board with the nimble grace of a cat, moving toward Corina's wrists. She pulled on one pin and whispered softly. "Hold on to me as I pull the last one free."
Corina, feeling the terrifying pull of gravity, wrapped an arm around the strange woman. She hung onto her as the woman climbed carefully down. Finally on the ground, the woman still kept to a strict silence. She led Corina to a nearby drawer, slightly ajar, which seemed to be her home. Inside, the space was dimly lit by a teacup-sized candle she had repurposed. The drawer was a home, with a small wooden spool of thread serving as a table with a coin on top and a couple of other spools set out as improvised chairs. A nest of frayed ribbons served as a bed.
"It is simple," the woman said, "but I like to think it is cozy."
Corina was marveled by the ingenuity of the hidden lair.
"I am Arlene Denievue, First Battle Mistress of Beaufort," the human said, her voice a low and confident murmur. "I am the greatest duelist in all of Westmere."
"I am Corina of Woodhaven, disciple of Mistress Sarantha."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Arlene said holding out her hand. "I have grown adept at removing and replacing the pins. I will teach you. Zenobia sleeps deep and long into the morning, so this time is for us. We can talk, eat, and rest before returning to the board in time for her to wake."
"Where are we?" Corina asked taking Arlene's hand in hers and feeling the human's tight and confident grip.
"Did you drink of dwarf spirits?" Arlene asked, her voice low.
"Yes, old spirits I assume."
"Ancient," Arlene said, her tone grave. "Dwarf spirits are notorious for bringing on strange dreams. My theory is that drinking too much of an ancient brew will pull you into a dream. We have been pulled into this shared dream, and we can be trapped here for weeks or years. Indefinitely."
Corina shuddered. "How long have you been here?"
"A full season has passed since I arrived," Arlene said, her eyes distant. "I was drinking with my kin to celebrate my nineteenth won duel and awoke here. I've been alone all this time. Together, I hope we can plan an escape."
"How do you know for certain this is a dream?" Corina asked.
Arlene showed her wrists. A small, dark hole went from one side to the other, but there was no wound and no bleeding. "This is not from our world," she said. "Do you remember exactly how you arrived here? You recall the dwarven spirits, and that is your last memory, as it is mine. This, my dear friend, is us soaked in dwarven spirits, searching for a way to wake up."
"And if we do not escape?" Corina asked, her voice a faint whisper.
"I have heard that you awaken when you break free of the dream," Arlene said. "Be that a day, a week, a year, or a century." She shrugged. "Perhaps we share the same brew, and we now share the same dreamscape. I cannot say. But I can tell you that until I found you, I was alone."
"I've tried everything," Arlene said, her voice a low murmur that filled the small space. "The doors, the windows, even the gap in the chimney. You can walk right up to them, feel the cool air, see the impossible world outside, but you can't step through. It's like walking into nothing, a solid wall of void. There's no pushing through it, no force that can break it. It just... is."
She took a deep breath, her gaze distant as she recounted her months-long frustration. "I tried with my fists. I tried with a makeshift tool. Nothing worked. It's not a prison of wood and stone; it's a cage of pure magic. Our freedom isn't waiting for us at the exit. We're trapped by the spirits we drank, not by the walls of this place."
Corina listened intently, then a flicker of determination ignited in her eyes. "You were alone," she said. "You've only had your own strength and knowledge to rely on. But I'm an aspiring sorceress, and I have magic to help us see things you might not have been able to. I have a different set of skills. We'll figure this out, together. The walls might not break, but we will find the way out."
The two friends began to cooperate. Arlene taught Corina how to remove and replace the pins so Zenobia would not be the wiser. When Zenobia left to find new specimens, Arlene showed Corina the invisible barrier, a smooth, unyielding wall that prevented them from leaving the cottage. It took several nights and many exchanges until Corina had a plan to propose. Every evening, Zenobia took it upon herself to "pet" both Arlene and Corina. Arlene's laughter was loud and desperate and boisterous, and Zenobia took great pleasure in tickling her.
The plan was simple in its audacity. Corina, fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, explained it to Arlene in whispers, the candle flame casting their faces in a warm, dancing light.
