Prelude

The sound of battle rang out across the vast plain as the armies of light and darkness clashed. The tower of the great red witch loomed in the distance, a pillar of wickedness blotting out the sun as the hordes of undead poured forth from the dungeons beneath it.

Across from it the armies of light, an alliance of Elves, Men, Dwarves, and Orcs, rallied, raising their banners as their warriors marched forward. Magical missiles raked the battlefield, landing among each army as they neared, finally crashing into each other like two opposing waves.

Celtric Hammerspell watched with a grim expression as the wind billowed through his dark hair. For years he’d worked to bring the peoples of the world together to oppose the red witch’s ambitions, and it all culminated in this battle.

He turned towards his companions, his loyal knights and followers who had been with him since the beginning, “The hour of the Red Witch is at hand,” he shouted, walking among them as they watched solemnly. “She is even now preparing herself a new body to transfer her essence into, a body said to be all but invincible… We must stop her from completing this ritual!” They cheered, raising their lances high as the battle raged.

“I will lead a strike force behind their lines, bringing the fight directly to the witch’s tower,” Celtric continued, “I must warn you, there will be no retreat, this attack will succeed… or we shall all perish.”

“I don’t care!” a girl’s voice called. Tulip, the orc girl he’d taken under his tutelage, pushed her way to the front, “I’m with you to the end Celtric!” she grinned and clapped her hands together, producing a pair of magical fireballs that hissed in the air.

Celtric’s face softened, and he couldn’t help but smile, “If a girl like Tulip has courage to face the Witch, surely I can count on the rest of you?” The men cheered as they mounted their horses, galloping to the edge of the battle to ready for the charge.

“This is it, isn’t it?” the young green skinned girl murmured, walking up to him, “time to get revenge for mom and dad, and everyone else from my clan…”

Celtric sighed, “Tulip… you’ve been very brave, gods know I tried to find a good home for you after the witch destroyed your village… but you stuck to me like glue.” He smiled and ruffled her hair.

She grinned, “You’re the best magic teacher a girl could ask for, even if you are a stuck up humie!”

“This last mission…” he glanced around, “Tulip, it’s more dangerous than anything we’ve done before, it’s a move of desperation…”

“I know,” she said solemnly, “I’m ready, I’ll stay close to you and- HEY!” she grunted as a massive orc warrior picked her up, tucking her struggling form under his arm.

“Thank you Terrack,” Celtric sighed, “Take her somewhere safe.”

“I will take her far away,” he muttered, “where the battle will not reach us.”

“You can’t do this Celtric!” Tulip screamed, pounding her fists feebly against Terrack’s back as he turned to leave. “You can’t make me stay behind.”

“I’m sorry,” He said, looking away. I’ve asked so many others to die for me today, he thought bitterly as the girl’s protests turned to sobs, I won’t ask you to do it too Tulip.

He sighed, gathering his thoughts and steeling himself. His dwarven made armor clanked ominously as he marched through the camp, and he rested his hand on the pommel of his enchanted blade as he inspected the troops one final time. With a flourish he leapt into the saddle, his dark green elven made cloak billowing behind him as he drew the blade, rearing up his horse.

“Onwards, to victory!” he shouted.

Behind him the finest horsemen of a dozen kingdoms and peoples thundered down the hill, cutting a path to the gates of the fell witch’s fortress. Celtric cried havoc as he cut down scores of undead, trampling the bones beneath his war steed’s hooves. The next wave of defenses was the witch’s black knights, those evildoers who had sworn allegiance to her for the promise of gold, power, or desires too dark to ponder. They were a hardier force than the walking skeletons and zombies of the first wave, but still no match for the furious charge.

Soon the host came to the gates of the witches fortress, and Celtric leapt from his saddle, raising his sword high. There was a boom of thunder, and a second later a bolt of magical energy lanced down from the roiling clouds, blowing the forged iron gate to twisted and glowing rubble.

“Inside! Quickly!” he shouted to his men, forcing his way into the dread fortress while the armies outside surged around them like the waves of an angry sea.

His remaining knights fought their way to him, swinging their swords and hefting shields as they met with the hardened black armored knights that waited within. Each inch was paid for dearly as the attackers climbed the stairs of the massive stone tower, and soon Celtric found at the highest level. He glanced back at his men as he felt the ominous dark magic just beyond it, and with a sigh realized he had to face the Witch alone.

There was a loud *boom* as Celtric’s spell blew the rooftop door open, and he twirled his sword defiantly as he walked out through the smoke. The rooftop was clear save for a raised platform in the center, where a featureless body of clay covered in glowing red runes waited.

Her new form, he realized, a powerful homonculous, unbeatable…

“Ah, Celtric, I’d wondered when to expect you.” She walked out from behind the platform, her high heels clacking ominously on the black stone.

Eliza the Red Witch was a picture of statuesque beauty. She stood over six feet tall, with an ample chest and curvaceous behind that was only made more apparent by the form fitting red outfit she wore, one that clung to her like a second skin, just barely obscuring her pale flesh. Jet black hair fell in curtains from beneath a wide brimmed crimson hat that brought shade to her gleaming yellow eyes.

“It seems you weren’t fast enough,” Celtric said, looking up at the homunculus.

She threw back her head in a mocking laughter, “My creation is only minutes from completion, and the final spell will seal my soul within it, rendering me immortal and invulnerable!” She gave him a lustful look as she stalked towards him, “I could be convinced to spare you and your pathetic friends though Celtric, if you would agree to give me your hand in marriage!”

Celtric scowled angrily, “I would never stoop so low! Your reign ends here!” With that he leapt at her, shouting a battle cry as he slashed at her with his sword and sent waves of roiling green lightning at her with his free hand.

Eliza just laughed, gliding backwards and matching him blow for blow, causing shimmering shields to appear in the air to block his sword and spells. Celtric grunted as the first of her fireballs burst upon his chestplate, the dwarven armor absorbing and dispersing the magic before it could harm him.

“That armor makes a fine crutch for your lack of skill with magic!” Eliza taunted.

“Lack of skill?” Celtric laughed, flicking his wrist and sending her flying across the stone floor with a gust of wind. “I’m one of the finest mages in the alliance!”

“You may as well brag that you’re the tallest halfling!” Eliza retorted, gritting her teeth and rising again. This time there was real hate behind her magics, corrosive slime appeared from the air, stinging his skin, bats made of some shadowy mist flapped over him, trying to fight and scratch at him as he dispelled them one after the other.

“You’ll never win!” Celtric grunted, holding his sword up and absorbing waves of fell energy that radiated from the witch’s hands as she tried to cook him alive.

“I already have fool, look!” she pointed out over the rim of the tower, to the battlefield below. Celtric’s voice caught in his throat as he saw the alliance’s armies were faltering, the lines breaking as the witch’s seemingly endless hordes overran their positions. A second later there was a rumble, the earth shook as a pillar of white light descended from the clouds, lighting the raised pillar in the center of the tower. Eliza grinned, “Your armies have been crushed, and my new body is ready!” she taunted, stepping towards it.

Celtric looked down at his armor, his face pale. It was cracked, the dwarven runes broken and fading, the metal itself seeming to erode like hot wax.

There’s no time to try anything else, he realized, I’ve got to give this one last charge everything I’ve got!

With a roar he sprinted forward, raising his sword high. The witch raised her hands, sneering as she prepared another blast of energy, but at the last minute Celtric turned away from her, bringing his sword down on the still humanoid form of the homunculi body.

“NO!” Eliza screamed, blasting Celtric with every curse and attack she could muster.

Celtric screamed in pain, but managed to twist his sword, killing the homunculus before it took its first breath. As the energies locked within raced along his arms, mixing with the witch’s magics, his body began to disintegrate, blowing away like ash on the wind as the clay homonculous crumbled in turn. There was a final blinding white light, and the magical body exploded, pieces flying in all directions as the last of Celtric’s form disappeared in turn.

One of those pieces of enchanted clay, still smoking from the heat of the combined magical energies, tumbled down the side of the tower, landing in an obscure spot beneath some shrugs and boulders. As the battle raged around it, it cooled.

