Spire of Submission - Chapter 27 (12/11/24)

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

Here is the next chapter of my brand new story - Spire of Submission!

I've been so excited to post this first chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!

 

A tower in the neighbouring province has been an issue for far too long, and a hopeless band of adventurers will be chosen to take on the Spire, with promise of riches and power... if they can survive.

Set in a fantasy world (think Dungeons and Dragons) full of elves, dwarves, tieflings, magic, demons and warlocks, this story will see our adventurers take on the Spire, in the hope of defeating the Mistress who resides there. This story is a bit of a slow burner when it comes to the ABDL content, and there are other... interests... in it. It is also not like my usual stories. It's not told by a protagonist, instead being told by a narrator, and it is not like my romance stories. I can't even promise a happy ending. This will be a challenge for the party, and not everyone will make it out... if any. But it will be kinky and fun. So I hope you enjoy it, even if it's not like my usual stories! I feel like the humour is the same as Infernum, so if you liked that, you should like this!

Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them. They really help with the motivation to write more! Especially when it comes to new stories and stories like this that aren't my usual thing! Especially when it's a story not connected to either of my main series.

Don't forget you get get 2 week early access (so 4 chapters) to my main ongoing story, if you subscribe to my Subscribestar.

Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others!

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: The Tavern

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

The sun began to set across the crooked sign for the local inn, causing nearby traders to start packing up their goods to head home before the darkness comes… and all manners of dangers begin showing up in search of unaware travellers or food. Which in these parts of the Audrasta Empire… were often the same thing.

Sure, the town had guards; the King ensured that all their subjects were protected, no matter where they decided to settle down in the Empire. Problem was, some were more ‘well-guarded’ than others. And Rosehaven… well it was a small town on the border, close to the Oblivion Province. And it was not one of these lucky settlements.

And for the longest time… that bordering province was considered non-hostile. It had no armies, no capital… just small villages apparently full of feral bandits who never ventured out, surviving purely on the unaware traveller that passed through. But not once did any of them make the crossing over to Rosehaven. And then there was the Spire, but not once had anything stepped foot outside of it.

That’s why no one ventured out that way. Tales told throughout generations meant that there was no need for a large garrison, that the Oblivion Province was not dangerous… provided you stayed out of it. At least that’s what they say.

So with its two guards, both of whom were stationed here due to insubordination, the small village of Rosehaven began settling down for the night, before the nearby forest woke up and all its inhabitants started hunting the outskirts for lone travellers.

 

But as the quaint little village started settling down, with its small cottages, its tiny array of stores, its rather cramped marketspace, and its handful of farms… its tavern started waking up.

During the daylight hours, the Dazzling Leaf Pub was… well… It was a shithole. It was a run down old pub that hadn’t seen a new fresh piece of wood or a non-rusty nail in what was probably decades. The drinks were watered down, the food was stale and off, and the company was… questionable.

And during the twilight hours… well… It was the same shithole, just a bit rowdier.

But to Rosehaven, it was their shithole.

It was the one good place to socialise, to get out of the house, to get away from the boring, monotonous lives the villagers led. It was also the only place the adventurers would gather in, every ten years, when the village mayor put out the same quest he and all his predecessors had put out every decade. So tonight… it was going to be busier than usual.

Ten years to the day was the last time the adventurers, mercenaries and do-gooders gathered in this shithole-of-a-tavern to drink the last remaining hours away, all before one group was chosen to enter the tower and try to slay the Mistress there. And like clockwork, more adventurers, mercenaries and do-gooders have shown up to take on the same quest that the previous group failed to complete.

Determined to defeat the Mistress of the Domination Spire, the Mayor put out the same bounty every ten years, when the doors to the tower magically opened, to attract any groups they could… to kill the Demon Queen. And every time, more suckers turned up, despite knowing full well that the previous group who had been chosen… were never seen again.

And it’s been like this for over a hundred years now.

 

You see, the doors to the Domination Spire open only every ten years, allowing entry for anyone stupid enough to go in. Nothing ever came out, mind you, and no one who went in ever returned. So you may be asking why send adventurers to their inevitable deaths? Why risk it when the Domination Spire shows no threat or hostility to the village?

Well… It started off hundreds of years ago, back when the village was more of a bustling town than the run-down quaint village you see today. Every ten years, the tower doors opened, and the town thought nothing of it as the Spire was miles away from them. It wasn’t even in the Empire’s lands, so they dismissed it and went on with their lives. Around that same time, there were a few disappearances every year, seven… to be exact. 

And it took a while, it wasn’t until the Mayor’s daughter had disappeared that they finally started noticing this phenomenon. One that had been going on for a lot longer than they realised. Ten years later… Another seven went missing. Then another seven. 

The Mayor at the time, still distraught from losing his daughter two decades ago, didn’t put two and two together until it was too late… when his Granddaughter went missing.

Then a note appeared. A sealed note, sealed with a wax symbol of the tower.

‘I will return this child. I have no use for her. But you owe me an adult soul.’

So the Mayor instantly put out a quest for all adventurers to enter the tower… and recover his Granddaughter. Many adventurers took up the quest, preparing themselves and heading into the Dormant Vale, where the Spire stood… waiting.

And as the first adventurer, sword in hand, entered… the doors shut, magically sealing themselves before anyone could react. No matter what they did, they couldn’t break through the seal. Fire had no effect. Hammers shattered upon impact. Some even brought a battering ram, only for it to burst into flames… along with the adventurers carrying it.

All hope had been lost, until hours later… The door opened and out walked a little girl, looking for her Grandfather.

 

Safely returned, the Granddaughter told the Mayor that the Mistress of the tower required seven souls every ten years. That’s it. No bloodlines specifically, no specifics about who it could be… just… anyone. But there had to be seven.

Ten years later, as his last act as Mayor before stepping down due to old age, the Mayor rounded up all the vagrants about town. Drunkards, layabouts… anyone society deemed as ‘unproductive’, and lead them to the tower.

The doors opened, the sacrifices were made… and no one disappeared from the village that decade.

Ten years later, the next mayor did the same. And ten years after that. But eventually… they ran out of ‘undesirables’, and had to look elsewhere.

Instantly, the community started looking inwards, trying to judge who could be sacrificed and who couldn’t. Until… the Granddaughter of the previous Mayor stepped up, now a young woman… and suggested that they hire adventurers.

If the adventurers make their way in and somehow manage to slay the Mistress… then they can keep the riches of the tower and the village never has to worry about her ever again. But if they fall… then they reach the quota of sacrifices for the decade and the village tries again ten years later. So it’s a win-win.

And so here we are, many… many decades later, having been through countless adventuring parties… the day before the ten year mark, when the sacrifices need to be made.

 

---------+++++++---------

 

“I know we’re technically sacrifices… but do we really reckon we’ll kill the bitch?” the angry-sounding halfling grumbled, before lifting his tankard vertically as to obtain peak-chugging capability.

“What I want to know is… why seven?” asked the pointy-eared devout, as she sipped her drink slowly. She had never been one to drink much, and her party knew it… that’s why they gave her the biggest tankard. To ‘calm her nerves’ before the Spire tomorrow… or so they’d tell themselves. Really, they just wanted to watch the devout cleric get drunk and dance on the table naked for once.

“Why seven? Well it’s clearly some ritual or spell,” the dwarf commented as she stuffed scraps of food into a pouch. “But hey, that means we have a better chance at getting picked in the morning, as looking around now… these other parties drinking tonight are much smaller. It’ll be easier to pick us than stitch some other smaller groups together and hope they fight well enough together to beat that demonic bitch.” 

“Yes, but Herta… do we even want to be picked?” the tiefling said to the dwarf ranger sitting beside her, as she looked at her adventuring companion with disgust. “I heard no one’s ever even made it out alive…” 

The differences between the ranger and the warlock were as clear as day, as one clearly loved roughing it out in the wild, sleeping under trees, communing with animals and foraging… and the other… Well, the warlock tiefling had standards.

“Or even out, full stop,” the Half-elf hovering at the edge of the group added, lending their voice to the conversation finally.

“Look, let’s just enjoy tonight,” the Paladin ordered to the other six, trying his best to sound commanding, because he loved the way everyone looked at him as if he was the leader of the group. “We’re probably going to get picked tomorrow morning, so we need to be rested and ready. So first thing, before the Mayor calls us all to the village square… get your equipment prepared, got that?” 

 

There was no real leader of this party, they were all equally incompetent in some way and were either too arrogant to consider voting for anyone but themselves as leader… or were too anxious to vote for anyone else… in the worry that others would be upset.

Herta, the stout dwarf ranger with scruffy brown hair, wearing roughed-up leather armour, communed with animals so well that she has been invited into wolf packs, which led to her gaining her current companion, Trace, who is patiently sat outside the tavern due to a ‘no pets allowed’ sign hanging above the front door. And despite a lot of arguing and well-reasoned points… the tavernkeep had told her that the wolf had to wait outside. Herta was a stocky dwarf, with a love of alcohol, and a soft spot for her animal companions… but when it came to people… she was hopeless. It’s not like she didn’t trust them… but… well… no, she didn’t trust them, and would happily sacrifice them if it meant saving her wolf. 

This party is the closest she’s ever got to actual people, and she was slowly warming up to them, especially after they survived their last quest together. To her though, they still rank below a squirrel she saw once. Maybe above a slug.

Magnus, the overconfident Paladin who normally would be wearing his signature heavy plate armour… was a darker-skinned human with perfectly cut jet black hair… who had been born with a silver spoon stuck up his arse. Which would explain the superiority complex this man has now. Desperate to ‘fight evil and save the innocent’… This man felt righteous in his quest for justice… but didn’t realise that he just looked down on everyone because he felt like he was superior to them, all because of his status as a Paladin. If this man was here to save you, he’d be just as likely to smite you by accident if you stood too close to his enemy.

…And then he’d blame you for it.

