Vortex Quest Bk. 02 Ch. 07

== VORTEX QUEST 2-7 ==

== FULL STEAM AHEAD ==

The Wyvern ride was a quiet one. It took some effort to clamp their muscular legs together whenever the flying serpent made a sharper turn but the long white creature's predictably rhythm let the tired men hang together.

Chay was sandwiched between Xane and Goro, leaning on the mage's hard pecs and washboard abs, the Korean's ripped legs lightly pincering Chay's. The berserker's huge v-tapered back was sweat slick enough Chay had to grab onto the flexed obliques during sharp Wyvern turns.

Marcus was up front, practically in Goro's lap, cutting the occasional imp from the air to keep their flight near the ceiling undisturbed.

Clearly they were leaning into each other in an attempt to cuddle after sex while pretending to do it merely out of exhaustion. The umbralist didn't need his powers to tell as much.

Truthfully, Chay was doing the same. Lightly groping Goro while being Xane's little spoon let Chay keep the rumbling waves of horniness at bay that made him want to hump senselessly.

Xane had his black hair back, having managed to heal a targeted strip of follicles into a mohawk. His haircut imitated Marcus', who had his narrow pure white mohawk back, too. Goro's long hair flew openly in Phivvinum's warm-to-hot breeze.

Their destination was a 'fallen tower' -- a minor fortress in some off-the-path crevice that had been abandoned by its owner. Lord Chralloth's people had claimed it as a headquarter.

The pantheon entered with crotches shining. Chay fanned a thin layer of smoke around them in crotch-height, to keep their allies comfortable.

They were awaited by a Wretcher who introduced himself as Saan'kurr. The marble-skinned, vampire-fanged demon towered over them, wing flaps making his revealing robe flutter. Golden molt-mail was fitted onto his collarbones, draped over his pecs.

Chay did not detect veiled aggression, only curiosity and impatience. Saan'kurr was a great negotiator, the umbralist could tell, but his skills had been honed on demons -- talking to humans was a new experience.

He was accompanied by a Daemon Fiend of seven feet with his double dick making a strong imprint on his gray robe. It was an especially young one, eager to prove himself but cowardly. Also, he was horny.

"Can we have our stuff back now?" Chay asked after introductions were over.

"Certainly," Saan'kurr said and pulled their possession from his robe.

Marcus slipped into the red fundoshi, Goro into the white, silken one. Chay made sure the voidblade was safely tied to a leather belt and hung it over his shoulder.

Goro's bead string had dissolved beyond Xane's ability to mend it, too many fibers breaking away. Saan'kurr volunteered a small clasp that let Goro make himself a convenient tail on top of his head.

"With our common goal achieved," Saan'kurr said, "we can move onto the net target. Champion Loyakken claims to near completion of his vortex. His realm is small and barren but he's a technical genius so I find it plausible. Lucky for you, we have an insider."

Chay detected wariness at sharing the information but confidence in its content. Saan'kurr really believed their mission was promising.

Chay nodded. "Let's hear the details."

"I think I'm supposed to reward you with a gift first."

The unnamed demonling dropped his robes, revealing the expected top tier physique and two rapidly rising, ribbed dicks over heavy balls.

"You like nectar, don't you?" Saan'kurr said, unbearably smug. "Lick as much as you can."

Chay knew he should have shown discipline and composure, but it was as if his knees bent themselves.

===***===

Another mission, another Wyvern ride. It was a long one, too. Getting to these vortices by foot would have taken ages.

"Think of it this way," Marcus said, playfully tweaking the skin a millimeter underneath Chay's nipples. "If you have to fuck a guy, would you rather be the passive bitch getting railed or the aggressor?"

Chay slumped, partly for theatrics, partly to make Marcus "accidentally" touch his nipples. "Obviously, if you put it that way, being the voidblade user is the better choice, but the carnal craving curse sucks demon-balls."

Xane twisted around on the serpent. He had his hands out and was letting rainbow sparkles trail behind them. Not exactly inconspicuous but they were passing through sparsely populated canyons.

"You just got to keep it in mind as a finisher," the shortest demigod said. "Don't *not* use it but only when you can safely get cursed."

"I know," Chay said. "I'm not an idiot."

"I'm just letting you know I'll be there if you need to satisfy the carnal craving."

"Same," Marcus said.

"You know," Chay said with a deadpan, "it's weird how none of you seem to mind being the 'passive bitch getting railed'."

Xane flexed one arm with a smirk. "Turns out, when my dick is on vacation I like sex the lazy way."