Slowly, as days passed, months, years, it began to take form, recreating the essence it had absorbed.

…

Chapter One: Recalled to Life

Celtric gasped as his eyes shot open. He sat upright, panting. He was in a cave of some sort, with light trickling in from somewhere. He realized he was naked as the rough soil scratched against his skin, and he stood up right, climbing up the piled boulders and out of the cavern he was in.

“What in the gods name…” he murmured.

It was the field in front of the Red Witch’s tower, only it wasn’t filled with armies, it was overgrown with grass and wildflowers, stretching as far as he could see. He looked up at the tower itself and gasped, it was a burned-out ruin, with no trace of the powerful sorceress who had once dwelled within.

“Impossible,” he whispered. He reached out with tendrils of magic, hoping to detect any sign of the Witch, of any mage, but his probing mind found no other spellcasters.

The next thing he noticed was just how much larger the ruins of the Witch’s temple had become, they towered like mountains. With a nervous gulp Celtric lowered his gaze, looking at the grass and weeds that now towered up over him, and the “cavern” he’d escaped, which was no larger than a rabbit’s burrow.

“Gods above, I’m… I’m…” he took a deep breath, No, he decided, you’ve clearly been cursed with some sort of size reduction spell, not the Witch’s usual bag of tricks to be sure, but it stinks of her! He started as he realized he was covered in strange red runes, and as he experimentally harnessed his magic, they glowed up and down his body. Definitely the witch, he decided, I need to find someone who can remove these runes and undo this!

He started out across the field, walking through the waving prairie grass as though it were a massive forest.

After a moment he chuckled, slapping his own forehead, Walking across this field will take forever at this size… He summoned his magic, feeling it course through him as he called the wind. Odd, he thought, watching the runes glow, it’s almost like it’s… easier? He put it out of his mind, leaping into the air and flying across the field like a grasshopper, covering hundreds of feet… Well several feet, with each jump.

…

Despite his size Celtric was able to utilize his magic to cover a decent amount of ground, but he was quickly finding that none of the villages or camps he remembered from the buildup to the battle remained. Finally, after nearly a day of searching, he spotted a collection of tents, orcish by the looks of them.

He leapt again, slowing his descent and skittering along the dusty ground as he looked up at the towering tents, looming like the massive stone towers of the finest cities on the continent. With a sigh he dusted himself off, strutting proudly into the village.

“Hey, someone used magic over there!” a woman called.

Celtric winced as the earth shook, and a moment later a pair of massive green legs filled his vision. His eyes trailed up, and a pair of armored green women with spears loomed over him like mountains.

Don’t panic, he told himself, the orcs are your allies!

“Hello!” he said with a wave, “I’m-“

“Look at that Turla,” one muttered, leaning over and squinting, “that’s a tiny human!”

“Humans aren’t tiny Betty,” the other one, Turla muttered. She poked at him with her foot, causing him to fall over into the dirt with an indignant grunt. “Also they usually wear clothes, they don’t just go naked like this guy.” Before Celtric could react she bent down, wrapping her tree trunk thick fingers around his body like pythons, squeezing him tight as she lifted him up to her face. “What are you?” she demanded.

“I’m human!” he snapped irritably, “I’m just… temporarily small!”

“I don’t know about that,” Betty grumbled, “He could be some kind of spy from the Witch!”

“The witch?” Celtric said eagerly, “I’m her mortal enemy, Celtric Hammerspell! Mage-General of the Alliance?”

The two orcs just started laughing, “Oh that’s a good one humie,” Turla chuckled, “There ain’t no alliance anymore!”

“N-No alliance?” Celtric asked, stunned.

“And Celtric Hammerspell died fifteen years ago, the witch killed him!” Betty finished.

Dead? FIFTEEN YEARS!?

“Listen,” he said eagerly, “I am Celtric Hammerspell, you need to get me to whoever is in charge here immediately! I can sort this all out!”

“Hey Turla,” Betty asked with a grin, “You remember anything in those stories about Celtric Hammerspell being three inches tall?”

“Nah,” Turla said with a wave, “he was supposed to be a real looker, handsome and tall and all that, I feel like someone would have mentioned it if he could fit in your hand.”

“It’s obviously a trick,” Betty laughed, “let’s bring him to Thundra and let her figure out what to do with him!”

“He does look right about the size for eating…” Turla laughed, licking her lips and letting her warm breath wash over Celtric.

“Whoever Thundra is, bring me to her at once!” he shouted angrily. Maybe their chieftess can resolve this…

Part of him had hoped for something to cover himself with, even doll clothes or a loose cloth and some string would have sufficed, instead the two guards tossed him into a brass birdcage, laughing at how he gripped the bars, looking like a forelorn prisoner as they carried him through the camp.

Where are the men? He wondered with a frown. The camp was naught but women and children, while orc women were known for their ferocity in battle, it was odd to see none of their menfolk back at camp to guard it while the rest were away.

The tent at the head of the camp was larger and more elaborate than the rest, with bison skull totems posted outside and glimmering multicolored beads on lanyards hanging over the door.

“Hey Thundra,” Turla bellowed, “come take a look at what we’ve caught!”

“I thought I told you I was not to be disturbed!” an angry woman’s voice shouted out from the dark tent.

Turla gulped, looking at Betty for support, but the other green woman was backing away, her hands raised defensively.

“I am attempting to divine a course of action,” Thundra growled, staring out at them from the shadows, “I cannot meditate if I am being interrupted for every stubbed toe and skinny rabbit-“ she paused, sniffing the air. She slowly stood up, stepping out of the shadows. “What is that smell?” she demanded, “What is…” She glanced down at the cage, fully stepping into the daylight. “Gods above,” she whispered, leaning close to the cage, “C-Celtric?”

Celtric looked up in awe at the gorgeous green face. It was more mature than he remembered, a woman in the place of a girl, sharp with years and with long dark green hair down her shoulders. She was bigger too, with muscular arms, and a bust that barely fit into the tight leather armor.

Still, there was no mistaking her, “Tulip?” he gasped.

“Nobody’s called me that in…” she chuckled, “A long time…” She sighed, taking the cage, “I’ve been meditating on a solution to our problems… I guess the gods sent me one.”

“Tulip, I don’t understand, what’s-“

“It’s Thundra now,” she said sternly, carrying him into the tent, “and you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

…

“S-So it’s all over?” Celtric asked, sinking to the ground in shock, “She won, she conquered the world.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Thundra bellowed, slamming her fist on the ground so hard that it shook the tiny man before her. “There are still plenty of us fighting, even fifteen years on, and now that you’re back we can start getting the Alliance back together and turn this resistance into a full blown rebellion!”

“But I’m…” he looked down at his body, “I don’t know how this happened, but I can’t dispel it, I think…” he gulped, “I’m starting to think it’s not a curse, I just am this size now.”

Tulip, no Thundra now, just laughed picking him up by his arm, dangling him in front of her face, “Yeah you’re tiny now, and it looks like your magic is tiny too…” She snapped her fingers, letting a small spark hover over them a moment before wisping out in a puff of smoke, “Still, as strong as you always were, the man I remember was most valuable because of who he was… Teaching us, leading us!”

“And what am I supposed to do if someone simply wishes to flick me over?” he asked despondently.

Thundra shrugged, “I’m big now, and I’ve been practicing magic and fighting for years, I’ll fill in for whatever brawn you lost.”

He sighed, “You’re right, I owe it to everyone to keep on fighting, even if I’m… like this.”

“That’s the spirit, we’ll set out for the Kingdom of Alregon first, they’re the human realm most likely to join us, especially if you’re back!”

“My old homeland,” he said wistfully, “if it’s under the witch’s yoke I’d see it freed first…” He grimaced a moment, “I don’t suppose you have a doll or something I could borrow clothes from?”

“Not a lot of orc girls play with dolls,” Thundra laughed, “but we’ll figure something out…” She leered at him a moment, her enormous eyes rolling over his body with a lustful look. “Tell you what, you take a load off in here while I start getting some stuff ready for our trip.”