Thistle, the Half-elf dressed in the stereotypical messy green and brown druid robes, with brown hair and a youthful appearance, was a small, timid creature, perhaps even rivalling the elf cleric in how anxious they were around people. They were very similar, apart from the fact that Thistle didn’t put themselves down as much as the other elf in the group, they were actually pretty confident about their abilities. It was mostly just social interaction that the druid was lacking on, mostly due to growing up in the forests in a small druidic commune where no one talked to each other.

Despite knowing the group for over a year now, since they were grouped up for another quest by a Lord miles from here, no one could tell if Thistle was male or female. And when one of them would finally get the courage to ask… Thistle just laughed and shrugged it off, never actually answering them. They loved that no one could tell, and made them feel so happy and so… them.

Serrill was the other elf, though she wasn’t a half-elf like Thistle, she was a High-elf. Serrill grew up in a small village, quickly becoming a Cleric, one who worshipped one of the smaller Deities of the Empire, one that brought her childhood village good crops and a scarcity of disease. And for this, she trained to become a Cleric and travel the world, to do good and help others to thank her deity for all the privileges she had growing up. Serrill was definitely the most shy one of the group, often not standing up for herself, and only being part of the group because they needed a healer and she happened to be the only one around. And it’s not like she could just tell them no… she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. With a lack of self confidence, blonde hair, very pointy ears, her trusty staff, and her favourite blue robes that were always clean when she put them on in the morning (thanks to her deity), she worked her arse off keeping this catastrophe-of-a-group alive, often causing her to run out of magic and collapse. But not once is she ever thanked for it. Not that she’ll complain… that would just cause drama and that’s even worse than getting no recognition to her.

Vico was the halfling currently choking on the ale he attempted to chug in one go. 

He’s an idiot. That’s it.

Fine. If you had to describe this feral barbarian half-pint in five or more words… ‘No brain, compensates with rage’.

Wearing what would be more accurately described as ‘scraps’ or ‘rags’... this little ball of rage favoured no armour at all, as even leather armour would slow him down. He had a great big brown bushy beard and a matching brown mohawk that just made him look feral more than anything. He clearly didn’t take any effort in his appearance, as no doubt it’d just get covered in whatever monster’s entrails he’d be fighting later. Even his backpack was falling apart, which made his companions wonder just what he spends his money on, because it clearly wasn’t himself.

If you’re wondering… it’s ale. Ale and a weird multi-level marketing scheme he fell for years ago… one that he swears is going to pay off eventually.

Isolde is the bard. Because what party isn’t complete without an idiotic annoying creature that loves to flirt with literally anything that can form a sentence. Sometimes not even that.

With ginger hair, a pretty face, and a great body for a human… you’d think that this charisma-focused musician would get action wherever the party goes… but she can’t even do that right. She has all the charisma… but also has the worst luck imaginable. It’s led to some of the party thinking she may be cursed, as she should by all means be able to sweet-talk anyone into anything, but no matter what… she is being constantly rejected and ignored by everyone and everything.

She’d often wear something slutty, in the hope that she’d get some action, but even with this body-formed brown leather armour she had custom made to hug her curves and show off her cleavage, the only ‘fiddling’ she was getting… was from her own instrument.

Aurelia was the refined Tiefling warlock, sipping her drink slowly, savouring the little flavour it had. As mentioned before, Aurelia has standards. Which begs the question… Why did she decide to join this group of all groups? A refined, red-skinned tiefling, with perfectly brushed black hair, a perfectly ironed black robe, and a taste for the finer things. You’d think she’d have found a better group by now, but for some reason she likes adventuring with these six failures. Whether it’s to boost her ego, or to rob their bodies when they inevitably die… no one but her knows.

She’s also the direct antithesis of Isolde. This woman gets laid. A lot. But she doesn’t brag about it or openly flirt like her companion. She doesn’t need to.

 

And despite their failures and their problems… this party has managed to stay alive for the past year, managing to take on jobs across the Empire, until they heard from another party that there was an upcoming quest. One that promised untold riches… if you survived.

So being the party of idiots and people too anxious to speak up… they bravely made their way to the quaint little village of Rosehaven and settled down in the tavern, waiting for the announcement tomorrow morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

=======================================================

It's always scary posting the first chapter of a new story. You'd think having posted 11 other first chapters on here... it'd get easier. But this being a new story and a new series for me... makes it even scarier. So I hope you like it! Obviously, with it being such a uninvolved first chapter, mostly setting some stuff up... there won't be much to comment on as the story hasn't even gotten started properly yet and you haven't really properly met our characters yet. But I hope that you love them all as much as my other characters from my other series!

And I promise it won't take long for the story to get going, even if some other things in this story are a bit of a slow burner.

But despite this, comments are greatly appreciated, especially with this being a new story. So please let me know what you think, even at such an early stage. ❤️

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

[Moon3ye]

As someone who plays a female elf in D&D, I'm curious if my kin will survive or at least have a nice life.

[Guilend]

2 hours ago, Moon3ye said:

As someone who plays a female elf in D&D, I'm curious if my kin will survive or at least have a nice life.

Lol same. I don't play D&D, but I do play as a female elf in every RPG I play. But, I hope they fall into all sorts of things. 😂 

[Baby Jemma]

As someone who loves tieflings and played a tiefling rogue to my aarokocra ranger (so disappointed that the birdies didn't make it in, lawl, XDD) with severe brain damage from a blow to the head in a battle to the point where she was basically a toddler in mind in my second D&D campaign and a tiefling cleric in my very first, I have to go with Aurelia as my favorite thus far. Hope she makes it out alive...but babyfied.

 

As far as the story being more narrator-based than first-person, I can definitely appreciate your wanting to branch out into something different; it's something I wish more authors would do, and the ones who do end up being my favorites (which is what I admire so much about your writing; you're not afraid to branch out into something different). However, I felt that the description of the party was a lot more tell than show, particularly their names and personalities. I felt that you did a very good job at first, but bolding the names before the description of the personality was a bit much and the sudden description was a bit jarring. If the party knows each other that well, having been in various scraps together, I feel that they'd be on a name basis, unless otherwise specified (again, show, not tell).

 

I feel that it would've been better describing them and their personality quirks before you had them speak and act or showing their names and personalities through their actions and dialogue - even in an omniscient third-person narrative, showing who they are is so much more effective than telling - would've made the sudden info-dump about names and personality quirks a lot less jarring than it felt to me.

 

As for the characters themselves, I do actually admire how much forethought you've put into them. You make these characters so relatable, and I feel that it's one of your biggest strengths. Of course, there's the party, of course, but also the side characters, especially the old mayor, whom I actually sympathize with the most, losing his daughter to the Demoness and wanting to protect his granddaughter more than anything. I am eager to see how you portray the Demoness and see the nuances she has; I have to imagine that, while she's the Big Bad to start out with, there's more to her.

 

But please don't take my earlier critique as a bad thing; this is still an outstanding start, and Spire of Submission is still a story I'm going to be following with great interest and admiration for the caliber of writer you are. I just feel like a few things could've been corrected, is all.

[TerranV]

Oooooh DnD focused! 

As we are sharing, I'm currently DMing a campaign with my friends and I have a one shot coming up where I get to try out my Eladrin Sun Soul Monk, Marigold. 

Let's see where this is going!

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Preparation

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

At first light, all the adventurers gathered in the village square, around a small makeshift podium that the Mayor had set up the night before. 

Well, all the adventurers with two notable exceptions: Vico, who was currently nursing a hangover in his room that they had rented in the inn, and Herta, who had chosen to forgo the event, instead wandering out into the nearby forest to forage, knowing full well that they had the best chance of being picked anyway, so she wouldn’t be missed.

They knew they had the best chance of being picked not because they were the most qualified… but just because they were the only group with exactly seven members. The number needed for the sacrifice.

Oh and this wasn’t a secret that the Mayor kept from them, this was in big, bold writing at the bottom of the poster they had sent out into neighbouring kingdoms, making sure that anyone who signed up knew that they were part of a sacrificial ritual. 

If they can slay the Mistress of the spire before they end up… well, end up in whatever fucked-up ritual that demon has in store for them… great! They can rob the place of all it has and go on their merry way… and the village will be even more thankful to them. But if they fail… technically they’ll count as sacrifices, so the village will still be happy. But they never want to deceive those being sent to what is most likely their death… they’d feel too bad if they did.

So as our remaining five intrepid adventurers gathered together in the square, surrounded by what looked to be about a dozen or so smaller parties of various races, they prepared themselves for the upcoming announcement.

 

The Mayor exited his little cottage, the one just off the village square, and walked up to the podium, neatly dressed in his finest suit, and looked out as he took a little scroll out of his pocket, adjusting his monocle.

“Ahemm…” he said, clearing his throat. “Thank you for coming today. We have processed everyone’s applications, and come to a decision as to who will be sent to the spire as sacrifices… I mean… as to who will attempt to slay the Mistress…”

This Mayor was the great-great-great… I forgot how many Mayors this village has gone through, but they are always the children of the previous one. The villagers don’t care about democracy or voting or any of that new-fangled ‘equality’ stuff. They just want a Mayor who will satisfy the sacrifice quota for the decade… and who doesn’t cause the village to burn down. So pretty low standards if you ask me.

“COME ON! GET ON WITH IT!” a rowdy dwarf from a neighbouring party shouted out, taking the nervous Mayor by surprise.

“I… sorry… I’m sorry that there can only be one party, and there won’t be anything for the others. Though… we do have some harpies in a cave on the other side of the village if anyone is interested… provided they don’t get picked to be the sacrifices… I mean… That’s if you want… I…” the Mayor was getting flustered, and you could pinpoint the exact moment he gave up caring as his arms flailed and he raised his arm, pointing at the party of misfits in the centre. “Ah who am I kidding? Good luck to the party of seven over by the fountain… Applications for the harpy problem in an hour…”

And with that spectacular announcement… the Mayor hastily shuffled off, leaving a lot of disappointed parties arguing with each other and staring daggers at the five members standing by the fountain.

“So… we were picked after all…” Serrill mumbled nervously, aware of all the eyes watching her right now… judging her.