"She needs to be 'persuaded' to let us go," Corina said, her voice filled with determination.
Arlene, however, looked dubious. "You need only see her face when she is 'petting' you. There's no reasoning with that."
"Then we will show her our defiance," Corina said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But first, I will need more magic. She drains us, but not completely. If I can take whatever you have, we might have a chance."
Arlene’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear in her gaze. "You know I'm deathly ticklish," she said, her voice a low murmur. "You've heard me at her mercy. I am ashamed to say that if any duelist knew my weakness it would be exploited. I laugh like a madwoman. I embarrass myself."
Corina smiled gently. "Trust me," she said, grasping a thread and proposing to tie and gag Arlene. The swordswoman nodded reluctantly and held out her hands. Corina took the thread and tied expert knots, binding and gagging her.
The wood elf attacked her friend's bare body with efficiency and gusto. She worked her sides and feet, discovering the soles toward the center under the arch and her underarms were her most vulnerable spots.
Arlene screamed and laughed into the gag, the sound a mixture of terror and delight. She thrashed against Corina's hold, her legs and arms flailing despite the heavy thread, but Corina held on. The laughter became a frantic, desperate thing, and Corina felt a surge of raw, untamed magic pour into her. She pulled back just as Arlene was on the verge of tears, the human woman panting, her face a bright red.
"You said you'd be quick," Arlene gasped.
"I was," Corina said simply, already feeling the potent magic thrumming through her veins. "Now for the second part of the plan."
Under the cover of Zenobia’s thunderous snores, the two women crept out of the drawer. The room was a massive, looming landscape of furniture and shadows. Corina, now with a decent amount of magic, began to cast her spell. A shimmering web, far larger and more powerful than the one she had cast in the safe house, began to take form.
Her web bound Zenobia's ankles, and her giant bare feet towered over them with their huge toes. Both were eager to answer the questions they needed to know. Would the webs hold, and would the giant prison keeper even be ticklish?
The first question was answered in part when the giant woman started to move in her sleep. The webs had at least held her ankles firmly in place.
Racing to the top of the bed and fearful that Zenobia would awake, they raced to her head, closer than ever to her ever-so-loud snoring. Corina quickly cast more web spells on her wrists, effectively holding her down. Zenobia moved in her sleep, but she was held in place.
Corina signaled to her friend, and Alrene raced down to the base of the bed where the huge feet were bound by webs. Corina waved to Arlene from the top of the bed, and she began to tickle the huge soles with a vengeance, remembering the times Zenobia had tickled her.
Zenobia started to chuckle, and she started to pull against the restraints. Corina stood near Zenobia’s face and watched a smile appear on her face as she chuckled. Suddenly though, her eyes snapped open.
"What is this? What is going on?" she boomed. "You dare do this to me? What a naughty little butterfly you are!"
Arlene stopped as they planned to give Corina an opportunity to negotiate.
"Release us," Corina demanded. "You can release us, and we can leave this dream world."
"I can," Zenobia said. "But I refuse."
"We will tickle you until you feel differently," Corina said, signaling to Arlene.
Arlene resumed the tickling in earnest.
Zenobia started laughing hard and uncontrollably. Corina was certain the giant woman would have to fold. It was only a matter of time. And a matter of the web holding.
With such violent pulling, the webs did not hold, and Zenobia broke free.
"Trying to run away?" she asked as she saw Corina and Arlene flee. "There is nowhere to hide," she boomed. "Tricky, tricky little butterflies."
Corina and Arlene hid, but she was right. There was nowhere to hide. They were not fast enough to evade her butterfly net and her smoker, which she somehow had ready and operating, flooding the nooks and crannies where they tried to hide.
Corina felt a crushing grip on her shoulders, and suddenly she was pulled up to eye level. Arlene was held captive in the woman’s other hand.
"Naughty, naughty butterflies!" Zenobia said, pleased. She took them both to her desk and pinned them both down with pins, leaving them both exposed.
Zenobia took a huge feather and began to run it along the bottoms of Corina's feet and then her sides.