“In whe-“ his question was cut off as his tiny body was roughly stuffed in between the orc woman’s massive breasts. He fought for a moment, as if he were treading water on the sea, but her green finger came down and slowly, but firmly, pressed him beneath the surface of the twin mounds of green flesh.

Thundra couldn’t help but giggle a little at the ticklish motions of the tiny man trapped against her chest. She’d always had something of a girl’s crush on Celtric, one that had blossomed into fantasy after his disappearance. The return of the fabled hero, and the man who had saved her so long ago, was igniting a lot of conflicting feelings in the orc.

Celtric might finally bring some hope to this world, she thought, walking out of the tent and barking orders to the nearest group of guards. She watched them go, readying her horse and traveling supplies, still thinking, Celtric… you always had so many girls trying to get your attention, I was like a little sister at best… She grinned smugly to herself, now I have the opportunity to change that, don’t I? She stopped, scowling at herself, Focus Thundra, you need to be his muscle for now… She slowly smiled, then when the battles are all won you can be more.

…

Eliza the Red Witch’s eyes shot open, “Impossible,” she whispered to herself. She’d been meditating over her crystal ball, scrying the land to find any sign of the rebel orc chieftess Thundra, but instead she’d been graced with a familiar essence, a scent on the magical winds that was impossible to mistake for anyone else.

“Celtric!” she sneered angrily, storming out of her room. Her acolytes all snapped to attention, racing behind her as she marched down the halls of the massive fortress, “Prepare hunting parties,” she ordered, “and ready a bounty of one hundred thousand gold coins for a capture or kill!”

“A-And who would be the target?” Tabitha, one of her cultists, asked fearfully.

“Celtric Hammerspell,” she scowled.

Tabitha gulped, looking back at the rest. She was a small woman, made smaller still beneath the looming visage of the statuesque Red Witch. With short cut pearly white hair and pale red eyes, the effects of Tabitha’s own dabbling in dark magic were readily apparent, but her skill paled before that of her mistress, and fear was evident on her face as she broached the question.

“C-Celtric Hammerspell is dead mistress,” Tabitha said slowly, “he’s been dead for-“

“He’s alive,” Eliza growled, “I don’t know how, I don’t know where, but he is alive. I will not let him throw my plans to ruin again!”

“Ruin mistress?” Tabitha asked, “but you’re the queen of all nations, ruler of the world!”

“I didn’t want to be a queen,” the Red Witch seethed, “I wanted to be a GOD! And that fool Celtric destroyed my homunculus avatar, the sorcery put into that can never be recovered!”

“And why is that mistress?” Tabitha questioned innocently.

“Because I killed the wizards who helped me make it, fool, now go! Put every resource towards finding Celtric! Or I’ll have your hides!”

The acolytes jumped to attention, racing in all directions as they scurried to carry out their mistresses orders. Eliza watched them go, glowering angrily at the thought of Celtric walking the earth once more. She giggled suddenly, indulging in the thought of what she would do to him if any of her servants managed to bring him in alive.

Oh Celtric, she mused, you’d make such a good little husband for me, if only I could get you properly under control. She sighed, imagining Celtric with his eyes glazed over in proper adoration for her, rubbing her feet, carrying her things behind her, putting that handsome face between her legs for hours on end. She practically squealed in excitement, part of her almost hoped her bounty hunters would manage to capture him alive… but that was a fantasy, what force could ever overwhelm the mighty Celtric Hammerspell?”

…

“Unhand me!” Celtric gasped, fighting feebly against the orc’s fingers as she easily pinned his wrists with her thumbs.

“I just want to get a look at those runes,” Thundra muttered, “before you cover them all up!”

“T-Thundra, please,” he blushed, “W-We can study them later, perhaps when the entire tribe isn’t present?”

A dozen grinning female orc faces were behind Thundra, jostling for position to look over her shoulder at the handsome human man. Tiny or no, evidently he was quite the piece of eye candy.

“All right, sure,” Thundra chuckled, letting him up and handing him down a small doll’s robe. With a sigh he put it on, it didn’t quite fit him, but it was certainly better than going naked. “Right, let’s get going,” Thundra said, standing up and grabbing him off the small desk. She walked through the camp, barking orders as she went, “Turla, you’re in charge, avoid fighting with any loyalists and keep the tribe out of harm’s way. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but you’ll hear from me soon, I promise you that!”

She stopped as she looked at her horse, then grinned at Celtric, “Okay small fry, do you want to ride in the saddlebags, or up with me?”

“Up with you of course,” Celtric said, raising an eyebrow, “why would I want to go in the-“

The orcish women of the tribe cheered as Thundra once again slid him into her open cleavage, jostling her breasts slightly so he was wedged between the titanic green pillows. This time she left him enough room that his head stuck out at least, letting him see the world as she hoisted herself up into the saddle.

“I know it’s been a while, and I’m the big one now,” Thundra laughed, “but I’m glad to be on another adventure with you Celtric!” With that she kicked the side of her horse, setting it off at a gallop across the plains while the orcs whistled and chanted for their victory.

The great city of Alregon, capital of the titular kingdom, was a pearly white stone settlement that could be seen reflecting the rising sun for miles around. In the center of the city was a towering spire, the central citadel where the royal family ruled.

Thundra had pulled her hood low over her face, hiding from the townsfolk as her horse trotted through the streets. Celtric was concealed in her saddlebag for a change, but he frowned as he peered out, seeing his old homeland’s capital city. Black armored guards patrolled the streets, bearing the markings and standards of the Red Witch. His own people scurried out of the way as they passed, and his blood boiled as he saw one of them grab an apple from a merchant’s cart, biting into it and sneering at the man rather than paying.

“Make way!” their leader called, “make way for her Lady’s tribute!”

Thundra led her horse to the side, and Celtric watched in awe as a massive cart went by, covered in glittering gold, bottled perfumes, silk fabrics, and other treasures.

She’s robbing our kingdom blind! He thought angrily. Once the Queen sees I’m back she’ll rally our soldiers and kick these people out.

As the tribute caravan went by, Thundra continued the journey up to the castle. A pair of Alregon’s own soldiers guarded it, and they readied their weapons as she approached.

“Halt!” one called, “The queen will take no visitors today!” Thundra thew back her head, causing the man to gasp, “An orc!? But you were scattered-“

“She missed me,” Thundra growled, “I’m Thundra, High Chieftess of the western orcs, I demand to speak with your queen immediately!”

The guards gulped, keeping their weapons ready, “S-She’s the Red Witch’s vassal now, she can’t harbor the likes of you!”

“I bring word of the return of Celtric Hammerspell,” Thundra said.

The guards were silent, “Truly?” one asked finally.

“Truly,” Thundra repeated.

“Go then,” the guard muttered, standing aside and gesturing for a guard on the wall to open the gate, “The Queen is in her throne room, but be warned, she is always in a foul mood on tribute day, and if you are lying about the return of Celtric…”

“Off with my head, yeah yeah,” Thundra muttered, spurring her horse forward.

Celtric listened to the exchange from his spot hidden in her saddlebag, Queen Matilda… you were just a girl when we last met, but your father was brave and true, and my King… Surely I can convince you to rise up and take your realm back?

…

Matilda had been a mere princess when Celtric had known her, a good natured, if spoiled, girl who was more interested in socializing with other noble ladies than the affairs of her father’s kingdom. Now she was a proud looking and sharp faced woman, dressed in white and with her father’s jeweled crown on her head as she gazed imperiously out at the throne room.

Her guards flanked her, and she drummed her fingers impatiently along the armrest of the elegant throne, “Thundra,” she said in an icy tone, “It’s been some time.”

“Yes, the last time we talked was when you said you wouldn’t harbor orcish resistance fighters anymore,” Thundra spat.

Matilda rolled her eyes, “You may throw your lives away if you wish, I will not throw away my own people’s. The only reason you’ve been allowed to see me is that you claim to have contact with Celtric Hammerspell? I suspect he’s long dead, but I’m curious enough to hear you out.”

“He lives,” Thundra said, reaching into her bag.