“Helps that we have the exact number,” Magnus replied, picking up his sword that was currently resting on the fountain, and sheathing it by his waist. “So… like I said last night, go repair your gear, buy whatever you need to stock up on. You’ve got an hour. Meet at the entrance to the forest. Do not be late.” 

“If you start now, you’ll get your armour all shiny just how you like it!” Isolde teased the human Paladin, knowing full well that for this guy… everything has to be clean. He’s big on ‘purity’ like that. So why he’s hanging out with the likes of Vico, Isolde and Aurelia is a question he asks himself every day.

“Go tune your flute,” Magnus snapped at the bard, before walking off with his head held up high towards the blacksmith on the other side of the village.

“He’s such an idiot…” scoffed Isolde, before walking away in the direction of the inn again.

 

It was just Thistle, Serrill and Aurelia left now, and they figured they’d go do some shopping to stock up on supplies, as no doubt the others will forget about the important things… like food and water.

First arriving at ‘Tomes and Tiaras’, the two elves and the tiefling entered quietly. Not that they had any ill intentions… they were no thieves… they were just extremely socially awkward.

Being the only one with any half-decent social skills, Aurelia took point and walked up to the shopkeeper, greeting him.

“Ah, good afternoon,” the shopkeeper replied to the warlock. “What a nice day to be sacri… I mean… for an adventure… right? Sorry, my name is Rinisi. How can I help you?” 

“If we’re going to stand any kind of chance against that Spire, we’ll need potions, food, water, provisions… that kind of thing. Could you… be a dear… and perhaps give us a teensy weensy discount… considering we’re doing such a good deed for your village?” Aurelia teased, in that flirty way she was so adept at.

I wasn’t lying when I said Aurelia was socially awkward. So when it comes to flirting… She's a pro. But she doesn’t brag about it like the bard, Isolde, does. She just gets the job done… so to speak. However… if you try to smalltalk with this woman? You’ll most likely come out of that conversation with singed hair and the smile blasted off your face. Aurelia doesn’t do small talk. She does sex… and that’s it. 

In fact she’d probably list her main two strengths as sex and magic, with conversational skills listed in her weaknesses, if she’d even own up to that.

“I think we can manage a little discount…” replied Rinisi, nervously.

 

“One gold says he’s spoiling the front of his pants right now…” Thistle whispered to Serrill at the back of the shop, making her blush at the thought.

“I get she’s sexy and alluring and all that… but… how can she have that much power over a man? I don’t get all blushy and squirmy around her like they do…”

“Oh but you do…” Thistle replied, giggling at the blushy cleric.

“I do not!” Serrill replied, a little too loudly, gaining the attention of Aurelia and the shopkeeper.

“You two… get the basics. Now!” Aurelia commanded.

So Magnus likes to think he was in charge, but Aurelia has more power over some of the party members than anyone else, through pure sexual intimidation. Isolde would do anything for her for even the hint of sex. Thistle was very much into anyone dominant… and Serrill… well she was a hopeless lesbian who had a weakness for beautiful women. 

The dwarf, Herta, cared not for flirtation or any of that ‘seduction’ nonsense. She didn’t like people at all, though they were useful occasionally for de-stressing… in bed… Which gave Aurelia a modicum of power over the dwarf.

Magnus and Vico were the only exceptions. Magnus was too ‘pure’ to tarnish his image by doing anything untoward with such an ‘impure’ being… and Vico… well let’s just say his two brain cells couldn’t deduce Aurelia’s flirting, often mistaking it for a challenge. After a few fights between the halfling and the tiefling… the latter gave up trying to control the halfling through sexual means. Now she just carries food around and has gradually trained Vico like Herta does her wolf.

 

Serrill grabbed some potions, Thistle grabbed some food and some bandages, and both of them hurried back to the front, where a very impatient Aurelia stood, tapping her heel on the wooden floorboard.

“You two took your time…” she scolded them both.

“I… sorry… couldn’t find…” Serrill mumbled.

“Nevermind. Just put it on the counter, let’s pay for it, then we can grab that good-for-nothing white knight and head off into the forest.”

“Do… Do you think we’ll manage to kill her?” Serrill asked, nervously. This was a question that had been on her mind ever since they were told that many parties have been felled by the Mistress of the Spire… none of whom succeeded in their quest. Or ever returned.

“You mean the Mistress?” Aurelia then sighed before looking at the elf directly. “Do you want me to be honest?”

“I… please…” Serrill replied. Thistle was next to her, nodding along, and it seemed the two of them not only wanted the truth, but were also concerned about their chances of success on this dangerous mission.

“I’d say there’s a good chance we’ll die,” Aurelia said, nonchalantly.

“WHAT? REALLY?” shouted both elves.

“That’s why we run for it if it’s too much for us. It’s my motto in any adventuring party… sacrifice the dumb ones.”

“An… and… who are the dumb ones?” Thistle asked, scared of the answer.

“Don’t worry, it’s not you two. You two are smart. You may act shy and nervous all the time… but I can tell you weigh situations carefully in your mind before acting, unlike that Paladin and Barbarian of ours… Not to mention that slut, Isolde… Dwarf has a good head on her though. Good body too…”

As Aurelia looked off into the distance, thinking about her companion in more… intimate circumstances… The druid and cleric looked at each other, bewildered by Aurelia’s choice of words.

Not because she had paid them a compliment, which was weird enough as it is… but because if these two could communicate telepathically… they’d both realise they were thinking the exact same thing.

‘Yeah… an ‘act’… suuuuure…’

 

After they were done in the shop, they headed over to ‘Smelt my Hearth’.

“I swear… who comes up with these stupid shop names?” Aurelia sighed. “I swear it must be an Eastern Kingdom thing. It was never this silly in the West.”

“What’s it like in the West?” Thistle asked. “I heard you grew up there, right?”

“Maybe another time, little tree-hugger. Let’s grab the little ball of rage and the canary and get out of here. The villagers seem to want us out of here, they’ve been giving us evil glances all morning, it’s clear they want us to sacrifice ourselves pretty early on.”

“Probably so they can get on with their day…” Serrill joked, making it one of those rare moments you had to cherish… as Serrill stopped trying to make jokes ages ago, due to no one finding them funny. Though in reality… they just weren’t listening to her. If they had heard her, they probably would have laughed, but the shy cleric is as quiet as a mouse sometimes.

“Is that what we’re calling Magnus now? The ‘canary’?” Thistle asked Aurelia as they banged on the door to the blacksmith.

“What? You don’t agree? I think it suits him. He runs off head-first as usual… If he dies, we know it’s too dangerous and we run away. Then the villagers can lose six random people and we leg it to the next town over before anyone realises what we’ve done.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Serrill asked, concerned.

“Look, I’m not dying over some village’s neighbourly dispute. We usually take on easy jobs. This… and I’ve been saying since the beginning… This job may be a little bit too on the ‘world saving’ end of adventuring. And those jobs… are the ones I actively avoid. Heroes die all the time. Don’t be a hero.”

“Noted. But… shouldn’t we at least try to help the town?” Serrill nervously muttered.

“Yes. But not at the expense of our lives.”

“Are you saying your life is more important than theirs?”

Aurelia just looked at the smaller elf, raised her eyebrow, and crossed her arms.

“Of course I am. Weren’t you listening?”

Serrill knew there was no convincing this woman that doing the ‘right thing’ was better for not only the village… but for her soul. So she rolled her eyes and smashed her fists on the door to hurry their companions along.

 

“Right. Are we all ready?” Magnus asked as they all gathered just outside the village entrance. Herta had even deigned to join them finally, along with her trusty wolf companion, Trace. With the Dormant Vale in sight, they made their final checks before heading out. Herta, being the survivalist of the group, worked out how long it would take them to get to the spire, which would be about an hour or two’s trek from here if they don’t stop for a break.

“For what feels like the tenth time… yes, we are all ready,” sighed Aurelia.

“Did the canary take forever shining his boots again?” Herta whispered to the warlock as best she could with her gruff voice.

“Are you seriously all calling him that?” whispered Serrill, as to not gain Magnus’ attention and upset him.

“What? He’s a great warning signal!” Herta laughed heartily.

“Ladies… listen up,” Magnus interrupted, trying to keep everyone focused. “We head out now, maybe stop for ten minutes about half way there, then arrive at the tower. Do we know if there are any dangers or threats along the road? I’d hate for us to fall before we even get to the Spire.” 

“I didn’t sense anything, though Trace felt an unease in the air. So I’d be careful and watch out for any sudden ambushes,” Herta replied.

“Got that. Vico, you take the rear…”

Thistle started giggling.

“Serrill, you stay somewhere in the middle, though can you all give her a few inches…? Don’t overcrowd our healer, she doesn’t need that much protection…”

Thistle’s giggling got worse.

“Thistle… you can come… with me.”

That was it. That was all it took for Thistle to start laughing out loud, crying their eyes out and gasping for air.

“Thistle… just… grow up,” Was all Magnus said before he sighed, turned away, and started marching in the direction of the forest.

The rest of the party followed along, even Thistle, who was still struggling to keep their composure as they tagged along behind Aurelia, leaving Vico at the back, rubbing his two brain cells together, thinking… ‘What was so funny?’

 

 

 

 

=======================================================

There we go, now we finally get some actual characterisation! Sorry the first chapter was more of a list, its hopefully made up for in the second chapter! Just with a larger cast of characters all being introduced at once, I thought the best way was to describe them, then you get to properly meet them from the second chapter onward.

I'm also really happy people love the D&D theme, I've been wanting to write a proper fantasy story for a long time now, and that want was made even more stronger when I mentioned a fantasy version of Liv and Charlie in Love in Dimensions (No, this isn't anything to do with that series, this is its own standalone story that isn't to do with either of my main series!)

Also, I play either a tiefling warlock or an elf cleric Sometimes arcane trickster tiefling. It's been fun finding out what you all play!

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

 

[Moon3ye]

I play a female Psychopathic Pyromaniac Cleric Elf with the attribute Fire who gets her power from the Red Panda Goddess of Firestorms.

[TerranV]

Gotta say I love Smelt my Hearth as a name.