Corina screamed and laughed until she thought she would pass out from the sheer physical stress of it all. The laughter and screams were a cacophony of fear and desperation. Zenobia then moved onto Arlene, who also shrieked and laughed with terror, her body convulsing with the unbearable tickling.
After what felt like a full day, Zenobia was satisfied. "So tricky, my butterflies," she smirked. "I will be extra careful to make certain you are extra drained each evening. No more hope. Once you realize that, you will make it much easier on yourselves."
Zenobia went off to sleep while the two friends looked at each other, wondering if they had any hope to escape.
To be continued...
"The Dreamer"
The trio had traveled for perhaps three hours into the forest when the sky, without warning, turned a bruised purple. Sheets of cold rain began to fall, battering the forest floor despite the thick tree canopy. The gentle streams of the Mirthwood Forest swelled into angry, churning torrents, and the threat of a flash flood loomed large, swallowing the sounds of their splashing footsteps.
"We need to find shelter!" Corina cried, her voice barely audible over the roaring wind.
Thisdraeda nodded grimly. Her strong dwarven instincts for finding safe places kicked in, and she plunged ahead toward a rocky outcrop. Within moments, she found an abandoned dwarven safehouse, a squat stone structure half-swallowed by the earth and overgrown with moss. The front door was gone, leaving a gaping hole.
"This place will give us some shelter," she announced, motioning for them to follow.
They scrambled inside just as the worst of the storm hit. The wind howled, and the rain battered the doorway with a furious rhythm. Corina, shivering from the cold, raised her hands and began to cast a web spell on the entrance. With immense difficulty, a shimmering, translucent web formed, stretching from stone to stone and sealing the opening.
"It needs to be better than that," Thisdraeda said, pointing to the water seeping through the magical threads. The wind and rain seemed to tear at the temporary fix, its magical threads fraying under the assault.
"I'm out of magic," Corina declared, her hands falling to her sides in exhaustion. "I'd need more to seal it up."
"I didn't have much to start with," Thisdraeda grumbled, "and the Inquisitor took what little I had."
Corina and Thisdraeda looked up at Rika pensively, a silent, desperate question passing between them.
"No, no, no," Rika said defensively, taking a step back. "I didn't escape one magic-milking place just to find another."
"I'll just take what I need," Corina pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "A strong enough web, and I guarantee we'll be dry and safe until the storm blows over."
"I'm a tinkerer, not a magic battery," Rika scoffed. "And you need quite a bit for a spell like that."
"I need what I need," Corina replied, "but it's that or we all risk being miserable at best or dead at worst."
Rika's reptilian eyes narrowed. "I don't know," she said, a flicker of fear in her gaze. "I'm a screamer and a kicker, and my tail has a mind of its own when I am tickled."
"I don't have enough magic for another web," Corina declared. "This, can you hold her still, tail and all, while I go about getting what we need?"
The dwarf flexed her thick arms. "If I can't do it, no one can."
"I didn't say yes," Rika said nervously.
Corina offered a small, reassuring smile. "Say yes, Rika."
Rika gulped with difficulty, but she nodded. In an instant, she was on the ground, and Thisdraeda, acting on instinct, used her superior strength to pin the kobold's reptilian body in a series of arm locks, controlling her flailing tail with her powerful arms.
"You never said it was going to be like this," Rika said, her voice strained. "I feel helpless and vulnerable."
"We need your magic, Rika," Corina reminded her, her voice gentle. "Say yes, and I promise it will be short and sweet."
Rika nodded again, a tremor running through her small frame.
Corina knelt beside the kobold and darted a finger toward her sides, expecting a hard, scaly surface. To her surprise, the skin there was as soft and pliable as anyone else's. She kneaded with expert precision, and the result was immediate. Rika screamed for mercy instantly, the sound a mix of uncontrollable laughter and tears. The laughter, however, was not the sound of pure joy. It was frantic and desperate, a chaotic release of raw magical energy.