Celtric felt the powerful green fingers curl around him, and steeled himself to face the crowd of giants. Light stung his eyes, but he kept a steely face and a firm footing in Thundra’s palm as she held him out. He was dressed in Doll’s clothes, the most noble looking ones Thundra could find, and while he lacked a weapon he summoned magic to his hands, letting lightning ball in his fists as he spoke.

“Queen Matilda,” he said with a grin, “Celtric Hammerspell, at your service once again!”

The queen stared at the inches tall man in Thundra’s hand. The throne room went silent as the nobles up and down the hall nervously looked to one another, to Celtric, and then to their monarch.

“Is this a joke?” she growled finally.

Celtric blinked, “M-Matilda, you know me, I served your father, remember?”

“I did know Celtric Hammerspell,” Matilda said sternly, standing up and walking towards Thundra, the clack of her royal shoes against the polished stone floor echoing with each step. “Celtric Hammerspell was a brave warrior, no doubt, but he failed when he was needed most, and as a result my father died a depressed and broken man.” She sighed as she reached Thundra, glaring down at Celtric and filling his field of vision with her disapproving gaze, “Even if you were the real Celtric Hammerspell, and not some amusement or toy, why would I want to raise my family’s soldiers for him again?”

He cleared his throat, doing his best not to flinch, “Because the Red Witch is a tyrant, and her shackles need to be thrown off of this kingdom!” he declared, “we can raise the alliance again, strike her down-“

“Like we did last time?” Matilda asked in a almost bored voice. “The alliance is broken and scattered to the winds. We are left to live in peace so long as we pay the witch her tribute, while her yoke does chafe me I will not rise up against her unless there is some chance of victory.”

“B-But I’m back,” Celtric stammered, “I can lead us!”

Matilda rolled her eyes, snatching Celtric up and squeezing him tight, causing a grunt of pain.

“The real Celtric Hammerspell was six feet tall,” she muttered, looking him over, “and he wasn’t covered in these tattoos,” her finger lingered over one of the runs on his cheek, poking at it. “I have half a mind to toss you to the ground and stomp you into paste for wasting my time.”

“Watch it,” Thundra growled, raising her hand and manifesting a ball of flame.

Matilda glanced at the orc mage and then to her nobles, “Then again, it would be quite the mess, wouldn’t it?” The chuckles and mocking laughter of the court made Celtric’s face burn with rage, once upon a time he would have giving them all a few jolts of lightning for such mockery, but now…

At this size I’d be lucky to shock one of them, he thought miserably. He let himself be dropped back into Thundra’s hand, and she lifted him up to her shoulder.

“So what now?” Thundra asked angrily, “if you’re too cowardly to help us, what then?”

“I won’t imprison you, if that’s what you were wondering,” Matilda sighed, “Go Thundra, come back to me when you have something or someone who can meaningfully challenge the witch… Until then? Don’t darken my doorstep again.”

“As you wish, your majesty,” Thundra muttered, turning to go.

…

Celtric didn’t say a word as Thundra rode out of the city, the stinging humiliation of his homecoming had been worse than he’d expected. He glanced back over the orc’s shoulder as she rode out of town, forlornly wondering if he would ever see his homeland free again.

“Matilda certainly didn’t inherit her father’s bravery,” Thundra sighed as they started down a deserted road that led back into the countryside.

“No,” Celtric said, looking down, “She’s right… I can’t fight the Witch like this, it would be foolish to call her kingdom to war over me.”

Thundra sighed, “Celtric…”

“I need to think,” he muttered, “Can you…” he sighed a the humiliation of what he was about to ask, “Can you please put me in your saddlebag while you prepare camp tonight?”

“Y-Yeah,” she said, stunned, “Of course…”

…

Celtric crossed his arms behind his head, looking up at the thin sliver of light that crept into the saddlebag as he lay across the bottom. The thick smell of dried leather hung in his nostrils, and he heard Thundra moving around outside, a colossus to him like everything else.

What can I do for anyone at this size? He wondered. His magic potential had reduced in size with him, and while his spellcasting itself was as intricate and complex as ever, he didn’t have the power to use it effectively in battle. A part of him believed that, even now, he could face most assailants and come out on top, if he was quick and struck well, but his days of single handedly routing entire divisions of enemy soldiers were over.

A green hand lifted the saddlebag’s flap, and he sighed, “Thundra, I’m not quite-“

The hand grabbed him, and he grunted as the chubby fingers greedily wrapped around his body. Too late, he realized that these weren’t the slender and calloused hands of the orc, and as his new captor pulled him close to gaze at him in excitement, he couldn’t help but gulp nervously.

A goblin!?

She had green skin, and a short stature, or would have been short if Celtric had still had his size. The creature was slightly chubby, with expansive breasts that hung out of a simple sackcloth dress. She pinched Celtric by the ankle, holding him upside down and furrowing her brow as she watched him flail.

“Put me down!”

“Nope, finders keepers!” she said with a grin. She glanced over to the camp, where Thundra was placing a stone ring for a fire. The orc hadn’t noticed them, and the goblin’s massive thumb pressed down on Celtric’s face, muffling him as she quietly snuck away through the brush.

Her finger was slightly grimy, and he fought against her as she giggled, pressing her thumb into his face not just to silence him, but to torment him as she escaped.

They soon came to a small clearing with a thatch hut. Another Goblin was outside, sharpening a knife as long as Celtric’s body, causing sparks to flash each time she drove the blade along the stone.

“Mushroom!” the goblin called, “Lookit what I found!”

This Goblin was a little older, with longer hair and a scowl on her face as she saw the other approach, “What is it Cupcake? More garbage?”

“No!” Cupcake called excitedly, “It’s… I don’t know what it is, it looks liked of like a human!”

“Then put it back,” Mushroom said crossly, “Humans are mean.”

“They are not,” Cupcake said, “They’re sexy!”

Mushroom rolled her eyes, “Okay, yeah the male ones are, but they’re still going to chase you off with pitchforks if they see you near their farm, so what’s it matter?”

“This one can’t, he’s tiny!” Cupcake said eagerly, holding the doll sized Celtric out to Mushroom.

Mushroom frowned, squinting her eyes at Celtric as if not sure what she was seeing, “That a doll?”

“No! He’s alive, look!” Cupcake removed her thumb from Celtric’s mouth, shaking him back and forth and eliciting a panicked shout.

“U-Unhand me right now!” he demanded.

“I’ll be damned, that is a tiny human,” Mushroom said with a smile, “Quick, bring him inside!”

The two goblins entered their shack, and Celtric grunted as he was tossed onto a small table, quickly scrambling backwards as a pair of eager and curious eyes looked down at him in awe.

“I-I’m Celtric Hammerspell,” he stammered, “so you know what will happen if you don’t bring me back to my friend!”

The two goblins looked at each other curiously, “Celtric who?” Cupcake asked, scratching her head.

“Celtric Hammerspell?” he asked incredulously, “The hero of the war?”

“I think I remember something like that,” Mushroom said with a shrug, “I was just a little girl though, didn’t really pay much attention to it, did you win?”

Celtric scowled, “Well of course didn’t win, look at me!” he gestured down to his tiny appearance, “How is it that you two have never heard of any of this?”

“We don’t leave the woods much,” Mushroom replied, “we mostly just rob passing humans, and sometimes try to get the cuter ones to come back to the shack for some fun.”

“It never works though,” Cupcake said solemnly.

Celtric scowled, “Well I’m sorry, but I’m on a very important mission, I’ve got to liberate the land, and-“

“Yeah, we’ll get to that,” Mushroom said, picking him up, “but for now, I’m thinking that we’ve been looking for a human for way to long to pass this opportunity up!”

Celtric balked, looking up at the green skinned giants, “Surely you must be joking? At this size we couldn’t share a bed even if I wanted to!”

“Let’s test that!” Mushroom said, scooping him up. Celtric squirmed in her grip as the grubby fingers pried his clothing off like the peel from an orange.

“Whoa!” Cupcake said, leaning in as his manhood sprung free, “he’s got a big one! Or at least it would be, if you weren’t… you know.” Celtric gasped as a green finger gently rubbed up his erection, causing the goblins to giggle.

