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21 — Corpse Garden

Afternoon light leaked into the decaying tavern, and Rennia shielded her eyes from the sunrays blasting through holes in the rooftop. She stood in fresh clothing, clad in some dead adventurer’s gambeson. Ishmere had assured her that ownership issues were no longer a problem, nor would it smell since someone had stored it away for years ago. It did, however, smell of dust and old wood.

She sheathed her sword in the belt around her waist. While she lacked a shield, she had improvised by taking an old black metal pot as a makeshift one. It was a dumb idea in retrospect, but she didn’t have much choice or reason not to. Cloth armor made her uncomfortable.

Ishmere watched her, arms folded, hovering off the floor. Her ethereal form appeared practically solid at the moment–less hovering cloud, more stern and angry woman. While she wasn’t naked, her semi-erect cock was hard to ignore. Rennia found her sexual mania absolutely disgusting, and to add to her disgust, Ishmere circled her like an impatient cat.

“Well, are you going to get a move on or what? I see zero reason for all this effort. Just run into the cave where I hid it. Get it out, come back, and then we do the ritual.”

Rennia stared at her, frowning. “You said nothing about a damn cave. You just said it was north of here, in the forest out there, and you think I’m supposed to go unarmed?”

The ghost shrugged. “Of course not, my dear Rennia. But you have no skill with a shield, much less a pot lid. My body should be light as a feather. You might not need the lid at all. Just go find body and run back.”

“What happens if I fail to find your body? What then?”

“I guess I’ll just revert into a sex-crazed specter, start forgetting my name until I can leech off the energy of some wandering beasts. Maybe I’ll lose hope, sever the connection to my body, turn into something foul, weep and haunt an unhelpful brat whose name starts with R.”

Rennia bit her lips. “Well, just point me in the right direction. Don’t waste time speaking in diatribes. Are you aware that giant rats have settled into the local area? They’re living under your tavern.”

“Rats! No. Really? That might be bad for customer perception. No matter, we’ll deal with this when I get the chance.”

Rennia shuddered at the thought of dealing with the hairy oversized rodents. She’d seen what happened when you let an infestation grow. A year of unwarranted negligence, and you could have several rat kings chewing on unsuspecting victims. Best to deal with them as soon as possible.

Rennia turned to the door, and just as she prepared to leave, she caught Ishmere stroking herself. Penis rock hard. Not seductively either. She was moving away from Rennia, hovering off the ground, shamelessly doing that.

She seemed to have less control than Rennia herself, what could Rennia possibly learn from her.

She can’t be doing that. No, that was going to be a severe problem.

“Don’t do that,” Rennia shouted.

“What?”

“Stop stroking. This is supposed to be a public lobby. What if you do this when you have your body back? You want to run a tavern. What if you stroke in public?”

“I’m falling apart, Rennia.” Her voice cracked. “There’s no one here but you. Clinging to old desires keeps me awake.”

Rennia’s face heated up, but she swore up and down that this needed to be addressed. “Well, stop that. It’s distracting. I can’t help but look. Don’t do that when I get back.”

Ishmere did stop the stroking, but then started mock crying instead. Rennia watched the spirit climb into a round table and stick her head through it, weeping about bygone days.

Rennia shook her head, then stared at the wall. A tab stuck to a ledger displayed names printed for nights unpaid and unaddressed. She wondered if these were the names of the cadavers in the room. She wondered if that was why the ghost was crying. Perhaps she had companionship with each and everyone of them.

She shrugged it off and stepped out the doorway.

The trail into the woods was narrow, almost overgrown. A clear path used to exist here, but Rennia could see the remnants: little bits of the path, almost too clear. Cobblestone and chipped-off wooden bits of a sign. It posed danger for a lost traveler, probably even her. The density of the trees would kill an inexperienced person overnight–and she meant without the intervention of monster.

It triggered a traumatic memory for Rennia. It had happened when she was kindling learner. She had gotten ahead of herself and cocky too. She and Lyanna had gone foraging for Maelstorm flowers at the backside of Kibblestadt, where the trees grew dense and the forest seemed to whisper to naughty idiots brats such as them. Typically, teachers instructed them to mark their direction so they could remember the way they came–almost every quarter mile, a significant and observable mark. She had forgotten to do that. One thing led to another, and someone had found her starving on the ground at 3 in the escort beşiktaş morning. She guessed it was telling in a way. Her excursions with friends to dungeons, tundras, and open steppes had been great, but forests seemed like her bane.