Rika, who did not wear boots, was completely vulnerable. Corina grabbed one of her legs, expecting the soles to be hard and calloused, but they were soft, sensitive, and, thankfully, incredibly ticklish. Corina felt magic course into her, a deep, potent surge of power. She was glad to see that the well was deep and that she could draw what she needed without having to push the kobold too far. With the renewed magical energy coursing through her veins, Corina knew she could cast a spell that would hold strong against the storm's fury.
She cast the spell and the web that was being battered by the storm was sufficiently reinforced that the entrance was fully protected from the ongoing storm outside.
The safehouse was large enough that they could find a dry space. Rika took some old logs and chopped some to sit on and some to use as firewood.
With a simple cantrip, Corina had lit the room, and with another, she lit the fireplace. The flames danced, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. It wasn't long until the safehouse was warm. They removed their clothes and let them dry near the fire while they ate from Corina's mushroom provisions.
The three sat together and ate the provisions in a comfortable silence.
"They are not as bad as I thought," Rika commented, chewing slowly.
"I still would prefer some dwarven steak smothered in dwarven butter with a sprig of rosemary and a tall jug of mead to wash it all down," Thisdraeda grumbled.
"Sarantha is a vegetarian," Corina commented. "As are most wood elves."
"Blah," Thisdraeda commented with obvious repulsion. "You don't get muscles like these off of grass and mushrooms."
"The sheep and cattle you eat got their muscle grazing," Corina observed.
"Let's refrain from arguing," Rika said trying to keep the peace. "But if you ever wondered, kobolds are omnivorous. We can and will eat just about anything."
They looked at each other and laughed, the sound of the storm raging outside a distant memory.
Corina told them in depth how her adventure had started with her fateful speech, followed by being robbed and abandoned by Drash and then captured by Mistress Sarantha and then taken under her care and trained in the arcane arts.
They looked at her intently, admiring her story.
Thisdraeda looked around the room as if looking for something.
"It just ain't right to be in here and just have this dry mushroom mush to eat and nothing to wash it down with. This was an abandoned dwarf safehouse. They usually keep a hidden niche around. Sometimes they are forgotten."
Thisdraeda searched the walls of the shelter carefully. It seemed she was wasting her time until she found a brick that moved. She pulled it out with her enormous strength, and behind it was the hidden niche. The supplies were spoiled, but there was a decent axe which she quickly appropriated and four old bottles of dwarven spirits.
"The rations are centuries old and long since spoiled," she explained, blowing centuries-old dust off of the bottles. "These dwarven spirits have aged for centuries and are a rare treat. We can't let them go to waste."
She pulled the cork off of each and handed a bottle to each.
Both Corina and Rika looked dubiously at the bottles.
"How can you know it is not spoiled?" Corina asked, sniffing the liquor and wrinkling her nose.
"Trust me, lasses," Thisdraeda declared. "You will never again taste anything quite like this again." She held out the bottom of her bottle, prompting the other two to click theirs against hers in an act of toasting.
Reluctantly, they clicked against Thisdraeda and they paused as the dwarf put her head back and drank deeply of the bottle.
"By my dwarven ancestors," she declared. "This is smooth as a rock slide and powerful like the thunderstorm raging outside. Drink up, lasses. I'll be keeping the last one for meself. I am a dwarf after all. Drink up and drink deeply."
Corina sipped timidly. It reminded her of elfish brandy at the end of the harvest season only harsher and more bold. It smelled powerful and its taste persisted on her tongue and in her mouth. A pleasant warmth ran through her body almost instantly and any remaining chill she felt vanished.
Rika also sipped at first and then she began to take more bold swigs of the bottle as the warmth spread through her.
"You're off to become a great sorceress, you say?" Thisdraeda asked Corina as she quickly downed the bottle. "What happens after you become this great sorceress? I mean you already are somewhat of a sorceress. What happens after?"
"I haven't thought about that," Corina admitted feeling it easier about the subject. "I think I really wanted to get away from my life in Woodhaven. I didn't want to be there my whole life doing the same thing every single day. An elf's life is long and prone to adopt habits and traditions that help the years go by. I didn't want that for me. So, I don't know what happens after. As bad as that might seem."