“I think Mr. Hero likes it!” Mushroom taunted.

Celtric was about to reply, but before he could Mushroom had lifted up Cupcake’s sackcloth dress, revealing a pair of beige panties underneath. She pressed him forward, first smushing his body against the warm green surface of the goblin girl’s bellybutton, then sliding him down along it. Her fingers dipped down, sliding the underwear away from the other goblin’s skin, then with a final gentle shove, she forced Celtric down through the gap.

Is this really happening!? Celtric wondered in a haze. He’d certainly had his share of women, and he was no stranger to the rich ripe smell of the fairer sex, a smell that filled his senses and made his head light as his back tumbled against the stretched fabric of her panties. The top of the underwear snapped shut, pressing him harshly against the curled mat of the goblin’s jet black pubic hair.

“Oooh,” Cupcake groaned, “He feels pretty good in there.” She stumbled back from Mushroom, her hands over her crotch to keep the squirming human from escaping her panties.

Celtric growled, as he struggled, getting tangled in her pubic hair and grimacing as the pungent slime from her nethers coated his body.

I’ll show her! He gathered up his magic, readying a jolt to the most sensitive spot on her body that would surely knock her out, even at this size. The darkness inside the goblin’s underwear briefly lit up, but his eyes went wide as a blue shield shimmered into place, dispersing most of his magical energy.

“O-Oh no,” Cupcake grunted, crossing her legs and quivering as an orgasm rocked her body out of nowhere, “H-He did something!”

Celtric growled as he wiped the sticky cum out of his eyes, redoubling his efforts with another magical blast.

Cupcake stumbled for a chair, then collapsed to the floor, mewling in pleasure. Mushroom watched in awe as she rolled over onto her back, her panties occasionally flashing a burst of blue as Celtric tried spell after spell to incapacitate the giant goblin.

“H-Hey! Stop that!” Mushroom roared. She leapt to the ground, pulling Cupcake’s panties down in flash, causing a naked and soaked Celtric to tumble across the floor. She snatched him up and held up by one hand up before her furiously angry face. “What did you do to her?”

“G-Guys, I think I’m going to take a little rest,” Cupcake giggled dreamily.

“I tried to stun her, but her innate magic blocked it,” Celtric panted, staring down at the stunned goblin. “Has she got any magical training?”

Mushroom frowned, “What? No, she can barely read, and I taught her that!”

A goblin with enough innate magical power to reflexively block spells? Celtric thought. The gears in his head started turning, and slowly he realized that perhaps being abducted by these hoodlums wasn’t the nightmare it had appeared to be at first.

“Well now,” he said, giving a grin he knew women loved, “What if we could help each other out?”

“Hmm… well it does look like you helped her pretty good,” Mushroom muttered. “Okay, sure I’ll get you off before you go up my snatch, do you want me to do with my fingers or my mouth?”

Celtric balked, “No, I meant help each other with something else!”

Mushroom stared at him a moment, “You… wanna do butt stuff?”

“I can teach her magic!” Celtric spat, gesturing at Cupcake, who was slowly sitting up, swaying slightly with a goofy grin.

“Okay, that sounds useful,” Mushroom admitted, “What’s the catch?”

“You two join my quest to defeat the Red Witch!” Celtric said excitedly, “Think about it, adventure, a chance to change the world for the better! Your sister’s magical potential means she could possibly challenge Eliza herself one day!”

Cupcake stood up, walking to join Mushroom, “I don’t know,” Cupcake muttered, “I mean, that was pretty good, why don’t we just keep you here and keep using you to get ourselves off?”

“But the Witch,” Celtric protested.

“I don’t know, she hasn’t really been impacting us one way or the other,” Mushroom shrugged, “I’m kind of leaning towards keeping you as our pet.”

“It won’t be bad at all!” Cupcake grinned, “We’ve got this nice glass box we used to keep our old pet snake in, and you could stay in there! We’ll get you leaves, and food, and-“

The door burst open, flames licking around the frame. The two goblins screamed, tumbling to the ground as a towering figure lowered herself to get under the door.

“All right Gobbos, where is he!” Thundra bellowed.

Celtric groaned, in the commotion he’d been tossed onto Mushrooms prodigious chest. The slow rising and falling of her breath was lifting him up and down as he tried to get his bearings on the squishy terrain, waving to the towering orc.

“I’m here!” he shouted, “HERE!”

“Back off Orc, he’s ours!” Cupcake shouted, grabbing a kitchen knife and hefting it menacingly.

Thundra just rolled her eyes, reaching around her back and pulling her axe free. She stared the goblin down a moment, before Cupcake gulped and wisely dropped the blade.

“Good choice,” Thundra drawled, “Okay Celtric, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait!” he shouted, giving Thundra pause. “We need to take these Goblins with us!”

Thundra glanced at them, “They don’t look like much.”

“Hit that one with a fireball!” Celtric said excitedly, pointing to Cupcake.

“WHAT!?” Cupcake and Mushroom squealed together.

“Celtric that seems a little extreme of a punishment for goblin mischief,” Thundra said uncertainly.

“Just do it, trust me!” Celtric said eagerly.

Thundra frowned, but lifted her hand, conjuring a fireball and tossing it at the goblin. Just before impact a blue shield rippled into place, dispersing the attack before it could do more than singe the tips of Cupcake’s hair. She still fell backwards with a surprised grunt, but as she stood up it was clear she wasn’t hurt.

“Quit shooting spells at me!” Cupcake shouted.

“Huh, I see your point,” Thundra mused, “She’s definitely got potential… but she’s a bit wild, isn’t she?”

“So were you,” Celtric retorted. “Besides, we don’t have much of a choice, I’m a few inches tall Thundra we need to build a new Alliance, and that means we’ll need some new allies.”

“And if we don’t want to go?” Mushroom asked.

“Yeah, sorry, after kidnapping Celtric here I think you gave up that particular option,” Thundra chuckled, “besides, if we win we’ll all be rich.”

Mushroom and Cupcake glanced at each other, then grinned, “Okay!” Cupcake said, “I’m in, can’t wait to learn magic! I need to know some spells that are good at getting through town guard armor.”

“I’ll go get my bow and my poisons,” Mushroom said, “How far away is this Red Witch lady? How many friends has she got, ten? Twenty? We can take ‘em!”

“I’m already regretting this,” Thundra muttered as the goblins packed their things.

“They’re eager,” Celtric replied, “And beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Fair enough,” Thundra nodded. She sniffed the air a moment, “it smells like cunt in here…”

“That’s me,” Celtric sighed, looking down at himself.

Thundra glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, “Did one of the goblins put you in her…”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Celtric said quickly. Part of him was worried at strange smile that crossed Thundra’s features, what is she thinking? She can’t possibly find that amusing!?

“Right, I’ll be sure to discuss it later with you,” Thundra laughed. She plucked him off her shoulder, taking in his naked body again and fighting the urge to repeat what the goblin had done then and there. “For now, let’s just get you back to your favorite hiding spot. Thundra’s powerful fingers quickly maneuvered Celtric between the massive green pillows of her breasts, and she gently tucked him down and out of sight.

…

Eliza the Red sat cross legged before her crystal ball, humming under her breath as she sought out her servant, Tabitha.

“Mistress!” Tabitha cried, her eager face appearing in the crystal ball as the magical threads connected the pair.

“What news have you of Celtric Hammerspell?” Eliza demanded.

“He’s been spotted in Alregon!” Tabitha said, “Queen Matilda claims ignorance, but one of her nobles is loyal to us, and he said that Celtric came to meet with her!”

“I should have known he’d go to his old homeland to raise his forces again,” Eliza growled, “When will they attack?”

“There is no attack mistress!” Tabitha giggled, “They turned him and his orc friend away!”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, “Curious… Queen Matilda is even now plotting rebellion, I know this well, why would she reject Hammerspell’s aid?”

Tabitha almost burst out laughing, “He’s only three inches tall!”

Eliza balked, “W-What?”

“He’s not even the size of a doll!” Tabitha exclaimed, “When we catch him, we could keep him prisoner in a jar! And that’s not all, he’s covered in strange tattoos now too!”