Marcus chuckled. "'Vacation'. Fuck, I keep forgetting I *have* a dick. With the sex we've been having... It's not even sex, it doesn't compare. No pussy can get me pleasure like that. Fuck, I made myself horny."

Goro, who was at the back this time, sighed. "I need it bad."

"Same," Chay said. "This isn't sustainable. We'll have to fuck before we attack Loyakken's labs."

"We could get a head start," Xane said. He made an upward fisting gesture and Goro let out a surprise yelp that turned into a soulful groan.

Xane leaned forward, exposing his hole to Chay. "I'll pay you back on your turn."

"Goro, lube," Chay commanded.

The mania-warrior reached into his linen bag with twitching muscles, eyes crossed, and retrieved the lube. Xane had mended the rest of the voidblade's containment leather into a plasmaskin.

Chay's lubed fist glided with little trouble into Xane's hole. Inserting his hand was as close to topping as Chay got and he let himself relish the feeling of his sculpted friend falling apart around his arm.

They entered the steam-lands.

The geodes became more fractured and spiky, the aurora thick and milky, the silver shards smoother. Steam rose from geysers, some reaching the height of skyscrapers. Hot plasm shot from cracks all along the floor, walls and ceiling.

Glinting carts zoomed between struts that stood tall in the sparsely settled rockscape. A rail network in defiance of gravity, built by lost 'Mockery-tech' from a forgotten realm. Once encompassing much of the steam-lands, the rail was little more than bulk cargo transport between major nodes now.

Goro managed to get his fist into Marcus, but the Wyvern didn't let Chay and Marcus connect, too, without precariously sliding. Xane had to alternate between pleasing Chay and his gym buddy.

The total lack of warning made the experience extra fun. Chay's anticipation of entry kept him jittery, while the mage-hand finally up his ass made him relax on a level he knew at best from the rare hour-long massages he had treated himself to during his cycling heydays - plus ultra-climaxes.

"Hey Chay," Marcus said, sounding mischievous. "What happens if you summon the voidblade now? Would you tongue bath Xane's guts from inside?"

"Fuck you," Chay said. "No jokes about me and Null."

"Null?" Marcus said, confused for a second. "Nah, you can't pick a name unilaterally. I vote for 'the Gap-maker'."

"Darkslice," Goro suggested, ending with a moan as the mage-hand had a turn with him.

"Cavity," Xane said, panting. He tried to look back but Chay had half his forearm inside him. "Or Unsight, or Shadowrender, or-"

"Hole," Marcus said. "Chay, wield your Hole responsibly. Hehe."

"Seconded," Goro said.

"We'll workshop it," Chay said, rolling his eyes.

"Hole. Thirded," Xane said.

"Under consideration," Chay said and punched his fist in too hard, making Xane breathlessly screech and piss himself, spraying much of it back at Chay's legs. Revenge via mage-hand didn't take long to arrive.

===***===

Champion Loyakken's Arcano-thermic Research Lab was a mess of steam vents and leaking ectoplasm pipes growing like iron vines over the stone walls. The vortex at the center was a flickering whirlwind of blue energy, not stable yet but further advanced than Chay had hoped.

Their target, however, lay deeper.

Beneath many settlements in the abyss were Dark Chantries, where sacrifices and offering directed sustaining power to the realm's king. It was in the chantry below the lab that Lord Chralloth had allies.

It felt like walking through a dimly lit sauna. A bridge of dense coral led over a bubbling, steaming underground lake, each pillar decorated with a small demon statue and an inscription of contributions to the chantry.

Noggins made from Kobold skulls hung in the air, their burning eyes following the pantheon.

The chantry's centerpiece was a large domed room with a blood crusted altar, surrounded by piles and piles of skulls. Pentagrams were everywhere. Incense and hundreds of black candles filled the room with an impossible to pin down aroma. The air remained hot and wet.

Chay walked into the chamber first, crotch aglow. The aegises served as somewhat of an ID to their demonic ally's contacts.

The toga wearing demon at the altar was of white, marble-like skin like a Wretcher but lacking the wings and with his fanged, elfin face more shark-like.

A Scourge - the semi-aquatic, underground cousins of Wretchers.

The eight foot minor demon was accompanied by a Scourge Fiend with his muscle-packed, pale torso bare over black armor pants, a sword on the belt.

"Mlavveth," Chay said and gave a curt nod.

The adult Scourge, Mlavveth, smiled with shark teeth and vampire fangs. "Yes, you must be the slaves empowered by heaven. Here to take down Loyakken's latest brain child?"

"That's the plan."