"Bah," Rika said taking another long draught from her bottle. "In my warren I was just a cog in the system. A clever engineer when it was convenient, a magic battery when the shaman needed a quick burst of magic. Either way I was just a tool. I escaped and even though I fell captive to the dwarves, I found purpose. Now, I want to look far and wide and engineer new things for the world. Not as a cog in the kobold community and not as a captive to the dwarves. I want to make something that is me."
They looked at each other and took drinks from their bottles. As Rika and Corina drained theirs, Thisdraeda was on her second bottle.
"And you, This?" Corina asked. "What happens to you once you complete your debt?"
"It's all about honor and respect," Thisdraeda said with a sad tone. "I've fought long and hard to repair the reputation of my family. The Thistleboons committed the ultimate treason. Cowardice. And for generations we've tried to revert that. The rest still see us and consider us lesser and no amount of courage seems to sway them from that. I swear that I will be the most courageous and most daring and one day they will say the name Thistleboon and remember us with pride."
"Quite a trio, aren't we," Corina said. "The three of us out on our way trying to find our place in the world."
"Fate has brought us together," Rika said. "It is not pure chance. I was not by chance you were robbed by that human Drash. Fate led you to Sarantha and fate led you to the Interrogation room. We are bound together the three of us."
The three drained the bottles and a drunken stupor overcame them.
Dwarven spirits soaked their dreams. All dwarven spirits can have dream altering effects. Centuries old spirits are notorious for this. The bottles Thisdraeda found however, were centuries old, when they had been stashed, making them at the time of their opening a potent elixir that should have been taken in extreme moderation.
The three women slept soundly around the fireplace. Thisdraeda's deep snore overcasting Rika and Corina's lighter snoring. The storm continued on beyond them though they were fully oblivious to the world.
They slept and they dreamed spirit soaked dreams.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina dreamed.
In her dream, she was walking a familiar path through the Mirthwood Forest, the purple of her robes a striking contrast to the deep green of the ancient trees. But as she rounded a bend, the path opened into a strange glade she had never seen before. It was unnervingly beautiful, a wide field of emerald grasses.
As she stepped into the glade, a curious thing happened: the blades of grass began to grow. With every step she took, they reached higher, climbing past her knees, her waist, then her shoulders, until they towered over her like the canopy of a forest. She turned back, but her way was gone, swallowed by a rippling sea of green. She was trapped, the tall grasses swaying around her with no clear path in any direction.
Suddenly, a circle of blinding light pierced the gloom above. A gigantic magnifying glass descended, its flawless glass reflecting the immense, curious eye that peered down at her from beyond it. "What a pretty little butterfly!" a booming, melodious voice declared, and Corina felt a primal jolt of terror at the sheer size and casual tone of the observer.
She bolted, pushing her way through the thick stalks, the sound of her frantic breathing lost in the rustling grass.
"Nuts, the pretty butterfly is trying to get away!" the loud voice declared, a hint of amused frustration in its tone.
A massive net, woven from thick, coarse threads, descended slowly from the heavens. It was like a cloud descending to capture her, and she felt a sickening sense of inevitability as it scooped her up from the field. Caught within the tight weave, she struggled, her dagger fumbling at her belt.
"Ah dear, so pretty and so feisty," the voice said, as the net was hoisted effortlessly upward, brought closer and closer to the colossal magnifying glass.
Corina thrashed, her heart pounding against her ribs, and reached for her dagger to cut a hole in the net. But before she could, a plume of thick, heavy smoke billowed down from above, filling the net and her lungs.
"Sleep smoke," the voice said, its tone now calm and knowing. "Good for the bees, good for the butterflies."
A deep weariness settled over her. She struggled to stay awake, her eyelids growing heavy, her limbs feeling like lead. The world blurred, swaying with her body, until she finally surrendered to the peaceful, overwhelming darkness, falling into the depths of the net, sound asleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina awoke naked, suspended in a strange, disorienting stillness. She was pinned to a giant cork board, spread-eagled like a captured insect. Pins, thick as a human thumb, went through her wrists and ankles, yet the sensation was not one of pain but of a cool, firm pressure. She felt weightless, a specimen held in place for study.