“Tattoos?” Eliza rasped. “Do you know what they looked like?”

“No mistress,” Tabitha said, “nobody got a good look at them.”

Those are runes, she thought to herself, Celtric’s covered in runes, and he’s small now? Her eyes lit up as she realized what it meant.

“The homunculus body,” she said, stunned, “the one I made all those years ago, some small piece of it must have survived, and since Celtric was the last one to touch it, it absorbed his soul!”

“H-He’s in your homunculus!?” Tabitha squealed, suddenly afraid.

“Rest easy,” Eliza muttered, “He doesn’t know how to use it, and even if he did, he’s still only a small fraction of it… but with him, I could recover the secrets that went into its creation!” She stood up, holding the crystal ball with her, “I could rebuild it! Become the goddess I should have been!”

“Yes Mistress!” Tabitha said, awed.

“Find Celtric,” Eliza ordered, “bring him to me at all costs!” With that she dropped the crystal ball, letting it thunk back down to the cushion as the connection ended.

The Red Witch stalked through her chambers, a goofy grin on her face, I’m going to do it, I’m going to be this world’s goddess, and Celtric will be mine too! That last thought gave her pause, but he’s only a few inches tall now… She huffed irritably, the fantasy of those powerful arms wrapping around her as they made passionate love in her chamber vanished. In its place she imagined herself staring down at the tiny Celtric, naked and ready to…

She stopped, rubbing her chin.

Celtric as my tiny pet does sound fun, she reasoned, perhaps even better than my loyal husband and love slave… She glanced at her bookshelf, several of the tomes were outright pornographic debauchery, and in the long years since his death she’d commissioned no less than seven erotic romance novels about Celtric and herself, but in her wide array of sexual fantasies and experiences a three-inch-tall lover was absent.

“This calls for some experimentation,” she muttered. She walked to a small box on the wall, it was a speakerbox powered by some manner of dwarven ingenuity she didn’t understand, but it let her talk to her servants who didn’t possess magic without having to go address them directly. “Send one of my consorts up,” she ordered.

A few minutes later the doors to her chamber pushed open, and a muscular young man in a sleek and revealing skintight outfit stepped in, “Eager to serve my lady,” he said in a low voice.

She smiled, running a finger down the young man’s chest, he leaned in to kiss her, but she muttered a series of spells under her breath, mixing a number of enchantments to get the desired effect. There was a flash, and then the consort was looking up at her, three inches tall and naked, his clothes pooling around him.

“M-Mistress!?” he squeaked as the witch knelt down, snatching him like a fleeing mouse.

“Hush darling,” she said with a wicked grin. She let a finger run over his bare chest, and she suddenly found herself loving the way he quivered in her grip. “I just need to try a few things,” she said in a soothing voice, “To… see how things might be.” So far I like this a lot…

The consort gulped, “I-I live to serve!”

“Remembering your training even now?” Eliza chuckled. “Good boy, I’ll make sure you live.” With that she strutted towards her bed, eager to try new things.

“Imagine threading a needle,” Celtric said in a low voice, “your magic is the thread, your spell is the needle-“

Cupcake nodded, a drop of sweat rolling down her brow as the shield charm shimmered around them, adding another layer of magical protection.

Celtric was sitting on the goblin’s shoulder, watching her practice her spells. She was powerful, that was certain, but her technique was non-existent.

“So you’re telling me that Cupcake over there had magic all this time?” Mushroom asked, lounging against a nearby tree.

“Yes, it’s likely that, isolated as the two of you are, she simply never needed to use it,” Celtric explained, “if the fastest horse in the world never ran, how would he know if he was fast?”

“You don’t need a fireball when bit of crownspider venom smeared across a spear will kill just about anything,” Mushroom muttered, holding one of her arrows up to the light to admire the glaze.

“Most of the people we’re going to be fighting have armor thick enough that you might as well be spitting at them with that thing,” Thundra growled, stepping into the clearing.

“I’ll aim at the gaps,” Mushroom said idly, “besides, I don’t really think I’ll be sticking around on some big battlefield anyways.”

“That much I agree with,” Thundra sighed, “I know you always said it’s up to every individual to make a difference Celtric, but we could really use an army or something.”

“I didn’t start with an army last time either,” Celtric said, “and even if we regain the loyalty of the kingdoms I expect we’re always going to be outnumbered on the battlefield… Magic is good, and so is skill at arms, but we need something more, we need some tricks up our sleeve that only dwarven engineering can give us.”

“The dwarves are mostly on the Red Witch’s side these days,” Thundra shrugged, “they’ve built her horseless carriages, airships, and those railed roads that carry the big trams along them, they use steam to move somehow… supposedly there’s no magic involved.”

Celtric paled, “W-What!? Those are all things Yrsa told me she was going to invent!”

“Yrsa…” Thundra muttered, “I think I remember her, she never traveled with us, but you went to talk with her sometimes?”

“She built the cannons that won us the battle of Glacier Bay,” Celtric said, “and the turbines that let our ships move against the wind!” He collapsed onto the goblin’s shoulder, running his hands through his hair, “have such wonders truly become commonplace?”

“Well, depending on where you are,” Thundra remarked, “the thing with the Witch is she’s more of a taker than a builder, you’ll only find her people building big machines in places she goes a lot. Sometimes she takes one of those big flying things to visit Alregon, but she’s not building them their own anytime soon.”

“We need to go see Yrsa,” Celtric muttered, “She would have never joined the Witch, and I doubt she’ll have moved from her old workshop.”

“Where was it?” Thundra asked, “you never took me with you.”

“It’s on Talon peak,” he said, “it’s only a few days from here!”

“I guess we should get going then,” Thundra said with a shrug, “but I haven’t heard anything about her since you disappeared.”

“Uh, guys,” Cupcake muttered, a droplet of sweat rolling down her brow, “I’m kinda losing control of this spell!”

They all watched, horrified, as the shield spell came unraveled, energy crackling through the air, “Take cover,” Celtric ordered, leaping down from the Goblin’s shoulder. He landed on the ground with a grunt, raising his hands and readying himself to absorb the blast.

“Celtric, you can’t-“ Thundra began, but they were cut off by a crack like thunder, followed by a blinding flash.

Celtric grunted as the spell hit him, muttering incantations under his breath as he tried to shield them all. He clenched his teeth, feeling the wave crash into him. Catching a broken spell was easy, something every novice had to learn, but at his size it was less like the simple maneuver he’d practiced as a child, and more like trying to hold back a wave on the ocean.

With a roar he summoned all of his magical might, containing the roiling coil of magical energy, finally dissipating it with a hiss. His legs felt like jelly as he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. The ground rumbled slightly as the two goblins and the enormous orc looked down at him, concerned.

“You should have let me take it Celtric,” Thundra muttered, “are you okay?”

“Just… need… to catch… my breath,” he panted.

“I don’t think so,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she bent down to pick him up. He was limp, dangling from between her fingers as she brought him up to her massive green face. “Yeah, you’re spent.”

“I’m sorry,” Mushroom said apologetically, “I-I’ll get it next time, I promise!”

“It’s okay,” Celtric groaned, “We just need to adjust our training.”

“You need to remember you’re not big anymore,” Thundra said, her voice rising, “you don’t have the same magical power you did at full size!”

“I can’t let that slow me down!” Celtric protested, “the world needs!”

“ You need to rest and recover after that,” Thundra growled, bringing him down to her cleavage. The two goblins watched, spellbound and more than a little aroused, as she pushed a struggling Celtric down between her breasts.

“Y-You can’t just stuff me in here-“ Celtric was cut off, muffled by the massive green orbs as her finger came down, pushing him deep enough that he was hidden from view.

“Watch me,” Thundra said with a smirk.

“So what’s the deal,” Mushroom asked curiously, “Are you the human’s lover?”

Thundra blushed, “I-I’m just his old friend!”

“Damn, can I be his friend next?” Cupcake teased, shaking her breasts suggestively, “I’m pretty sure he’d like a ride in mine!”