She put the memory out of her head. Let bygones be bygones. She couldn’t make the same mistake. She had taken the effort to carve the numbers 1, 2, 3 into trees. Although she could see the tavern from here, she didn’t want to deal with being lost.

The trees wept thick sap that smelled like old sweetened honey. Birds chirped in rhythm. But she had seen no sign of any immediate large animal or little wild goblin men. The cave was supposed to be no more than another half mile ahead.

The forest had an uncanny aspect. It wasn’t quiet–no, and that threw her off. No prowling monster or predator lurked in the vicinity, just nothing. She pushed through thick underbrush and then stopped.

In front of her stood a rock-like structure, likely a natural formation. It was hollow from the outside; not much sunlight penetrated inside, but she could see just fine. That had to be the cave, though it wasn’t much of one.

She walked forward, stepping on something. A branch. It snapped. She stared down at the weirdly spaced grass. Something big had moved here, something about the size from her feet to her chest. Couldn’t be a deer. No, too many prints existed. More likely a crowd of warthogs or something. But it looked like it had carried something.

She followed the tracks into the cave, half cringing at what she was doing. Certainly a death sentence. She moved deeper, slowly taking a step into the dark interior. A skeleton lay against the wall, half of its bones missing and its jaw mostly dislocated. Another, goblin-sized, with a very big club next to it, lay lifeless, its skeletal hand reaching out for the weapon.

She stepped deeper.

A bear. Or some kind of wendigo. That was reason enough to retreat. Anything that hunted sentients posed a severe threat, a threat that any party might struggle with. Yet she was curious and confident that she needed to get it over with.

Turning into another chamber past the damp tunnel of the cave, she stopped cold.

There, mid-air, hung a body frozen in place, eyes wide open, half floating and stuck between webbing. It was Ishmere’s physical body. Bare and seemingly still full of life. It breathed in and out, but no light shone in her eyes. Rennia’s was suprised at the appearance, it seemed very much like a construct or a doll. And the more smaller tits did catch eye, so did the penis. It was a work of art.

She snapped out of it.

Rennia looked around. A giant spider must have kept her here near the corpse. Most were nocturnal or stayed internal. It didn’t seem to be around.

She made haste. She started cutting at the webbing, making sure to start with the highest points, forcing the webbing to sag and let the body drop. Rennia grimaced as the body floated to the ground. Cutting through the last parts of the webbing, she didn’t waste time on moral and ethical thoughts and picked Ishmere up from the ground. The corpse twitched but didn’t respond any more than that. The body was lightweight, like someone had drained all the weight from her, but it showed no sign of malnourishment. She was perfectly healthy.

How was that possible.

Rennia put her on her back, tied her resting arms around her shoulder. Since changing and morphing, Rennia’s new physique had proven physically helpful, though that just made her more self-conscious. If her body was pushing her into being the thicker, stronger [warrior], why didn’t Ishmere look like that?

Her [Sixth sense] alerted her. It also leveled up, but the living system could wait.

[Sixth Sense lvl 2] > [Sixth Sense lvl 3]

Then she heard movement behind her.

A spider stood there. Massive, almost the size of Tiamael’s horse. Pale white, like Ishmere’s hair. Its limbs were segmented, twitching and slamming on the ground. It clicked at her, spat on the ground. Venom burned where she had stood a moment ago, and then it went still, watching her.

It turned to her and to where Ishmere’s corpse had been.

Rennia the pot lid on the ground grabbed her sword in her left hand and ran like hell.

22 — The Chase

Rennia sprinted through the woods, trying to match the forest trail she had come from. Ishmere’s naked and limp body bounced on her shoulder–surprisingly light and as floppy as cloth. The forest had grown dense since she’d ventured deeper.

Behind her, the monstrous meter-and-a-half spider gave pursuit, its mandibles clattering together and long limbs skittering across the ground as it stalked her. Its body was far too wide to traverse between the trees easily, though its strength allowed it to force its way through. It shrieked as she ran.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” she shouted to the thing behind her, her weapon clasped in her non-dominant hand. escort nişantaşı It rattled it’s mandibles in response.