A shadow fell over her, and then a colossal face loomed into view, blotting out the light of an oil lamp that rested over her. It was a human woman with a wide, gentle smile and a cascade of long, dark curls. She wore spectacles that gleamed with light, and she used a massive magnifying glass to study Corina with an unsettling intensity. The woman's eye, magnified to the point where Corina could see a swirling universe of brown and gold.
"My dear, dear butterfly!" the woman declared, her voice a loud and booming sound.
"You are exquisite, an unusual find in my garden," she said. "I am Miss Zenobia Nottle and I am adding you to my collection."
"I am Corina of Woodhaven," Corina shouted out loud.
Zenobia Nottle shook her head in what appeared to Corina to be mock disappointment. "I hear the faintest whisper," she said as if she could not hear the wood elf. "I assume you are not happy with your predicament. None in my collection really are. But the collection is important, and you will be displayed for many seasons to come, while if I let you go, you will die and fade and be lost to time."
Corina looked at the collection. There were a myriad of boards that lined the walls with butterflies, but also many other fantastic creatures. Jars of every size and color lined the shelves, and their colorful contents were labeled with handwritten notes.
Zenobia reached for a jar that only contained brushes and took out what appeared to be a very small brush, which to Corina looked huge. "I've heard some specimens take quite well to this," she said with a pleased smile as she ran the brush along Corina's sides and underarms. The sensation was a bizarre mix of torment and pure ticklish sensations. Corina screamed and laughed and shook against the pins, but they held steady.
"See how happy they become?" Zenobia said, pleased as she drew the brush over Corina's bare feet. "No more protests. You just needed some petting."
The "petting" went on for some time as Zenobia shifted between ticklish spots, brushing intently Corina's underarms and belly. The wood elf twisted and turned as strong as she could, but the pins held her tight, and she was slowly drained until she was fully subdued.
Corina hung drained and exhausted, the last of her laughter and tears fading into a hollow ache.
It seemed her fatigue was contagious, as Zenobia yawned and stretched. She placed Corina, still pinned to the board, on her desk. "We'll continue to work on you tomorrow," Zenobia promised. "I find the new ones need more attention when they are first captured."
The giant woman removed her glasses and undressed behind a dressing screen, removing her bright dress with floral print and returning from behind the screen in slippers and wearing a white night time shift.
She put out the lamp that was illuminating the room, and the faint glow of the moon outside illuminated the room ever so slightly.
From her position, Corina could see the giant woman pull the covers and sheets off of her giant bed, and she lay down. Corina could finally see her huge bare soles poke out from under the covers, and she slowly began to move less and less until she was motionless.
Zenobia began to snore. Her snores were deep and rumbled loud, shaking the air of the small cottage room they were in.
Corina sighed in desperation. She was progressing through the Mirthwood, only to be captured and tickled at every turn. She pulled harder at her pinned wrists and ankles, but she could not come free. It was not painful as she believed it probably should have been, but it was holding her fast.
Exhausted, she let sleep slowly come, and even with the loud, thundering snoring, she fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corina felt a finger draw itself slowly up and down on the sole of her left foot.
She awoke immediately, a giggle rising in her throat, and tried to pull away, only to find she was still firmly pinned to the board. Her eyes darted down, and she saw a small, naked figure, not much bigger than herself, at her foot. She was human, with long dark black hair that cascaded down her back. Her cream-colored body was strong and toned, and her wrists and ankles bore small, dark holes where pins had once been—just like the ones currently holding Corina. The figure met her gaze, held a finger to her lips, and then began to move with a quiet, practiced ease.
The woman first loosened the pin in Corina's right ankle, then the left. She climbed the cork board with the nimble grace of a cat, moving toward Corina's wrists. She pulled on one pin and whispered softly. "Hold on to me as I pull the last one free."
Corina, feeling the terrifying pull of gravity, wrapped an arm around the strange woman. She hung onto her as the woman climbed carefully down. Finally on the ground, the woman still kept to a strict silence. She led Corina to a nearby drawer, slightly ajar, which seemed to be her home. Inside, the space was dimly lit by a teacup-sized candle she had repurposed. The drawer was a home, with a small wooden spool of thread serving as a table with a coin on top and a couple of other spools set out as improvised chairs. A nest of frayed ribbons served as a bed.