Thundra growled an unheard response under her breath, but started down the path again. The two goblins followed her, giggling at her reaction. Between her breasts she felt Celtric’s struggling stop as the mix of his exhaustion and the unyielding walls of soft green flesh took their toll, and she chuckled to herself as she realized he’d fallen asleep.

That’s right Celtric, just relax there, she thought, we’ll find this Dwarf woman of yours…

…

“Talon Peak?” the innkeeper asked, “nobody goes up there but outlaws and criminals.”

“Well that wouldn’t be us,” Thundra said, “We’re uh… bird watchers.”

The man glanced over the bar at the two unkempt goblins suspiciously, furrowing his brow. Mushrooom and Cupcake waved back to him, smiling.

“I ought to throw you out for even inquiring about the peak,” the innkeeper grumbled, “but being an orc, it wouldn’t be right.” He glanced at the inn’s common room, empty save for one drunk bent over sleeping at the bar, and the man’s own wife, polishing the tavern’s glasses. “We should have fought the Witch with you,” he said in a hushed tone, “one of these days we’ll rise up, I know it!” He reached under the bar and produced a room key, “no charge, but don’t tell anyone where you slept tonight.”

“You have our thanks,” Thundra nodded.

Later, in their room, Thundra laid Celtric down on the pillow, “Did you find anything out?” Celtric asked, looking up at her.

“I guess the mountain’s got a bad reputation,” Thundra said, crossing her arms, “but nobody said anything about a dwarf that I heard.”

“Then there’s something still up there,” Celtric said with a grin.

“Well whatever it is, I hope it’s rich,” Mushroom grinned, “any chance this dwarf lady might have left some bags of gold laying around?”

“She dealt more in copper,” Celtric said thoughtfully.

“Hey, what’s the team policy on playing with Celtric?” Cupcake asked suddenly. “I could use some uh, relaxation. ”

“I’m not a toy!” Celtric snapped.

“He’s the most brilliant mage and warrior of our time!” Thundra nearly shouted, “you two are to show him respect.”

“What? We totally respect Celtric,” Mushroom laughed, looking to Cupcake with a wink, “we just also want to get off, if anything I think that’s a way bigger show of respect than bowing and scraping!”

“I know things are done differently in the swamp,” Celtric began, “but-“

“How come she gets to shove you in her tits whenever she wants?” Cupcake asked, pointing up at Thundra.

“It’s the safest place to hide him!” Thundra retorted, “there’s uh… padding, and he’s warm!”

“Don’t you have pockets though?” Mushroom asked, pointing to Thundra’s trousers.

Thundra’s green face flashed red, “T-This conversation is over, everyone get to sleep!”

…

The trek up the side of the peak was easy, too easy, and Celtric rested on Thundra’s shoulder, scanning the trees warily.

“What kind of abandoned mountain has such a well maintained road?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“The innkeeper said criminals and bandits come up this way, maybe they keep it up?” Thundra asked.

“I haven’t seen any sign of bandits,” Mushroom shrugged, “Usually I’d have spotted them by now if they had a scout or something.”

“It doesn’t make sense that criminals would come up here though,” Celtric muttered, “it’s not on any merchant routes, and the only town around here is down at the base of the mountain, not nearly enough targets to support even a small group of outlaws.”

“So they’re coming for something else then,” Cupcake said with a shrug, “maybe there’s good hunting up here?”

“Nope,” Mushroom said, “I haven’t seen any wild game besides a skinny rabbit.”

“Huh, you know I think that maybe those guys are coming up here for that,” Thundra said, pointing further up the cobblestone road.

A large bronzed gate was hewn into the side of the mountain, with ornate geographic shapes molded into the sides. As they approached a black box atop the doorway crackled to life.

“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice called, “State your business?”

Celtric’s eyes went wide, “Yrsa, it’s me, Celtric! Open the gate quickly, we’ve got to talk at once!”

There was silence on the other end of the black box, then a crackling exhale, as if someone were breathing out slowly. The sound of metal on metal came from behind the gate, and a moment later they all jumped back as the bronze gate clanked open on it’s own, a burst of steam clouding the inside as the engines worked.

“Come in then,” the voice called.

“All right then,” Thundra said with a grin, “I guess she does remember you!”

As soon as the four of them crossed the threshold, the bronze gates behind them slammed shut, the speed deceptively fast after the slow creaking way they’d opened.

“What the hell!?” Mushroom cried angrily, readying an arrow on her small bow.

There was another crackle as the electronic voice boomed from overhead, “Who the hell are you people? And who told you my mother’s name?”

“Mother’s name?” Celtric’s brow furrowed, Yrsa’s daughter!? He tried to remember her name, he’d spent little time with the girl, who hadn’t been more than five or so when he’d last walked the earth.

“Ylva!” he cried suddenly, “Listen, it’s me Celtric, remember? Your mother’s friend?”

“Listen up Celtric, I sell weapons out of this cave, and I deal with some pretty rough types, so if you think you’re going to play around with me? I can trigger a dozen things to kill everyone in that room.”

“Guess that explains why all the criminals come up here,” Thundra muttered. “I say we blast our way out.”

“Wrong answer!” Ylva’s voice crackled over the speaker.

A pipe extended from the ceiling, and a moment later a jet of hot blue flame belched out of it, ready to roast them all alive. Cupcake and Thundra raised their hands together, shield charms manifesting in an egg shaped shell around them that glinted white, deflecting the flame.

“Magic huh?” Ylva taunted, “I’ve got some answers for that too!”

There was a skittering sound, and a wave of beetles emerged from the wall, scurrying down towards them. Thundra shouted in surprise, hurling a fireball down at them and sweeping another wave away with her axe, sparks flying along the floor as she did so.

“Mage-eaters love the taste of magically infused flesh,” Ylva taunted.

“Huh,” Mushroom muttered, readying her bow, “these guys look a lot like croc beetles back home… I’ll bet that-“ she loosed her arrow, taking out a single red beetle in the swarm of black. The creatures shrieked, twitched, and then slowly stopped moving.

“How did you know to do that?” Thundra marveled, looking over at the goblin.

“They’ve got one bug that controls the whole swarm,” she said with a shrug, “although the ones I know of usually just eat fruit and stuff, not people.”

“Hey! Do you know how hard it is to cultivate a colony of those!?” Ylva shouted angrily.

“Ylva, stop this at once!” Celtric shouted, “This is Celtric Hammerspell, I know you know who I am! Now come down here and speak to me, or we’ll tear this fortress apart piece by piece!”

“Like you could,” Ylva muttered, “but whatever, I’ll come talk to you Celtric, the rest of your people have to stay down there though.” There was another clanking sound, as if gears were turning behind the walls. A tiny doorway at the base of the room opened up, no more than a foot tall. “That’s a door for fairies, it’s a little big for you, but it should work,” she teased.

“You’re not seriously going up there, are you?” Thundra whispered.

With a sigh Celtric leapt down, fighting the instinct to panic at the massive, to him, drop before he hit the ground with a soft grunt.

“I am,” he replied, “I might not be what I once was, but I’m never going to be a coward, no matter what size I am.” With that he walked through the small doorway, leaving his protesting comrades behind him.

Flickering yellow overhead lights lit up as he walked, revealing a hallway that was the closest thing he’d seen to his own size in some time. It was still ominously large, fairies were anywhere from six inches to a foot tall compared to his own four inch height, but it was something. A few moments later he emerged in a large atrium, massive desks towered overhead, with strange half assembled metal objects atop them, and piles of tools and dirty rags seemingly lain around the floor at random.

A hiss startled him, and he turned to see another pair of sliding doors open with a puff of steam, admitting his host into the atrium.

She was a dwarf, that was for certain, the stocky four foot body with the wide hips gave that away, and like most dwarven women she carried a prodigious chest that shook up and down as she walked, drawing the male eye. She had red hair, tied in a pair of braids, and beneath the smudges of grease he could just barely make out freckles as she walked towards him, finally stopping as she loomed overhead, hands on her hips. Beneath the pair of goggles she wore, he could make out bright blue eyes.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Well… Here I am?” he said weakly, throwing his arms open, “Celtric Hammerspell, at your service!”