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

 

Chapter 3: The Dormant Vale

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

The light from the morning sun struggled to make its way through the forest canopy. Beams of light that did penetrate the cover just seemed to… dissipate… before even reaching the forest floor.

A forest would usually smell… earthy… but this one just smelled of nothing. It wasn’t that there were no distinct smells, it was more that this forest genuinely didn’t have any smells. As Trace, the ranger’s wolf companion, smelled the trees and sniffed the ground, it just looked confused as it looked back at its Master, not knowing what to tell her.

“I… don’t like this place,” whispered Serrill, to anyone nearby who would listen.

“Yeah, this place just feels… empty. There are trees, there are plants… but there’s no… life?” Thistle replied, their voice quivering with fear. “It’s as if even the plant life is… empty.”

“Maybe it’s just a warning to deter trespassers to the Spire? Maybe there aren’t actually any dangers here?” Aurelia suggested. “Druid… can you sense anything?”

“I… can’t. I can’t sense anything at all. No magic, no light, no life… nothing!” they replied, panic in their voice.

“Then how can we see? Why isn’t this place just pitch black?” Magnus spoke up, asking the important question.

“It’s like the forest is set at a specific light. Just bright enough for us to see… but with no visible light source.”

“How’s that possible if there isn’t any magic?”

“Who knows?” Thistle shrugged.

“Well keep your guard up. We need to get to the castle by nightfall. Who knows what happens to this place at night…”

 

The party continued on, making their way cautiously, but quickly, through the forest, just waiting for something to jump out and ambush them.

Twenty minutes in, however, they found themselves alone still.

“My sword itches for combat… but there isn’t anything,” Magnus sighed.

He was clearly the only one who wanted something to jump out at them just so he could fight it. The others… wished something would jump out just so they could allay this unease they all felt deep within their gut… as if they were being watched.

“They’re probably just waiting until we get far enough into the forest that we can’t run out again,” Isolde commented.

“Thanks for putting my mind at ease…” Serrill sighed, clutching her staff even tighter to her chest for comfort.

“You’re welcome! Hey, it’s not like you have to do any fighting if something pops out… So you can’t complain!”

Isolde was right. Serrill was designated party healer for this expedition, as she is for all expeditions. So it was her job to stay at the back, stay out of harm's way and keep everyone topped up and feeling fit for any fighting. She was a scrawny little elf, and was clearly out of her depth in the middle of combat. But whilst no one would admit it… they all really appreciated her for keeping them alive and well, bringing them back from the dead if they accidentally run into a trap and die, and overall just playing babysitter to them all. Though from the way everyone else puts it… they’re the ones babysitting her, not the other way around.

What Serrill lacked in strength and athleticism, she made up for in wisdom… and firepower. At least when she’s feeling brave enough. 

Sure, Aurelia, being a warlock with a pretty powerful patron, was a gifted spellcaster… but Serrill was no conjurer at a birthday party. She could probably hold her own against Aurelia, thanks in part to her deity’s blessing, but mostly her innate skill. But the issue is… she’s never been given the chance, as she’s the only one in this party who deigned to learn any healing magic in their studies. Magnus… well he is very much in the camp of ‘kill the enemy with as much offence as you can muster before it kills you’, so he never bothered learning any of ‘that healing nonsense’, figuring others in parties would pick up the slack there for him, so he can focus on looking flashy as he swings his big sword about. And Isolde, as a bard, could learn some basic healing magic, but… she’s selfish. Really selfish. Deception and trickery are her forte, though she wasn’t very good at that to be completely honest… which made everyone appreciate that she never learned any healing magic. Mostly because she’d probably fuck that up too. Seriously, this girl has the worst luck.

So Serrill, despite learning a number of offensive spells that were all prepared to be unleashed at a moment's notice… resigned herself to sitting in the back and keeping everyone alive.

“I… could fight if you let me…” Serrill said. Something she had told them countless times, but was ignored… Every. Single. Time. And this time… was no different, as the party continued on, pushing her forward so she stayed in the middle of the group. This was the safest place for ‘our little healer’, as if they were ambushed from behind, she couldn’t be picked off as easily.

“Let’s get going…” Magnus interrupted the cleric before she could say anything else, charging on ahead, stomping his heavy plate boots into the slightly damp mud.

And so they continued, keeping in formation, as they neared the halfway point of the forest.

“We need to rest for five minutes,” Magnus ordered, stopping without any indication, causing the others behind him to nearly barrel into him.

“Why? It’s barely been an hour,” Aurelia asked, sounding fed up with their ‘leader’. “We’ve managed more than that before. Hell, we walked for three hours just to get to the village in the first place…” 

“Because we need to be ready for a fight. And I think we should be at our best by the time we reach the Spire’s doors.”

Aurelia sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine. Five minutes. That’s all.”

And so the party sat down on a nearby fallen tree, with Magnus sitting on the stump of said tree, all by himself.

“So what’s the plan, boss?” Vico asked Magnus. Vico was the only one of the party who genuinely saw Magnus as their leader, and everyone just let him live in his own little world without shattering his beliefs by telling him that Magnus is as useful as a chocolate fireguard.

“For?” Magnus replied.

“The Tower! Spire! Whatever the hell the thing we’re going into is called!”

“Well… we know there are multiple floors…” Magnus said, trailing off after stating the obvious.

“And…?” Serrill asked as she sat nearby, rotating her staff in her hands, trying to keep them busy.

“And what?” Magnus shrugged, innocently.

“And… what else?”

“Ummm… that’s it.”

“Seriously? Did no one get any more information?” groaned Serrill, exhaling deeply.

“We did try…” Aurelia spoke up. “But there is no information to gather. The villagers know that the Mistress of the Spire is a demon of some sorts. But we have no idea what kind, how powerful she is, or what traps lay in store for us. We don’t know how many floors the tower has, what dangers we may face, what kind of minions this ‘Mistress’ has… we know… nothing.”

“AND WE TOOK THIS JOB? WHYYYY?” Serrill’s arms flailed about in frustration.

“Look, we really need money. Like… desperately so. And unless Magnus sells his armour…”

Magnus looked at Aurelia with a look that could kill. As if it was a threat to anyone looking… that if you try to take his prized shiny armour… he will murder you in your sleep. And then your family. And your dog. And your distant second cousins by marriage. And maybe even your neighbour’s pet goldfish too.

“...Exactly,” Aurelia sighed, rolling her eyes at the defensive paladin sitting by himself on the tree trunk, the one staring daggers at everyone right now. “So yes, we need money. And there is so much competition these days in regards to adventuring. So we figured we’d take on this job. I didn’t want to… but it was either this… or starve.” 

“You tried cursing him, didn’t you…?” Isolde whispered to Aurelia.

“...Didn’t work. Dumb Paladin and his stupid enchanted armour…” Aurelia muttered under her breath.

“So what are we going to do when we reach the tower? Hope for the best?” Serrill asked, mockingly.

“Pretty much,” Magnus replied, as if that was actually a solid plan and he was a genius for coming up with it.

“What about the traps?” Serrill continued questioning the Paladin, hoping that he had better answers than just ‘hope we don’t die’.

“We’ll deal with them,” Magnus replied.

“Minions?”

“Deal with them.”

“Any larger minions?”

“Deal with them too. Can’t be too tough.”

“And what if, by some miracle, we make it to the top of the Spire, and we face off against the Mistress…”

“We’ll kill her.”

“What if she’s immune to physical attacks?”

“Then we have magic.”

“What if she’s immune to that?”

“Then we’ll stab her.”

Serrill, along with multiple party members, was at the end of her rope by now, and was two seconds from ramming her staff down the Paladin’s throat.

“And WHAT, BY IF SOME WEIRD COINCIDENCE… SHE’S IMMUNE TO BOTH?” she screamed at her hopeless party member.

“Then… umm…” Magnus was stunned. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. His usual plan, which consisted of him running in and killing everything, had worked pretty well so far in his life. He was thirty four years old, and for a human, that may seem like a long time, but for the other races in the party… this thinking of his made the idea of him being a toddler compared to them… more of a reality.

Serrill was young for an elf, at only 150 years old. This made her an adult (and also the oldest in the party), but she was still treated like a kid by a lot of the older elves.

Thistle, only being half-elf and 25 years old, was considered more of an adult by their peers… but less mature by their party members. They did however, live with the satisfaction that they’d long outlive their human companions, even if they didn’t live anywhere near as long as full-blooded elves. If they even make it to old age, considering Magnus’ leadership.

Aurelia was the second oldest of the group, at 120 years old. Herta was 75. Vico was older for his race at 50, though he wouldn’t be considered ‘old’, more… middle age… 

These three were considered ‘more mature’ than the elves and the humans.

Isolde and Magnus, being humans… were considered babies by the rest of the party. Both of whom were in their 30s. So when it came to any decisions they made, any actions they made… they were always being silently (and sometimes not-so-silently) judged by the others for their immaturity.

So as the party all questioned why they agreed to this suicide mission, all sighing and rolling their eyes at the self-appointed ‘leader’ of the group… Magnus put on his best ‘knows what he’s doing’ face, and stood strong, hoping that that was enough to convince the others that they’d be okay.

 

As the party rested, taking a breather on the fallen tree, Herta felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Slowly moving her hand out, gripping her bow firmly, readying herself to draw an arrow at a moment’s notice… she looked over to see Trace shaking nervously.

“Trace…” she whispered to her canine companion. “Do you sense something…?”

Trace looked off into the distance, as if he had spotted something, but didn’t move an inch, still trembling.

“Aurelia…” Herta whispered to the tiefling.

“Yes, dear?” the warlock whispered back.

“There’s something watching us.”

“I know,” Aurelia replied, nonchalantly.

“You… know?” the dwarf replied, confused.

“Oh yes. I sensed it as we sat down.” 

Aurelia’s face didn’t change. It looked as if she didn’t care, but deep inside she was as terrified as the wolf right now.

“Then why didn’t you-?”

“Because if we try to attack it now, it’ll run away. And then we won’t have any idea where it is or when it’ll attack. This way… we can be ready.”