It spat sticky web balls at her. The splattered spheres decorated the ground in wide swaths of asymmetrical cobwebs. Her skill [Sixth Thread] activated–a funny sensation, like her nerves compelling her to move in a certain direction. Rennia jumped sideways and narrowly missed one large mass of webs. She kept running forward, though her eyes occasionally drifted to Ishmere’s body. This was no time for such distractions.

The trees stood several meters away. Marking them had given her a significant advantage, so she seized the opportunity to slip behind one and dash to another. The path ahead was paved, and she was significantly faster than the creature. The tavern wasn’t far from here. She might make it to the Ebon Guild in time, but then what–could Ishmere deal with it in her current state, or would she have to hide in the basement?

Rennia burst from the treeline, nearly tripping and dragging the naked Ishmere along with her. She crashed through the tavern’s back door, slamming it shut with Ishmere’s body in tow, then collapsed to the ground, releasing both her sword and the specter’s body.

A bloody blue bruise formed along the sides of the specter’s body. She reached out to touch Ishmere’s skin, then jumped back in surprise. The spider rammed the tavern wall, one of its spindly limbs jutting through the window. It tapped the ground, and its leg smashed one of the kitchen tables to pieces. Rennia crawled backward, dragging Ishmere’s limp body with her.

The actual Ishmere materialized out of nowhere–smoky, with sharp eyes full of irritation.

“What the hell did you bring to my tavern? And look–you bruised my body!”

“I did no such thing! Why didn’t you tell me the body was being kept in a fucking spider’s cave? It nearly chomped me to death. Can’t you do something about it?” Rennia shouted at her.

“What! I can barely exist in this state, and you want me to cast spells!” she rebutted.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t fight that thing!”

The spider slammed again, and a beam cracked overhead. A chair crashed to the ground, and a protective glyph suddenly surrounded the tavern.

“Why couldn’t you lead it somewhere else? I’m tethered to this place. Do you have any idea how long it took to anchor this location? You let that thing touch my tavern and soon it will thrash my wards!”

A piece of rooftop debris threatened to fall from above. Rennia dove over the lifeless body and bore the pain of the falling roof.

“Do something, Ishmere, or it will chomp me to death!”

Ishmere floated like a judge and folded her arms. “This is going to mess me up for days. But fine, if you can’t handle a simple beast like this.”

Rennia didn’t care what it took or what Ishmere was capable of. She wanted to be free of the spider immediately. She couldn’t deal with it–it was easily a Silver-level threat, something you’d ask the guards at Kibblestadt to handle, or a large party. This was suicide. She couldn’t risk facing it. She shifted toward the basement, dragging the body.

“You don’t get it, Rennia. I’m bound by rules and restrictions, much like a djinn. I need you to beg.” Ishmere spoke much more calmly now, but crueler too.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Rennia asked, dumbfounded. “What does it matter?”

Ishmere clicked her tongue. “When it comes to magic, intention matters more than power. Specificity and meaning. I need energy, Rennia. Astral projection is a strain. I need you to offer your energy to me. I need you to ask.”

The spider’s leg smashed through the window. The ward shattered, and blue light splintered into pieces. It stopped, eyes searching for the fleeing adventurer. Rennia gripped her longsword, standing ready to parry its leg, but it didn’t strike yet. Its body was halfway stuck through the opening.

“Rennia, just… some humility. Just say please.”

Rennia began trembling but didn’t forget her fury. She didn’t submit this way unless she was psychologically damaged. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just do it. Make up a chant, anything–please, for both our sakes. I’m sorry I’m such a hardass.”

That she was.

She recalled her time with Lyanna, when she often heard Lyanna practice her spells. The intent was always different with Lyanna–it often hinged on how she felt. When Rennia learned to command fire, she didn’t care for the complexities. She chose a common phrase and stuck with it, and it worked. This was ritual magic. She would essentially be worshipping Ishmere, which was taboo where she came from. It went against everything she knew.

Rennia gave in, clenching her teeth. “Ishmere, Ishmere, tethered soul of the Ebon Gild, Ishmere, Ishmere, I give you my energy in hopes I’ll be spared by your will.”

Something changed.

“Atta girl!” The spirit began glowing blue, and Rennia felt the air sucked from her escort etiler lungs. She dropped to the ground as the sword clattered away and energy seemingly drained from her.

This, wasn’t normal. They had barely affirm a spell, she didn’t see Ishmere, prepare anything.