“And my mother? Where is she?”

Celtric frowned, “I’d come to ask you the same thing… She isn’t here?”

“I thought she was with you,” Ylva sighed angrily, “Come here!” she bent down, sweeping Celtric up in a gloved hand, the smell of sweat, leather, and engine grease mixing in a dizzying aroma as she carried him deeper into her sanctum, regarding him curiously. “So why are you small, is this how you’ve been hiding from the Witch?”

“No, it’s not a curse, it’s… complicated,” he grunted, squirming against her grip.

She grinned and squeezed a little tighter, “I have to say, I kind of like this… human men are already so fair and delicate,” she shivered, giggling with glee as she ran a gloved finger over his head, mussing his hair, “this will just make you more fun to play with.”

Celtric scowled, his patience with being “played with” having run its course. He muttered a quick spell under his breath, and a dagger of pure light appeared in the air, angled right at the dwarf’s throat. She stopped, gulping as the tip pressed gently into the front of her neck.

“I might not be as big as I once was, but the right application of a small amount of force can still do wonders,” he said icily, “Now tell me what happened to your mother!”

Ylva nodded, sighing with relief as the dagger vanished, “O-Okay, she was here with me for a few years, then she said I had to go stay with my uncle because she was going to find you.”

“She went looking for me?” Celtric asked, stunned, “but everyone thought I was dead!”

“She didn’t believe it!” Ylva said, “she said if there’s no body, then Celtric Hammerspell isn’t dead!” She chewed her lip a moment, “I mean, looking at you she was kinda right…”

“She’s a brilliant woman,” Celtric sighed, “So I don’t suppose you know what happened to her?”

Ylva’s face darkened, “after she left, the Witch’s people started building things using a lot of her old designs, I don’t think she’d have ever willingly given them up… I just figured that she found you, or the Witch got her. I haven’t seen her in over ten years now.”

Celtric sighed, fighting the urge to break under yet another emotional blow. Ylva stared at him awkwardly a moment, wondering if the tiny human warrior was going to cry. Finally he looked up at her, his face that same determined mask it had been a minute ago.

“I think I owe her the same consideration she gave me,” he said firmly, “if there’s no body, she’s still alive.”

Ylva smiled and nodded, “Yeah, that’s the spirit!”

“Now then,” Celtric said with a grin, “you say you sold weapons? They must be good if people are willing to come so far!”

Ylva beamed, carrying Celtric through the hallways of her fortress to a large storeroom. She threw it open, and Celtric looked up in awe at the amazing array of instruments of death and destruction.

“Now my mom was always big on building stuff to get from place to place,” Ylva explained, “Me? I’ve always preferred building stuff that breaks other stuff.” She placed Celtric up on her shoulder, hefting up an ominous looking device with a single long blade with sawlike teeth up and down the length. She pulled a cord, and a moment later it roared to life, the blades spinning as foul smelling fumes filled the air, “I call this one the chainsaw,” she said proudly, “it’ll cut through the finest armor like it’s warm butter.”

“That’s terrifying,” Celtric marveled.

“It’s pretty scary, yeah,” she chuckled, shutting the device off and picking up an egg shaped object, hefting it in her hand. She strutted over to what appeared to be some manner of indoor archery range, complete with target dummies that had been torn to pieces. She produced a small match, striking it on the wall and then bringing it up to the string atop the “egg.” Celtric watched, spellbound, as she threw it as hard as she could downrange.

“AH!” Celtric shouted in surprise as the blast sent him flying off her shoulder, landing with a grunt on the hard stone floor. He groaned, looking up, then went quiet with shock, a crater had appeared where the target dummies had been, and he hadn’t felt the slightest tinge of magic.

“I call them dragon eggs,” Ylva said, reaching down to pick him up again. “So, how many would you and your friends like to buy? Since you knew my mom I’m willing to give you guys a very generous discount!”

“Buy?” Celtric said uncertainly, “Er, I thought you’d want to come with us? To find and possibly avenge your mother?”

“Go with you guys?” Ylva snorted. “You’re going after the Red Witch, right? You want to finish that old feud?”

“That was the idea, yes,” Celtric said impatiently.

“Look, I don’t know why you and the Red Witch broke up, but is it really worth another war over?”

“Broke up!?” Celtric shouted indignantly, “I never courted that foul harlot!”

“That’s not what her official biography says,” Ylva said with a shrug, “but hey, history is full of inaccuracies. Anyways, if you aren’t buying anything you guys can stay in my guest room for the night, but then you’ve got to get out of here, the last thing an arms dealer needs is a bunch of fugitives hanging around, you know?”

Celtric sighed, “I need you and your weapons to win this,” he said quietly, “is there anything I can say or do to make you join us?”

Ylva’s eyes narrowed, then a grin slowly traced over her features, “Marry me!”

Celtric balked, “You’re joking?”

“No, I want a rich and famous human husband, and more importantly I want the mining rights to your family’s land!”

“There’s no gold or any other valuable metals on the Hammerspell estates!” Celtric protested.

“Humans don’t know about petroleum yet, right?”

“Petrol-what?” Celtric asked.

“Nevermind,” Ylva giggled, “I’ll worry about it once we kill the witch. Is she immune to corrosive chemicals?”

“Yes,” Celtric said flatly.

Ylva raised an eyebrow, “Well, I do like a challenge.” She hefted Celtric in her hand a moment, “Now, let’s get those pants off so I can examine my new fiancé.”

Celtric sprawled out on her gloved palm as she reached for the hem of his doll’s pants, pulling at them. Celtric squirmed as they slid off, revealing his manhood as it sprang free.

“Fucking human men,” she growled, “you just drive me crazy!”

“All right you’ve seen it,” Celtric growled, “and you know it works!”

Ylva’s face went as red as her hair as she angled him for a better look, “ Yeah it does,” she murmured. “Okay, I’m going to go bring your friends up. I need a day or two to get some stuff together, then we’ll set out.”

With a giggle she brought him down to the hem of her pants, casually sliding him inside. Celtric shouted in surprise as he slid down the front of her cotton panties, ruzzed and slightly damp from her sweat. She pulled her pants closed again, sealing him in the humid darkness. He turned and shifted, quickly becoming tangled in the forest of red pubic hair as she walked, shivering excitedly from the sensation of his movements between her legs.

“Settle down,” she giggled, cupping her hand over her crotch and adjusting his position through the fabric. She reached her control panel, hitting a few buttons and opening the main entryway for the rest of the group. She sighed happily, collapsing into her swivel chair.

…

“You agreed to what!? Thundra hissed angrily.

They were all seated around a table in Ylva’s makeshift kitchen, and the dwarf was smirking smugly as she handed them plates. Celtric was in the center of the table, working his way through the agreement he’d made.

“It’s the only way to secure her help,” Celtric sighed, “and besides, it’s better than whatever arranged marriage with a stuffy noblewoman I’d have been forced into anyways.”

“You could have married for love,” Cupcake deadpanned.

“Yeah,” Thundra growled, “you could’ve done that.”

“Hey, we might fall in love,” Ylva said with a grin, “I’m already in love with hearing stories of the vast riches of the Hammerspell estates!”

“Celtric, what’s the Kingdom of Alregon’s policy on polygamy?” Thundra asked suddenly.

“It’s allowed under rare circumstances,” he said with a frown. “Such as if a noble line is about to die out, only one male heir for example.”

“You didn’t have any male siblings or cousins, right?” Thundra asked in a tired voice.

“No,” Celtric said curiously, “Why do you ask?”

“Good news dwarf,” the orc said, getting up with a sigh, “you get to live. I’m going to bed everyone.”

Celtric watched as the towering orc woman walked up a small staircase leading up to the bedrooms, “What was that about?” he asked obliviously.

“Uh…” Mushroom looked to Cupcake, who just shrugged awkwardly.

“Hey, don’t worry about her,” Ylva said with a smirk, grabbing Celtric again. “I think we’re all going to get along just fine!” She grinned as she slowly wedged him between the pale orbs of her breasts, grinning as she ate her meal.