“Shouldn’t we alert the others?” Herta asked.

“Why are we whispering?” Thistle said in a quiet hush.

“There’s something watching us.”

“THERE IS?”

Thistle’s loud shout, along with them jumping up off the fallen log, caused the suspicious watcher to become startled. And instead of running away… it ran straight towards them.

 

 

 

 

 

=======================================================

Hope you're all still enjoying this!

 

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

 

[Bluebird67]

So, will whatever it is try to warn them not to go to their doom? Will it be diapered?

Will the information enable the party to Increase their preparedness from 0.1% to 2%?

[Baby Jemma]

So, we have more explanations to why they chose this, a slow build-up to the character's powers, ages, and personalities, and now an interesting watcher! I bet the watcher's going to warn them away from the Spire, that it isn't hostile.

Or I could be wrong, and we get to see them in action!

[TerranV]

Aurelia doing that thing where a player refers to their party members by class and not name.

[JeweledRefractions]

Told ya people would like it~

[Lionsheart]

I apologize as I know I'm behind already but I just read the first chapter and am admittedly hooked. I am not admittedly a D&D player but always wanted to be, just none of my friends would ever humor my ideas and I'm far too shy to find new people to learn and play with strangers. 😭 

Anywho, contrary to another comment I saw, I actually quite appreciate your bolded names that lead to descriptions for people like myself who have to revert back to the descriptions because I'm not a D&D player and have attention problems. I have to reread things and character/story building so it's a struggle for me, haha. I think it helps a bunch and I am studying your descriptions to remember as I read but will probably go back to page one a few times here.

Besides that, I think I haven't commented on your past stories as I felt like I'd be late to the game to commenting as I'm just a slow reader haha! Also, I tend to read 3 books and stories a week, rotating them so please forgive my last comments. I will try to catch up here today, tomorrow and this weekend when I have more time as I LOVE this!

Also, side note, have you read Inferno by Dante? I read that in high school and one of my creative writing assignments was to write one circle of hell but in the scene of a high school. Your 7 sacrifices in this story make me have the hypothesis that the each sacrifices face a different 'hell' in the Spire for their sins, much like Dante's 9 circles of hell and will pay for their sins/character flaws that I've read... Just a thought that I could be totally off on and I'm excited to read as they go through the Spire! 

I love slow burn ABDL stories by the way - I write too many of them personally so I'm all here for it! Thanks for posting the new story and I will be eating my popcorn and holding my breath for these characters, best of luck to them! Even though this is a different style for you, any style you write I'm here for and I quite like this one. Love it so far and keep up the great work! 👏👏 👏

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Ambush

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

 

Magnus, being the heroic leader of the group… yelped like a scared little puppy as he fell back, his armour causing his whole body to vibrate as it made contact with the tree stump.

Serrill jumped to her feet, but was pushed back by Aurelia, who blocked the small elf with her body and began chanting a spell quietly.

Isolde rolled over the log she was straddled across, hiding behind it, hoping that whatever was attacking them would just kill the others and move on… leaving her to run back to town and find a new party.

Herta gripped her bow tightly, nocking an arrow with swiftness and readying her aim in the direction of the attacker.

Thistle grabbed their staff and made themself look ready for combat. But they knew that they were powerless in a setting such as this. Sure, being a druid of the forest meant they had all manner of power at their disposal, and even more so when they’re in a forest… but this forest had no life. They felt no connection to the trees, no connection to the land… and there were no animals that they could bond with. If they were one of those shapeshifting druids, maybe they’d be more useful right now, but here… in this vast void… they felt weaker than ever. They’ve been in dungeons and towers before, and been able to conjure things using the lifeforce in the area, or been able to manipulate the roots under and around them… but here, despite being surrounded by trees… there was not much they could do right now.

And Vico… Well Vico had decided to take a quick power nap and was currently resting with his eyes closed, sitting on the log, axe gripped firmly in his hand still.

 

“What is it?” Thistle asked. “Ghost? Zombies? Wight? Banshee? Ghoul? Revenant?...”

“Stop listing things it could be, just because you read a book about the undead once…” Aurelia snapped at them.

“What if it’s not undead? I HAVEN’T READ A BOOK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE LATELY!” Thistle screamed in fear.

It’s true. They recently read a book on the Undead, and Thistle has this amazing ability to remember any information they have absorbed… as long as it was from the last book they read. If they were actually smart, they would have read a book on demons, in preparation for the tower, but they happened to find a book on the undead in their room at the inn… and having some time free, decided to have a quick skim through it.

And it’s not like it replaces the previous book’s contents in their memories… It just makes it harder for them to remember previous knowledge.

“Herta? Any idea what it is?” Aurelia asked the dwarf.

“No idea,” Herta replied, still focusing her shot in the direction her wolf was staring at. “But whatever it is… it’s able to hide in the shadows.”

“A shadow… demon?”

“Don’t be stupid. They don’t exist,” Magnus replied as he stood up and drew his sword. “It’ll just be some typical undead or some spirit. Let me handle it. My blessed sword will…” 

As he drowned on and on about how he was destined to slay evil and all that nonsense, Serrill looked up at Aurelia. “Doesn’t he know I’m here?”

Aurelia rolled her eyes at the elf, “Sweetie, I’m surprised he even knows any of us are here. But if it is undead or spirit based… Are you ready?”

“For what?” Serrill asked.

“To take over when that dumbass knocks himself out and we have to take this thing on ourselves.”

“But… won’t your magic hurt it too?”

“That’s why I need you ready. If I can’t get through it… you definitely can. So be prepared, okay? I’m trusting you to watch my back.”

“I… I can do that!” Serrill nodded, trying to contain her glee that Aurelia was actually trusting her with an important job for once.

Readying her staff as Aurelia did the same, the two magic-users prepared themselves for the fight of their lives.

Whatever it was that was attacking them rushed out from the distant shadows, speeding towards them, fast enough that none of them could see exactly what it was. Herta fired her nocked arrow… and it passed straight through. Magnus yelled some Paladin bullshit, before rushing sword-first towards the enemy… and he too passed straight through it, causing him to stumble forward and collapse on the ground… knocking himself out.

This left a powerless druid, a half-asleep barbarian, a cowardly bard and the two remaining magic-users to fight the thing before it reached them and most likely killed them.

Thistle… Thistle couldn’t do anything. They just froze on the spot, knowing there was nothing they could cast right now, as they had nothing to manipulate around them to cast any spells. Vico stayed asleep, dreaming of ale and half-naked halflings. Isolde stayed behind the log as the creature lunged in the direction of her companions.

So Aurelia fired a bolt of magic towards the creature… Colliding with it, bursting into a shower of illuminating purple particles… falling around the creature who had stopped in its tracks.

“Aha!” she cheered.

But the celebration was short lived, as the creature, who was as clear as day now to the party members currently staring at it, with its large bull-like horns, and its monstrous physique camouflaged by a shadowy aura… grinned and raised its shadowy arm.

“It’s… a demon!” Aurelia cried out, not knowing what to do. She has had many encounters with demons before, but has never had to fight one. In fact her pact is with a demoness, and she’s had many encounters with her and her kin before. But this one… this one seemed different.

“WELL DUH!” Isolde cried out, before realising she had just signalled where she was and quickly hid back beneath the lifeless tree trunk.

“I…” 

Before Aurelia could finish her sentence, the shadowy demon flicked its wrists, causing the same spell Aurelia had just cast to fly out of its hand, hitting the warlock and causing her to fly backwards, straight past Serrill.

 

The creature stepped forward, towering over the small blonde elf, and breathed heavily, causing the hair on the elf’s head to blow back.

“I… hello…” was all Serrill could come up with right now. She was far too frightened to fight back after what it just did to Aurelia, and she had no charm in which to persuade it to leave them alone like Isolde did.

Snorting, the creature just hovered over her, looking her up and down, as if… inspecting her.

It was then that the shadowy demonic bull-like creature… laughed? Not like a full on hearty laugh, but definitely a snicker. Before the elf could react, it thrust its arm out, grabbing the dainty elf by the throat and lifting her up into the air, causing her feet to dangle above the lifeless forest ground.

As she choked, the monster pulled her close so that it’s snout and mouth was next to her ear.

“You may be suitable sacrifices. You have been chosen. Proceed to the Spire without delay. My Mistress is not patient,” it growled with a deep, hollow voice.

Taken aback, the elf looked at Isolde, who had listened to the creature talking, and she too looked surprised… and terrified.

“I… we will…” the cleric replied.

“Good. Have this… gift… May it prove useful for your stay in the Spire…” the monster growled in Serrill’s ear, before uttering a few incantations the cleric couldn’t make out. It didn’t sound like any magic she knew, and it was clear that Thistle and Isolde didn’t understand it either. Maybe Aurelia could have understood the words, but she was still unconscious on the ground behind Serrill.

Feeling a weird warmth inside her chest, Serrill’s whole body felt a weird sensation… kinda like when you bang your elbow in just the right place and it sends shivers through your body.

Releasing the elf, the shadow-minotaur-demon thing just… dissipated… into smoke… and vanished, leaving a dumbstruck party to count their blessings and pick themselves up.

 

“What the hell was that?” Aurelia asked as she nursed a bruise on her head that Serrill was currently healing. Sitting on the fallen tree, with the elf kneeling beside her, the tiefling couldn’t help but look at Serrill and feel like something… was off with her.

“A present from the Mistress in the tower,” Thistle replied, nervously leaning on their staff, wanting to get going. The feeling of powerlessness was really getting to them, making them agitated and eager to get out of this cursed place.

“But why didn’t it kill us?”

“We’d be less fun for her, I guess,” Serrill replied, looking up and awkwardly smiling at her friend.

“Fun? What kind of twisted… ugh. And you said that it whispered something to you? Some sort of incantation?”

“Yeah, but none of us knew what it was.”

“Do you remember the words? Or even the sounding of the words?” Aurelia asked, trying to work out what possible spell could have been cast by such a being.