The chantry 'priest' waved him off. "It's arranged as promised. The guards are elsewhere and my acolyte Bwogeth," he gestured at the demonling, "can take you where Figments are not meant to go."

Chay detected something strange. Mlavveth was being honest, expecting some unknown reward from Chralloth, but also holding back veiled hatred - at Loyakken. Chay didn't care about the beef but Mlavveth seemed as trustworthy as a demon could be.

The pantheon walked up a long flight of stairs, the shirtless acolyte Bwogeth in the front. Chay focused on where he was stepping, despite his magic letting him dance up stairs with ease, just so he wasn't constantly staring at the demonic back muscles that flexed with every step, begging to be touched and licked and worshipped.

Fuck, he was so fucking abyss-wrecked. He wanted nectar and a long fisting and several demon cocks inside him and muscles rubbing every inch of his body. Part of him wanted to stop wanting all that but he had been subject to more pleasure in the last day than he had ever known possible.

"So what's the plan, boss?" Marcus asked.

"Not sure," Chay said, honestly. He sensed mistrust from the acolyte. Chay continued in pandemonic to prevent doubt from festering. "I can point you to the most critical pipe or cable in any cluster we come across, but if he really wants the vortex to fail, we'll need sabotage that can't be undone in a day."

Bwogeth turned around, walking backwards. Chay had half a mind to 'accidentally' stumble and land with his face in the cut of Bwogeth's abs.

"You could strike at the heart," Bwogeth said. "There are soul stones holding *hundreds* of slaves. There's no way the champion above can recover a total loss."

"That... would be perfect," Chay said. He sensed there was more to this affair but Bwogeth seemed perfectly certain his plan was a good one and didn't exactly ooze betrayal more than the average, power-hungry youngling.

They entered a crawlway used as the laboratory's substructure. Dripping pipes ran along lichen infested walls, immense clockwork rattling behind Elderite bars. The demigods' crotch lights broke diffusely on the many hot steam clouds they passed through, leaving them and Bwogeth shining wet.

The umbralist knew how to break every machine he saw, but he had to hold back until they reached jackpot.

The sound of glass shards clanking approached rapidly.

Chay waved his friends behind him into a line. Bwogeth wasn't getting nervous so it was probably nothing.

An eight foot tall cloud of particulate matter and tiny shrapnel appeared ahead and closed in at jogging speed, its components never touching, only swirling rapidly in an unfelt storm.

The acolyte whistled at it.

No, it had been a greeting in elementic - which throats could only imitate through whistles -- the language of Gloopers, Gleamers, Glitzers and-

"It's a Guster," Chay said. "Janitor I guess. Hard to read."

"Ahead of schedule, my friend," the demonling whistled.

The Guster trilled back like zooming wind, "The guards seems to be missing. Not much for me to do."

"Master Mlavveth could probably use a cleanup if you've got the time."

"I'll see to it."

The shrapnel tornado zoomed past and Bwogeth shrugged. "We'll have some time before words gets to Loyakken about something being wrong. But we better hurry."

===***===

The first massive soul gem cluster was unguarded, just behind an iron grate Goro bent apart. Unfortunately it was surrounded by a force field powered by the stone itself - a genius construction.

The six foot block of overlapping, roughly cubic garnets full of trapped souls was impossible to touch but there were a ton of cables running out of the force field. Chay considered his options.

The leader absentmindedly rubbed his ass crack. "Breaking enough of those connections should only take a minute, but that leaves the stone itself intact and ready to use again."

Xane patted him on the belt-wearing shoulder. "Use your Hole? Maybe the blade goes through. It's immaterial."

Chay turned to the Scourge Fiend. "Would a voidblade pass the barrier?"

"No idea. I'd say it *should* but I've never seen a voidblade before."

"Try it," Xane insisted and gave Chay a punch in the back. His four butterflies were circling him like a halo.

"And suffer the curse just for an experiment? You try it."

Xane rolled his eyes. "Rock paper scissor?"

"Sure," Chay said and fought down a smile as he immediately sensed Xane's intention to play 'paper'.

"Fuck," Xane said as he lost. "Fine, hand your Hole over."

The thaum-mage grabbed the dark knuckles and pointed them at the barrier. In the diffuse light of the cave and with the soul stones glowing in ominous dark red, the shadow of the invisible blade was barely noticeable.

Xane flinched with a smirk as the blade bounced off the gems. He hammered down in the storage device, hacking off chips. Chay directed his strikes to land along the grain and break bigger chunks off.

Xane dripped with sweat as his short, hard, buff arms brought down Hole again and again.

With the soul stone shattered, Xane handed back the blade and they moved on to the next target.