"It is simple," the woman said, "but I like to think it is cozy."
Corina was marveled by the ingenuity of the hidden lair.
"I am Arlene Denievue, First Battle Mistress of Beaufort," the human said, her voice a low and confident murmur. "I am the greatest duelist in all of Westmere."
"I am Corina of Woodhaven, disciple of Mistress Sarantha."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Arlene said holding out her hand. "I have grown adept at removing and replacing the pins. I will teach you. Zenobia sleeps deep and long into the morning, so this time is for us. We can talk, eat, and rest before returning to the board in time for her to wake."
"Where are we?" Corina asked taking Arlene's hand in hers and feeling the human's tight and confident grip.
"Did you drink of dwarf spirits?" Arlene asked, her voice low.
"Yes, old spirits I assume."
"Ancient," Arlene said, her tone grave. "Dwarf spirits are notorious for bringing on strange dreams. My theory is that drinking too much of an ancient brew will pull you into a dream. We have been pulled into this shared dream, and we can be trapped here for weeks or years. Indefinitely."
Corina shuddered. "How long have you been here?"
"A full season has passed since I arrived," Arlene said, her eyes distant. "I was drinking with my kin to celebrate my nineteenth won duel and awoke here. I've been alone all this time. Together, I hope we can plan an escape."
"How do you know for certain this is a dream?" Corina asked.
Arlene showed her wrists. A small, dark hole went from one side to the other, but there was no wound and no bleeding. "This is not from our world," she said. "Do you remember exactly how you arrived here? You recall the dwarven spirits, and that is your last memory, as it is mine. This, my dear friend, is us soaked in dwarven spirits, searching for a way to wake up."
"And if we do not escape?" Corina asked, her voice a faint whisper.
"I have heard that you awaken when you break free of the dream," Arlene said. "Be that a day, a week, a year, or a century." She shrugged. "Perhaps we share the same brew, and we now share the same dreamscape. I cannot say. But I can tell you that until I found you, I was alone."
"I've tried everything," Arlene said, her voice a low murmur that filled the small space. "The doors, the windows, even the gap in the chimney. You can walk right up to them, feel the cool air, see the impossible world outside, but you can't step through. It's like walking into nothing, a solid wall of void. There's no pushing through it, no force that can break it. It just... is."
She took a deep breath, her gaze distant as she recounted her months-long frustration. "I tried with my fists. I tried with a makeshift tool. Nothing worked. It's not a prison of wood and stone; it's a cage of pure magic. Our freedom isn't waiting for us at the exit. We're trapped by the spirits we drank, not by the walls of this place."
Corina listened intently, then a flicker of determination ignited in her eyes. "You were alone," she said. "You've only had your own strength and knowledge to rely on. But I'm an aspiring sorceress, and I have magic to help us see things you might not have been able to. I have a different set of skills. We'll figure this out, together. The walls might not break, but we will find the way out."
The two friends began to cooperate. Arlene taught Corina how to remove and replace the pins so Zenobia would not be the wiser. When Zenobia left to find new specimens, Arlene showed Corina the invisible barrier, a smooth, unyielding wall that prevented them from leaving the cottage. It took several nights and many exchanges until Corina had a plan to propose. Every evening, Zenobia took it upon herself to "pet" both Arlene and Corina. Arlene's laughter was loud and desperate and boisterous, and Zenobia took great pleasure in tickling her.
The plan was simple in its audacity. Corina, fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, explained it to Arlene in whispers, the candle flame casting their faces in a warm, dancing light.
"She needs to be 'persuaded' to let us go," Corina said, her voice filled with determination.
Arlene, however, looked dubious. "You need only see her face when she is 'petting' you. There's no reasoning with that."
"Then we will show her our defiance," Corina said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But first, I will need more magic. She drains us, but not completely. If I can take whatever you have, we might have a chance."
Arlene’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear in her gaze. "You know I'm deathly ticklish," she said, her voice a low murmur. "You've heard me at her mercy. I am ashamed to say that if any duelist knew my weakness it would be exploited. I laugh like a madwoman. I embarrass myself."