“I…” Serrill, Thistle and Isolde all concentrated, trying to remember what the shadowy demon had cast, but their minds went blank whenever they thought about it.

“I can’t remember,” Isolde replied. “It’s like there’s an empty space in my memories where the words should be.”

“That’s not foreboding or anything…” Aurelia sighed. “Well Magnus is finally coming to, we should do as the demon told us… and go get sacrificed. There goes my plan to run away after the canary ran in…”

“Huh?” Serrill asked, confused.

“It’s clear that the Mistress of the Spire is expecting us now. I very much doubt she’ll let us turn tail and run away. I guess we move forward… and try our best to kill her before she kills us.”

“I… yeah. We can do it, right?” Serrill asked. “There you go. All healed. Should I heal Magnus?”

“From what? A bruised ego? You wouldn’t be able to, that man is so shallow you can’t even make a dent in that ego of his. He has no physical wounds, just… let him lead.”

Standing up and brushing off the dirt from her robes, Serrill grabbed her staff and walked over to Vico, nudging him gently.

“AH WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR YA SCRAWNY ELF!” he cried out, before looking around, seeing everyone looking so… defeated. “What the hell happened to you lot?”

“We got attacked,” Serrill replied, clearly unhappy that the halfling had decided to nap through the whole thing.

“Psh. Shut up. Nah you didn’t. Anyway… let’s go!” he said, hopping off the log, axe in hand, walking off… in the wrong direction.

“Shouldn’t we…?” Serrill asked Aurelia, before being cut off.

“He’ll figure it out when we go in the right direction and he’s all alone. Let him do some work catching up,” she grinned at the pointy-eared elf, before standing up and walking over to Magnus.

“Ah, all healed up?” Magnus replied, sounding full of hope, and not at all humiliated by what had just transpired. Which is just another thing Aurelia hated about that man.

“Yes. So let’s get going. If the Mistress of the Spire sends that out for us just to greet us… I’d hate to see what she sends out if we’re late!”

And so the party, more exhausted than they were before their attempted rest, headed off in the direction of the spire, in an orderly line… ready to face their ‘host’.

And a few minutes later… the halfling joined them, out of breath from trying to catch up.

 

“I’ve seen bigger…” Vico grunted.

“EYO!” Isolde shouted out, holding up her hand for someone… anyone… to high-five her.

The grey Spire that lay before them was enormous. It nearly rivalled the surrounding mountains in its vast height. And as a normal spire, its base covered a large amount of the ground, whilst the tip of the spire looked like it was there to pierce the Heavens.

The weather was vastly improved too, as was the surrounding plant life. Thistle felt a lot better now, as the trees were full of life, the flowers were vibrant and alive… and it was clear that the Mistress had a gardener, as this area in front of the tower was well-maintained. It looked like any other fancy garden in front of a fancy manor. But instead of the large house… there was this creepy looking gothic spire, which just instilled a feeling of dread within anyone who looked up at it.

“We’re… going in there…?” Serrill asked, finding her feet freezing to the spot, not wanting to take another step forward.

“Yes. And we’re going to kill this demon,” Aurelia replied, trying to sound as confident as possible. “All we need to do is find the…”

As she said this, the large, wooden, ornate doors, in the centre of the spire, opened up, creaking as they slowly revealed nothing but a black, murky void.

A voice hissed from the darkness within.

“Enter…” 

“DEFINITELY NOT FOREBODING…” Aurelia’s voice raised a few octaves as she gripped her staff tightly, took a step forward… and pushed Magnus forward, ahead of the group, past Isolde who was still waiting for that high-five she was never going to get.

 

 

 

=======================================================

I'm so happy this is quickly becoming a favourite for some people already!

 

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

 

On 9/18/2024 at 4:13 PM, Bluebird67 said:

So, will whatever it is try to warn them not to go to their doom? Will it be diapered?

Will the information enable the party to Increase their preparedness from 0.1% to 2%?

😈

On 9/18/2024 at 11:36 PM, Baby Jemma said:

So, we have more explanations to why they chose this, a slow build-up to the character's powers, ages, and personalities, and now an interesting watcher! I bet the watcher's going to warn them away from the Spire, that it isn't hostile.

Or I could be wrong, and we get to see them in action!

Oh I do love theories about my stories :3

On 9/19/2024 at 7:18 PM, TerranV said:

Aurelia doing that thing where a player refers to their party members by class and not name.

If you're on Aurelia's good side, you'll be more likely to be called your name.

If you're not... race or class if you're lucky.

🤭

On 9/19/2024 at 8:02 PM, JeweledRefractions said:

Told ya people would like it~

Yeah... well.... nyeh!!!!!!! 😝

On 9/20/2024 at 2:09 AM, Lionsheart said:

I apologize as I know I'm behind already but I just read the first chapter and am admittedly hooked. I am not admittedly a D&D player but always wanted to be, just none of my friends would ever humor my ideas and I'm far too shy to find new people to learn and play with strangers. 😭 

Anywho, contrary to another comment I saw, I actually quite appreciate your bolded names that lead to descriptions for people like myself who have to revert back to the descriptions because I'm not a D&D player and have attention problems. I have to reread things and character/story building so it's a struggle for me, haha. I think it helps a bunch and I am studying your descriptions to remember as I read but will probably go back to page one a few times here.

Besides that, I think I haven't commented on your past stories as I felt like I'd be late to the game to commenting as I'm just a slow reader haha! Also, I tend to read 3 books and stories a week, rotating them so please forgive my last comments. I will try to catch up here today, tomorrow and this weekend when I have more time as I LOVE this!

Also, side note, have you read Inferno by Dante? I read that in high school and one of my creative writing assignments was to write one circle of hell but in the scene of a high school. Your 7 sacrifices in this story make me have the hypothesis that the each sacrifices face a different 'hell' in the Spire for their sins, much like Dante's 9 circles of hell and will pay for their sins/character flaws that I've read... Just a thought that I could be totally off on and I'm excited to read as they go through the Spire! 

I love slow burn ABDL stories by the way - I write too many of them personally so I'm all here for it! Thanks for posting the new story and I will be eating my popcorn and holding my breath for these characters, best of luck to them! Even though this is a different style for you, any style you write I'm here for and I quite like this one. Love it so far and keep up the great work! 👏👏 👏

Oh no need to apologise! I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much!

Yeah, with 7 main protagonists, I knew it was going to be difficult to make it clear who is who, especially when they're all introduced together. So I tried my best to make it clear. I'm glad that some of my things were helpful!

I haven't read it, but I know a lot about it, I've done a lot of research into it at one point. Interesting theory!

Thank you so much! I hope you keep enjoying it as it goes on

[Moon3ye]

i'm really curious to see what the fates of the 7 heroes will be.

[Lionsheart]

Ahh I'm so into this story that I subscribed because now I need more chapters and have no patience lol. Can't wait for the ABDL and other things to unravel! I personally am vibing with Serill... she seems like the most level-headed of the group and should be the leader. I'm casting my vote that she deserves to live through the Spire haha.  Not like my vote matters but this reader can at least grasp at hope of Serril's fate. 😅 Hoping the Mistress likes her enough to keep her ~ maybe become the Mistresses eternal baby at best. Anywho, keep up the great work, love this! 

[Baby Jemma]

Dammit. Given that Aurelia was unconscious, I don't think she, Herta, Vico or Magnus are going to survive. I think it's only the people who were conscious at the time, who received the words from the demon, who will survive.

Still praying for her to be alive, but babyfied, but my hopes are quickly growing slimmer. *sobs* I love my little amoral tiefling warlock baby...

[TerranV]

Someone give Isolde an elevated hand slap so she can put her hand down.

Yeah I'm just gonna write Magnus off as doomed at this point.

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

 

Chapter 5: The Spire

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

As the party entered the Spire, pushing through what felt like a barrier of complete darkness, they emerged, one by one, on the other side.

“It seems… like that darkness is just a barrier of entry, protecting the doorway. It’s illuminated in here and… quite grand,” Magnus called back towards his party members who were still walking through the barrier.

Magnus wasn’t lying, the inside of the Spire was vastly different to the outside. Sure, it still looked gothic and… well… evil, but whilst the outside was just grey stone, the inside was much more… regal.

And once the last member of their team, Isolde, had passed through, the doors violently swung shut, trapping the party within the Spire.

“There’s no running away now…” Aurelia said, stating the obvious.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Serrill whispered, her voice quivering slightly.

“Don’t say you have a bad feeling!” Thistle snapped at the trembling cleric. “Do you know how many parties have perished because they said that? It’s like you want to piss off fate!” 

 

The party pooled together at the bottom of the Grand Staircase and instantly began looking around for dangers, whilst also taking in this very aesthetically pleasing, and very tastefully designed, Grand Hallway.

Well, it’s pleasing and tasteful if you’re a Baron, a Tyrant, a Vampire Lord, even a Demoness, or… just some evil being with more money than taste and a handful of minions you can forcefully enslave to build you such a regal structure.

“Hello?” Magnus called out, much to the annoyance of the rest of his party.

Nothing.

“Don’t just call out like that! You’ll remove the element of surprise!” Herta scolded the human.

“What element? She knows we’re here. That bit is obvious.”

“Yes but we could have tried to sneak around…”

“None of us are thieves or rogues… and our cleric is too wholesome for trickery. We’re not sneaking anywhere,” Magnus replied, rolling his eyes at the dwarf.

“Not with your armour, we’re not…” Aurelia gave him one quick personal jab before turning back to examine her surroundings.

In the centre of this vast, enormous Hallway (which, might I add… was a lot bigger than the outside of the structure made it out to be…), there was a giant staircase. Gold inlay ran up the bannister, plush red carpet with golden fray down the sides of it perfectly draped down the centre of the stairs, covering the obsidian stone that had been intricately carved to produce what was probably the finest set of stairs in the whole Kingdom. This staircase was so wide the whole party could walk up it, side by side, and there’d still be room for a dragonborn or even a full-sized orc.