Before they reached it, Xane was overcome with the carnal craving curse.

His hands shook. "I... fuck fuck fuck, I need cock, I need muscle, ughhhh."

He licked Goro's chest like he wanted to beat Goro up with his tongue. The bigger bodybuilder tried to hold still but let out a groan as Xane licked his nipples. Goro's fingers ran through his gym buddy's hair, his mark of madness a thin ring around his forearm.

Goro pushed his friend down his abs and let him lick the sweaty balls, humping as if he had a dick to fuck Xane's mouth with.

"We got to keep going," Chay said.

Goro made his kneeling friend turn forward. He spread his legs and let Xane's face find his asshole. Then he grabbed Xane by the hips and lifted him upside down.

Goro stood with his own legs wide apart, squatting. Xane's waist was in his arms, the Korean man hanging low enough to keep rimming. Goro gently squat-jumped with magic leaps to follow the others, eyes watering.

The next cluster was guarded. Xane and Goro waited around the corner while Chay followed Bwogeth's approach.

The sole guard was a Dragoon in spiky armor -- a Drake enhanced with the blood of a demon.

The Dragoon's dino-body was buffer than the average Drake, looking a little absurd with vein-bulging ultra-muscles. He had small, downward curving horns. His wings were more demonic than those of a typical Aeodrake. Demonblooded creatures were rare and powerful.

The demigods covered their crotches just in time.

Bwogeth sounded cheery. "If it isn't my favorite champion's lieutenant. I was about to add these couple of figments but now that I've got you right here..." He looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers. "You heard how Mlavveth busted a slug shit smuggling ring?"

The Dragoon nodded, suspicious. They didn't know each other well.

"That money will make good tribute," the acolyte continued. "But... there could be some for you if you're quick. Let's talk favors."

The distraction maneuver was a success and the two vanished. Chay waved his friends along. This time Goro was the Hole wielder.

"Ugh, I didn't miss this," he said as the curse set in, appearing vastly more composed than he felt as Chay could tell. "Wish the demon was still here. I'd mouth-rape his abs and his thighs and -- fuck, I need to worship."

Goro licked his way up and down Marcus' thighs. Apparently that wasn't enough to satisfy him because he forcefully pulled Chay in and licked both their legs. They sat down between arrangements of silently ticking clockwork.

Xane magically swiped over their feet to clean them and Goro licked their soles and toes.

"Hehe," Marcus made. "Didn't know you're such a foot-guy, big dude."

"I'm not," Goro said, lips barely leaving Chay's calves. "I- I think. Fuck, it's the curse."

"Uh-huh," Marcus responded. "Keep telling yourself that."

"They've been gone for too long," Chay said. Goro rammed his face into Chay's crack. Chay leaned back and got greedily rimmed. His dick cage shone blinding light on the long haired bodybuilder.

"Is that a problem?" Xane asked. "We got rid of so many souls it's like we took a power plant offline. As soon as the vortex runs out of stored juice, its goodbye."

"Bwogeth didn't *intend* to leave us alone. He wouldn't put this much effort into keeping the guard tied up. Something's wrong."

"Umbra-sense?" Goro said. Curse lifted from one second to the next, he rose like he hadn't just committed the worst acts of faggotry. There was something enviable about the solidly stoic nature but Chay wasn't in the mood to puzzle out his feelings on masculinity.

Their cages dimmed slightly.

"Shit," Chay said, staring at his package.

"W-what?" Marcus made. "What's wrong with your crotch?" He pulled the red fundoshi down. "Everyone's still glowing."

"The light dimmed," Chay said. "One demon just died. We should head back, fast."

===***===

Acolyte Bwogeth and the Dragoon waited for them in the main chantry chamber. The Scourge Fiend held his sword, the demonblooded Drake an arcane trident.

Mlavveth was beheaded, his black blood flowing off the altar where his corpse was displayed, running into runic carvings on the floor.

Overhead, the Guster swirled, giving the room's light somewhat of a disco-ball treatment.

The pantheon stopped at the entrance.

There had been no obvious sign of duplicity before. Chay assessed the situation with umbra-sense. "Uh, the Dragoon got Bwogeth to betray his master..." he sensed the acolyte's surprised reaction, "...accidentally? Maybe the dino let on how much Loyakken pays for intel or something. Important part, I don't think this has left the room yet. Let's kill them."

The Dragoon grinned and waltzed toward the group. "You slaves broke our batteries? I'll tear you apart."

Marcus leaped forward and sprayed unicorn dust right into the laughing mega-Kobold's throat. The armored demonblood froze in terror and started clawing at his own armor.