Ishmere lifted her hand. There was no fanfare, zero theatrics, no observable spell. Halfway into the tavern, the air distorted and a spark of light burst and bloomed in silence. Reality began to bend and the heavens started shaking. A flash of lightning struck halfway through the room from Ishmere’s palms.

The creature convulsed with electricity. The spider howled in pain as its body began jolting. Its head fell first to the ground, then its body.

Green sticky liquid burst from its abdomen, and the acrid, oily smell filled the surroundings. A massive piece of crystalline rock fell from its backside, clattering to the ground.

A [Monster Core], a very big one.

Dust fell everywhere, but the walls stopped shaking. Ishmere turned to Rennia, arms proudly at her sides, the cloudy ghost fog disappearing into thin air. More questions, no energy to ask. The spider normal, she suspected that it had drained off the immortal’s life force.

“There. We’ve preserved my floors, at least.” Her arms dropped as she looked around. “Though this is going to cost more than a couple of silver coins, isn’t it?”

Silver. She clearly hasn’t been around for too long. In her kingdom, silver has become obsolete. Gold coin standard, and inflation was ridiculous.

Rennia, exhausted and drained, stood up. She felt like she’d endured a long day of walking, even though she’d barely traveled five miles in any direction. She felt tired again, but she couldn’t sleep–not with the beast’s corpse staring at her.

“You couldn’t have done that before–“

“No. Spells need mana. Bodies generate mana. Astral projection is maintained by the body. You’re speaking to a magical construct, Rennia. If I’m thinking a bit slowly, it’s because I’m barely using my head. It’s like antenna.”

“A what?”

Antenna, Rennia never heard of the word.

“Never mind, all that ends well, ends well I guess.”

Rennia fell on her ass against the collapsed support beam, eyes locked on the specter before her. The astral-projected woman hovered over her own body, staring down at herself with cold detachment.

What irked Rennia, though, was the projection’s anatomy–specifically, the very real appearance of Ishmere’s genitals. Her penis was way smaller in reality. So were her breasts. The ghost version? Everything was exaggerated. Her tits looked bolted on, too perky and round to be natural, and her cock was easily twice the size it should’ve been.

Not that the ghost looked unattractive. Far from it. It was… cute, actually. Just–

off.

She slapped herself and closed her eyes. This goddess of eros situation was going to be detrimental. She had just engaged in sex, fled from a monster, killed rats, taken a bath, and was already thinking in lustful ways.

She had hoped the living system would reward her for surviving that encounter, but apparently not.

“There you go–your body, as requested. You’ve taken three things from me, Ishmere: my body, my energy, and my time. You better be worth all the trouble.”

Ishmere grinned at her.

“You carried me well, save for the bruise. I hope whatever agreement we form after this will benefit both of us.”

Rennia spat on the ground. Her lips were dry, and saliva wasn’t nourishment. And she was feeling a bit sick, nauseous and feverish. Perhaps rest would be good.

“This retrieval is complete. Now we’re almost done–one more thing.”

No.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. More monsters? You want me to delve deeper to find more monsters? What, did you lose your cock ring?”

Ishmere giggled. “Actually, yes, I’ve lost many. But that isn’t the problem. When I astral projected, I bound my connection with a lock–sex magic, to be specific. When this happened, I asked one of the attack survivors to help me with this. That’s why I was in that cave–it’s a long and complicated story, and I’m hoping you’ll be patient enough to wait until we’re done here.”

“Cut to the chase.”

“Long story short, I need you to fuck me.”

Rennia nearly fell on her face when Ghost Ishmere spread her own legs open. Her tight, barely parted pussy lips were visible, along with her dormant but appealing cock nearby. Rennia felt her own arousal rising again.

If staying with Ishmere meant a combination of chores, sex, and monsters, then perhaps it wasn’t so bad at all or was it. She did want adventure, she lived for that like the heroes of the old.

She wondered what they would think her, disgust perhaps.

🖤🖤 23 — Pleasing her whims

Rennia was on her knees, legs splayed in opposite directions, hands on the wooden floor, gawking at the astral spirit’s shameless obscenity. Ishmere had spread her own legs, her doll-like and dormant body in full view of Rennia.

Magical-imbued light glistened faintly along both Ishmeres but seemed to gravitate around her thighs. Rennia could feel a sense of heat emanating from both. She was left frozen, barely staying upright after the day’s ordeal. An erection had formed; she felt her cock twitch below her abdomen, slowly rising.

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