The carpet that ran down the centre of the stairs was the same one the party were currently stood on, and it seemed to run all the way to the main door, plus all the way upwards into the upper floors of the towers, and then off a couple more narrow paths that steered off from the entrance, towards the back of the Spire’s ground floor.

The walls were also delicately carved out of obsidian, providing a glossy sheen over the dark stone that just exudes ‘Evil lair’. The place was illuminated by candlelight, with sconces lining the walls, but none of the candles looked to have melted down at all, meaning they were probably magically illuminated rather than with the typical method.

Paintings lined the walls, ones that looked like they belonged in a King’s castle. Masterfully painted, they depicted portraits of various races, all smiling… awkwardly. As if they were forced to pose for it. These too were lined with a gold frame, and stood as tall as the average human.

A large chandelier hung above the party, something which Serrill noticed and couldn’t keep her eyes off as she stared in wonder at the hundreds of little crystals dangling from the golden rings, with dazzling light shining through them.

“Okay… dibs on the castle,” Aurelia said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Magnus replied.

“I call dibs. If we kill the bitch, I get her castle.”

“It’s very… you?” the ranger said, her wolf companion pressing against her leg, obediently waiting instructions.

“Why thank you, Herta. See, at least someone appreciates my aesthetic,” grinned Aurelia.

“What if I wanted it?” Serrill spoke up, still entranced by the chandelier.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with a Spire like this. You’re too… immature to appreciate a place as beautiful as this.”

“Nuh huh! I’m not some kind of baby!” the cleric snapped back at the tiefling.

 

“Are you not?” a menacing voice called out. 

No one could determine where this was coming from, as it echoed around the Grand Hallway, making it impossible to trace. It was as if it was coming from… everywhere.

“I… who was that?” Serrill squeaked, gripping her staff and looking around, frantically.

“I think you are…” the voice was so… soothing. So charismatic. So… alluring.

“I’m NOT a baby!”

“Shush…”

Suddenly, without any indication, Serrill’s arm raised and her hand shot up to her mouth. With her thumb extended, she shoved the digit into her mouth and began sucking.

“Much better.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” Aurelia put her arm over the panicking cleric, who was now trying to remove her thumb from her mouth with all her might, to no avail.

“Isn’t it obvious, sweetie? I’m the Mistress of this Spire. And you… are mine now.”

“Not yet we’re not…”

“Oh, you have some fight in you, do you?” The Mistress’ laugh echoed throughout the hall. “Well okay then. Let’s see how far your party gets.”

“How far…?”

“Oh yes, there have been many sent here by those idiotic villagers, hoping that they will be the ones to end my life. But they all failed. They all became… mine.”

“So… you don’t eat them…?” Thistle asked.

“What? Eww! Is that what you’ve been told? Is that what people have been saying in the village? One second…” the Mistress’ once booming voice suddenly sounded a lot more… normal.

Then, as if she had stepped away from the conversation, but was still in earshot, the party could hear her talking to someone in the background.

“Get me the head of marketing. I swear… I am not being known for eating people… eww! We need to stop that rumour right now… NO, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? I’ve been planning this for a decade! No, I’m busy! You do it. Look…. I’ll talk to you later about it.”

This was followed by a long sigh, before the party heard a clearing of a throat, and suddenly their captor was back.

“Hi… sorry… had some business to attend to.”

“Where are you?” Isolde asked.

“Where…? Are you serious? I’m at the top of the Spire! Duh! You need to…” this was followed by another long sigh. “Great. Amateurs again. Fine, let’s give it a shot. At least you’ll provide some entertainment to my Lords…”

“Lords?” Serrill asked. Though it was a lot more mumbled than she had hoped it to be, what with her thumb still stuck in her mouth.

 

Suddenly a flash of light blinded the party, and when they opened their eyes… a red projection of the Mistress stood before them, floating above the grand staircase. Curled dark horns, long flowing hair that draped over her shoulders… She looked just like a demon, though the projection wasn’t very clear. She appeared to be at least four times bigger than our party members… and this was despite it only depicting her from the waist up.

“AHHHH!” multiple party members yelped at the sudden visage that appeared before them, readying their weapons to attack.

“I’d hit that…” Aurelia muttered under her breath, hoping no one had heard her.

“Silly mortals. Coming to MY spire… I bet you intend to kill me and steal everything, correct? Is that what the Mayor promised you?” the Mistress asked the party.

“Correct,” Herta said, proudly, as she had her bow pointing at the visage, arrow already nocked, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“Oh dear. Well you were sold false promises.”

“And why is that, wench?” Magnus replied, trying his best to sound heroic.

“Because you will never kill me. You… you’re all amateurs. You’ll be lucky if you make it past the ground floor…”

“Ground floor? Pff. Fuck that…” Isolde said, putting her lute on her back once again, before confidently striding past the visage, putting one foot on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase… and continuing up. “We just walk up and gut you. Simple.”

Step by step, the egotistical bard climbed the staircase, not even concentrating. If she had, she would have seen the huge grin on the Mistress’ face as her eyes looked up into the corner of the ceiling… as if she was waiting for something to happen.

A large fizzling noise echoed through the hall.

Followed by a slightly charred bard that rolled down the stairs.

With every step hurting her slightly more with each bounce, she rolled all the way down to the bottom again, until she rolled right up to her party members, stopping just before reaching them.

“Stairs… magic… guarded…” Isolde coughed, smoke exuding from her mouth.

“She’ll be fine. That’s just a warning… jolt.” 

You could hear the satisfaction in the Mistress’ voice.

Serrill ran over, blushing, as she looked up at the gigantic vision of the Mistress of the Spire, before quickly dropping to her knees and putting her hands on the injured bard. She was slightly taken aback when she found she could finally remove her thumb from her mouth.

“You’re going to be okay,” Serrill said to her companion. “But it looks like the stairs are off limits.”

“You look good on your knees, elf,” the Mistress teased the healer as she finished mending Isolde.

“I… shut up!” Serrill whined.

“A bratty one too? Interesting…”

“So…” Magnus interrupted the very awkward flirting, putting his hands on his hips, trying to increase his presence. “What kind of game is this?”

“I’m so glad you asked, shiny one…” the Mistress turned her attention back to the rest of the party. “To make it to the top of the Spire, to have any chance at killing me… you have to defeat each of my Lords. You can progress to the next floor once you’ve defeated the current floor’s Lord.”

“Lords?” Aurelia asked. “Who are they and where can we find them?”

“Patience. I’m getting to that. I can see now why your patron likes you so much…”

“My… my patron?”

Aurelia never spoke about her patron. Not to anyone. She had a deal with a higher being in return for power, like any other warlock, and she has never once uttered the terms of her contract, or who this contract is with. All anyone knows is that she is given immense power in return for something.

So for someone so cut off, stuck in a tower in the middle of nowhere… this demon had to have connections… and that, for the first time in her life, scared Aurelia.

“Oh yes. I know her well. She tells me everything. Including… the terms of your contract.”

“I… Shut up!” Aurelia snapped back at her.

“Okay okay… fine, I won’t spoil it… yet. But I can see why she picked someone so intelligent and… lustful,” the Mistress rolled her tongue on that last word and grinned at the tiefling.

You’d have been able to see Aurelia blushing, if it wasn’t for her deep red skin.

“So… these lords?” Magnus turned the conversation back on track.

“Fine. Each Lord controls a floor of my tower. I give them a space to be… themselves. And in return… they give me full control of them, their floors, and their guests.”

“Be… themselves?” Magnus asked.

“Oh you’ll find out soon enough. Defeat a Lord, and you may progress up the stairs. If you try to ascend without defeating the Lord first… well the bard found out what happens.”

“So we just kill the Lord, climb up, kill the next…”

“I never said kill. But yes, if that is the decision you make, so be it. But whatever you do, once the Lord of that floor is defeated, you’ll be able to advance to the next one. On the final floor… you’ll face me. Defeat me and you’ll inherit the tower and all my riches. The village will no longer have to sacrifice anyone ever again.”

“Easy. We can kill a few demons,” grinned the overconfident paladin.

“I never said they were demons.”

“Then what are they?”

“Spoilers…” the Mistress’ visage crossed her arms and grinned at the party.

“Doesn’t matter. We can still kill them. So… where is the first one?”

“On this floor. There are doors around here. But you have to find them first. And with that… I think that’s everything you need to know. So good luck. And remember, if you fail… you’re mine.”

Herta, for good measure, shot an arrow through the visage to check if it could be hurt or not. And as the arrow passed through the illusion, the Mistress turned to the dwarf and rolled her eyes. Herta just shrugged, turned around and walked off in the direction of one of the surrounding doors.

Magnus and the rest followed suit. They didn’t want to entertain this demon anymore, she was clearly getting enjoyment from their suffering, and they wanted this job to be done.

Isolde had recovered at this point, and with the help of Serrill, climbed to her feet, smiling at the elf for helping her. She didn’t actually say thank you or anything though, she just picked up her bag that was lying on the ground where she landed, and quickly caught up with the rest of the group.

“You’re welcome…” Serrill said, frustrated at yet another lack of appreciation.

“Don’t worry… little one… you’ll be appreciated soon enough…” the Mistress whispered ominously as her visage slowly dissipated, leaving a very nervous-looking cleric standing there, clutching her staff with her eyes wide open in fear.

 

 

 

 

=======================================================

Sorry for late chapter today, I usually post it earlier but been feeling a bit under the weather. But here you go! Enjoy!

Also looking forward to see your reactions to the Mistress..... your totally normal reactions :3

 

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

[Baby Jemma]

...I have only known the Mistress for one chapter, and I already love her more than anyone not named Aurelia...whom I'm hoping she babies to the extreme. XDDD

Hoping for the best for the Mistress - er, the party. *grins evilly*

[Moon3ye]

oh this is going to be very entertaining

[JeweledRefractions]

I do wonder what amazing poor fate awaits the party. XD

[LittleFallenPrincess]

 

 

 

Chapter 6: The Ground Floor

Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess

 

 

 

“There’s a door here. Should we try this one first?”