Corina smiled gently. "Trust me," she said, grasping a thread and proposing to tie and gag Arlene. The swordswoman nodded reluctantly and held out her hands. Corina took the thread and tied expert knots, binding and gagging her.
The wood elf attacked her friend's bare body with efficiency and gusto. She worked her sides and feet, discovering the soles toward the center under the arch and her underarms were her most vulnerable spots.
Arlene screamed and laughed into the gag, the sound a mixture of terror and delight. She thrashed against Corina's hold, her legs and arms flailing despite the heavy thread, but Corina held on. The laughter became a frantic, desperate thing, and Corina felt a surge of raw, untamed magic pour into her. She pulled back just as Arlene was on the verge of tears, the human woman panting, her face a bright red.
"You said you'd be quick," Arlene gasped.
"I was," Corina said simply, already feeling the potent magic thrumming through her veins. "Now for the second part of the plan."
Under the cover of Zenobia’s thunderous snores, the two women crept out of the drawer. The room was a massive, looming landscape of furniture and shadows. Corina, now with a decent amount of magic, began to cast her spell. A shimmering web, far larger and more powerful than the one she had cast in the safe house, began to take form.
Her web bound Zenobia's ankles, and her giant bare feet towered over them with their huge toes. Both were eager to answer the questions they needed to know. Would the webs hold, and would the giant prison keeper even be ticklish?
The first question was answered in part when the giant woman started to move in her sleep. The webs had at least held her ankles firmly in place.
Racing to the top of the bed and fearful that Zenobia would awake, they raced to her head, closer than ever to her ever-so-loud snoring. Corina quickly cast more web spells on her wrists, effectively holding her down. Zenobia moved in her sleep, but she was held in place.
Corina signaled to her friend, and Alrene raced down to the base of the bed where the huge feet were bound by webs. Corina waved to Arlene from the top of the bed, and she began to tickle the huge soles with a vengeance, remembering the times Zenobia had tickled her.
Zenobia started to chuckle, and she started to pull against the restraints. Corina stood near Zenobia’s face and watched a smile appear on her face as she chuckled. Suddenly though, her eyes snapped open.
"What is this? What is going on?" she boomed. "You dare do this to me? What a naughty little butterfly you are!"
Arlene stopped as they planned to give Corina an opportunity to negotiate.
"Release us," Corina demanded. "You can release us, and we can leave this dream world."
"I can," Zenobia said. "But I refuse."
"We will tickle you until you feel differently," Corina said, signaling to Arlene.
Arlene resumed the tickling in earnest.
Zenobia started laughing hard and uncontrollably. Corina was certain the giant woman would have to fold. It was only a matter of time. And a matter of the web holding.
With such violent pulling, the webs did not hold, and Zenobia broke free.
"Trying to run away?" she asked as she saw Corina and Arlene flee. "There is nowhere to hide," she boomed. "Tricky, tricky little butterflies."
Corina and Arlene hid, but she was right. There was nowhere to hide. They were not fast enough to evade her butterfly net and her smoker, which she somehow had ready and operating, flooding the nooks and crannies where they tried to hide.
Corina felt a crushing grip on her shoulders, and suddenly she was pulled up to eye level. Arlene was held captive in the woman’s other hand.
"Naughty, naughty butterflies!" Zenobia said, pleased. She took them both to her desk and pinned them both down with pins, leaving them both exposed.
Zenobia took a huge feather and began to run it along the bottoms of Corina's feet and then her sides.
Corina screamed and laughed until she thought she would pass out from the sheer physical stress of it all. The laughter and screams were a cacophony of fear and desperation. Zenobia then moved onto Arlene, who also shrieked and laughed with terror, her body convulsing with the unbearable tickling.
After what felt like a full day, Zenobia was satisfied. "So tricky, my butterflies," she smirked. "I will be extra careful to make certain you are extra drained each evening. No more hope. Once you realize that, you will make it much easier on yourselves."
Zenobia went off to sleep while the two friends looked at each other, wondering if they had any hope to escape.
To be continued...