“Well it’s as good as the other one. If this doesn’t lead anywhere, we’ll double back and take the other,” Aurelia replied to the dwarf, pointing back in the opposite direction

Putting all her weight into pushing the large, ornate wooden door, Herta slowly opened it, the hinges creaking as it slowly swung open.

“So we’ve got a psychotic ‘Mistress’, some Lords, and this fucked up Spire to contend with. What else do we have to face to get out of here alive? Oh and did she even tell us how many of these ‘Lords’ we are to kill?” Thistle asked, as they nervously waited for the dwarf to open the door, shuffling about on their feet to keep themselves occupied.

“She was very vague about that… purposely so…” Magnus replied. “She was also very vague when she mentioned the whole ‘killing them’ part. Are we supposed to trick them? Beat them in a game? If not kill them… then what does she have planned?”

“She’s a demon… which means she’s clever… and sadistic,” Aurelia mumbled, clearly frustrated.

“That’s right… She's a demon. She said she knew your patron… so is your patron a demon?” Magnus replied. “You know they can’t be trusted…”

“Oh I know. But yes, she is. And I also know she can betray me at a moment’s notice. But I’m prepared… trust me.”

“What do you give her in return for her power?” the paladin asked, non-so-silently judging the warlock.

“She gives me… the power to say none of your business and stop being so judgey, fucking white knight.”

“I was just…”

“No, you weren’t. You were going to judge me yet again. So back off!” Aurelia snapped at Magnus, who recoiled in surprise at the aggressiveness of his companion.

“Can we please not argue…” Serrill finally spoke up.

“Oh wow… the baby can speak!” Aurelia mocked the cleric.

“I… shut up!”

“What the hell was that back there? I saw the way you sucked your thumb. Did we bring along a baby instead of a cleric?”

“I… I think I’m cursed.”

Thistle waved their hand over the cleric, as if trying to read something on her.

“Yup. You have some kind of magic radiating from you,” they replied, just as Herta managed to finally open the next door in the background.

“WHAT? What magic? Am I really cursed?”

“No idea. I’ve never seen this kind of magic before. But if it’s causing you to suck your thumb… it can’t be that bad.”

“Just means we’ve got extra ammunition to tease you with… not that we needed it to begin with…” Aurelia grinned, making Vico laugh.

Vico wasn’t following along with any of this, but over time he had figured out his party’s facial expressions and knew when he should laugh along with someone.

“I… shush…” Serrill pouted at the rest of her party… which just led to them all laughing at her even more, turning her cheeks bright red as they all walked off in front of her, into the now-open corridor.

 

“This place isn’t creepy or ominous at all…” Thistle whispered. Though because it was an empty corridor… that whisper echoed around and became much more than a whisper, becoming audible to the whole party.

“This part of the Spire is very different to that fancy hallway of hers… which leads me to believe this is the dungeon,.” Aurelia replied, stating the obvious for the less-intelligent party members.

Vico. She was doing it for Vico.

“So what? We go kill some torturer? I bet the place is full of torture devices and stocks and the guy has a whip and…” Isolde said menacingly, trying to scare the more anxious members of her party.

“Stop jumping to conclusions. We don’t know what we’re facing, and we need to be ready for whatever comes our way. For now, let’s just continue on…” Aurelia replied, trying to be the voice of reason and the actual leader of the group.

The party continued down this narrow stone corridor. If it wasn’t for Aurelia’s little light spell, they would be walking into complete darkness. Stone bricks surrounded them on all sides, ones that were clearly very old, and the air was musky, making everybody’s breathing laboured. If any of the party were any taller, they would have had to crouch down slightly in order to pass through, as even the ceiling was lower down than a normal corridor.

They were used to tombs, used to ruins, used to all manner of underground cave systems and old stone buildings… but this was the most cramped one they had ever encountered… and was seeming a bit of a task just to get through, as every now and again one of them would stumble over a loose brick or a bit of root that was sticking out through the cracks of the stones.

But eventually the darkness in front of them dissipated, being replaced by a dim, murky light.

“There! We’re nearly through!” Magnus called out.

Shuffling along, the party made their way to the end of the weirdly long corridor, bursting out into a much bigger room that… they weren’t expecting.

“This isn’t a dungeon…” Vico said, walking around, inspecting the large room.

“No… it’s the stables…” Thistle replied. 

Apparently they took it in turns to state the obvious. Maybe they have a rota, or maybe it’s first come, first serve…

“But you can’t fit a horse through that corridor,” Herta pointed out.

“Door there…” Magnus said, pointing at the large wooden door on the opposite wall.

“You lot are idiots…” Aurelia sighed.

“Why?”

“The important question you should be asking… is where are the horses?”

 

Finding themselves in the stables, the party started looking around. Aurelia wasn’t wrong, there were no horses in this stable, in fact there was nothing in here. No living creature at all. No mice, no rats, no spiders or insects… nothing. It was barren.

Alongside two of the walls were a number of small stables. Large enough for a small horse, but probably not that of a regular size one. Made out of dark oak timber that framed each pen and some iron bars that extended all the way to the ceiling to prevent the horses from jumping over, the stables were stock full of fresh hay, so it was clear they were used somewhat recently. A trough of water sat in each one, though all of them had dried up by now, and was made out of the same dark lumber as the fences. And laying on the hay… were bridles.

“So the Mistress of the Spire has horses. Not exactly surprising… Anyone wealthy in this Kingdom has horses and stables,” Magnus scoffed, ignoring Aurelia’s worried expression.

“They look like they’re well taken care of…” Herta said as she examined one of the stables.

On one of the two remaining walls was a large ornate door that probably led to the outside of the Spire, though it looked to be locked. And if one of the spellcasters had tried to detect any magic… they’d find it was sealed shut and there was currently no way to open it. On the other wall… was the only other door out of this room, along with some shelves and storage closets full of horse-riding equipment. But Aurelia had noticed that it wasn’t the normal horse-riding equipment. She noticed that there were far too many crops for a normal stable. So either they really liked beating their horses… or this wasn’t a normal stable.

That wasn’t what really scared Aurelia though. None of her party had noticed yet, but she had. And as she carefully tiptoed back towards the dark corridor they had just emerged from… Serrill noticed something was up with her party member.

“Aurelia? What’s wrong? You’re awfully quiet… and why are you walking back to the door?”

“This… this place…” Aurelia replied, fear in her voice.

“What about it?” Vico asked.

“Look at the bridles.”

“Yeah? What about them?” Thistle responded.

“Do you think they’d fit a horse?”

Herta picked one of the bridles up, and inspected it.

“This… isn’t a bridle, this wouldn’t fit a horse’s head…” she replied, looking up at Aurelia.

“Exactly. They’re… harnesses. And they’re not for horses…”

“So what exactly? Who are they for?” Serrill asked, innocently.

“They’re for people…”

 

One by one, the party realised just what Aurelia was getting at. First, Herta dropped the harness she was holding and stepped back in disgust. Then Serrill and Thistle figured it out at pretty much the same time, having the same image in their head as they hugged each other, terrified. Magnus’s weary eyes squinted for a bit, before opening wide in surprise, as he too figured it out.

Vico though… he was the only one who didn’t get it.

“So… they’re… people… stables?” Serrill asked, nervously, not really wanting to know the answer to her question.

“I think so,” Aurelia replied, stopping before reaching the door, turning around to see that the door… had disappeared. “Shit! They’ve trapped us in here…”

“Is this what happens to us if we fail? We become… horses?” Magnus asked.

“We don’t become horses… but we’re definitely treated like them…”

Aurelia knew exactly what this room was about, and it seemed like she was the only one… Being the only one with any good amount of sexual knowledge, especially regarding fetishes… she knew exactly what the harnesses were used for and never thought she’d end up as one of the ponies… Sure, she had put a few people in them in the past, but that was consensual fun! This… this was not her thing, and she was terrified of what would happen if they failed.

“So… I’m guessing they’re naked when they wear these?” Herta asked the only person who seemed to know what was going on, Aurelia.

“And… they prance around, or they pull a cart… this is not a fate you should seek, so let’s focus.”

“That’s so weird!” Serrill cried out in disgust. She wasn’t truly disgusted though, as she currently had somewhat lewd thoughts running through her head regarding those harnesses, though she did think it was a bit weird.

“Maybe this isn’t about the Mistress then?” Thistle suggested.

“What do you mean?” Aurelia questioned them, raising her eyebrow at the druid.

“What if this is the Lord of this floor… what if it’s their thing?”

“So… what? He’s just allowed to torture and humiliate people they take, as his own personal play things?” asked Aurelia.

“Think back on what the Mistress said. Each Lord has a floor of their own to be themselves. Which means…”

“That each of these Lords is some kind of freak?” replied Magnus, with venom in his tone.

“Not freak, but… yes, each of the Lords probably has a specific taste. Whether that is sexual or not… we don’t know yet. It could be that this one is sexual and the rest are into… collecting rare frog paintings? We don’t know until we make it past this one. Or… like you so eloquently put it… they could have their own… kink.”

“Great. So what’s this guy into? Forcing people to be ponies?”

“It’s known as pony play… but yes, it appears that way,” Aurelia butted back into the conversation. “Or maybe he just sees people as animals and treats them accordingly. We don’t know if it’s sexual or not yet.”

“You’re certainly knowledgeable about this kind of thing… is there something you’re not telling us?” Magnus looked at the warlock suspiciously.

“As you know, I know a lot about many things. I may have come across people gossiping about this kind of thing,” Aurelia lied.

“...Mhmm…”

“So we can’t leave… Are we going forward then?” Vico asked, still not sure as to what the others were talking about. He was too impatient and just wanted to slam his axe into the skull of whatever ‘Lord’ this floor belonged to.

“I guess so…” sighed Aurelia, taking point and leading the rest of the party towards the only available door… further into the stables.

 

 

 

 

=======================================================

 

I knew you'd like the Mistress :3

 

 

Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one).

The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar!

 

========================================================

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them!

If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!).

Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me.

New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday!

Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

[TerranV]

Raed 5 and 6 together and yeah the Mistress is fun. Love the bit where she broke character.