The prairie beyond the mountains was vaster than anything Vann would have expected, having spent most of his life in the densely forested and hilly settlers’ territories, so much open space seemed unnatural. He looked up at a blue sky stretching endlessly over a brownish green waving plain, it was almost like the sky was just waiting to suck you up into it.

“Hey! Mush!” a tiny hand lightly slapped the top of his head and he scowled, picking up the pace as he carried Enid closer to the rest of the group.

Vann frowned, Eletha had tried to go to the front of the group, to discuss their route with Chadwick as she often did, but he seemed to rebuff her, waving her away after a few words Vann couldn’t make out. Eletha paused, and by the time she started moving again Vann, Enid, and Tyra had overtaken her.

With a huff and a sigh Eletha trudged along with them, “You guys?” she said suddenly, “I uh… I feel like maybe I’ve done something bad…”

“Oh, is the wisdom of the immortal elves leaving you stumped?” Tyra asked with a smirk, “you really can’t figure out why Chadwick might be upset with you?”

“Wisdom,” Enid snorted, “well, now you know why the elven leaders, who have supposedly been around since the dawn of time, go and ask seventy-year-old humans for advice when they run into a problem.”

“Hey,” Eletha snapped, “we are very wise, and king Glarahel is just… trying to be nice and let the humans have a seat at the table!”

“Your king has been around since the dawn of time?” Vann asked, raising an eyebrow.

He wishes, Zenovia snorted, he was there since the dawn of CREATION sure, but that’s a whole different thing. Vann ignored the goddess in his head, looking to Eletha for an answer.

“Yes, as the gods proclaimed the elves were the first race to walk the earth, and we’ll be there when this world ends,” Eletha said proudly.

“Well, good for you,” Tyra said with a shrug, “I’m planning on being dead then.”

Eletha just rolled her eyes, “well, I probably will be too, I live what you might call a high-risk lifestyle by hanging out with humans all the time.”

“Well, if we’re so bad, why not just go back to the elven kingdoms?” Vann asked curiously.

“Because she can’t,” Enid giggled, “she’s too into you guys, she’s… hooked.”

Tyra regarded Eletha with a smirk, “is that true elf? Is it really so much better living with us ‘boorish human oafs,’ I believe is your usual term?”

Eletha’s face burned red, “yes, okay!?” she snapped, “I go back home every fifty years or so, and nothing has ever changed! The same people, doing the same things, the only people who have any interesting news are the other elves who are out wandering the world. If you want, I can tell you exactly where everyone in my family is right now, to the inch Tyra! I do not exaggerate when I say I could walk through my hometown blindfolded and not run into anyone, because I know what they’re doing every single day.” She sighed, “out here in the wider world everything is constantly moving, people are doing things! It’s worth risking that I might die one of these days to be out here doing things too.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Tyra said, chuckling.

Eletha just scowled and turned away. Any further conversation was cut off as Chadwick held up a hand, bringing their small column to a halt. Enid leapt off Vann’s back with a sniff and bounded up on the ridge, soon the six of them were gathered, looking across the grasslands to a small amount of movement on the horizon.

“Look there,” Chadwick muttered. The party gazed at a long column of dust, lifting into the air like an approaching banner, signaling the approach of a large group over the dry prairie. Rumana produced a spyglass, handing up to Chadwick, who quickly snapped it open, sweeping it across the prairie. “We’ve been spotted,” he scowled, handing the spyglass to Tyra, who sighed too as she handed it down to Vann.

He blinked, adjusting the strange piece of glassware, he’d never used such, but it was easy enough. Holding it close to his eye, he looked at the column of dust and started a moment as it appeared a goblin riding a tusked pig of some sort was right in front of him. He gulped and zoomed out, seeing that there was a group of maybe a hundred of the creatures, all waving curved steel swords over their heads.

At the front of the group a tall green woman rode a horse, a smug expression on the orcess’s face as her black armor reflected the midday sun. A tall spear held a banner behind her, a flaming skull with gold coins for eyes. Vann watched as she reached to her side, covering her face and dark green hair with a spiky black helm as the group behind her reached a frenzy.

“Did you see that orc at the front?” Chadwick said with a nod to Vann, “that’s got to be who is organizing them.”

“An orc sounds plausible,” Enid mused, “for maybe a few dozen… goblins aren’t much smarter than dogs, they naturally gravitate towards what you might call… bosses.” Enid squinted her eyes, “that’s a big orc though.”

The riders were on them quickly, and the six of them prepared a line at the top of the hill. The howling and bellowing echoed towards them over the plains, a cacophony that seemed to build as they grew closer. This was no mere tribe of goblins, a legion of horribles, clad in a dozen mismatched armors with bits of bone and steel armor shimmering as their porcine mounts swayed like ships on a stormy sea.

At their head, steady in the saddle like an iron obelisk in a storm, rode the orc. Eletha growled, and held out her hand, calling out a trio of words in a quick spell that caused the air around the black destrier charging to them to explode in a pillar of fire and smoke. The prairie wind cleared it almost instantly, revealing the black armored figure unharmed, red magic-guard runes glowing on her pauldrons and breastplate. Vann could swear he heard a woman’s laugh, high and chaotic.

“She’s protected!” Eletha shouted.

“Use your spells on the mob behind her,” Rumana shouted, pulling a long red tube of some sort from her belt. Vann watched as she brought a small device up to it, there was a click, a few sparks, then a shower of them as a long string attached to the tube lit, hissing and smoking as Rumana prepared to throw it.

Vann gritted his teeth and began manifesting his own fireballs, hurling them like stones at the oncoming mob. He kept them from being too large, feeling his height drift downward by a few inches as he cast. The last thing he needed was to overdo it and end up at a few inches tall on this battlefield…

Rumana hurtled the red tube through the air, and a moment later there was a boom like thunder, dirt and rock flew and Vann jumped, as did everyone else in their party, looking wide eyed at the crater that had appeared before them. The goblins had paused too, magic could be used to call lightning, spit fire, and a number of other things, but that kind of noise was simply unheared of.

The dust cleared and the orc sat up, her helmet blown clean off as she blinked in a daze. There was a sound like crunching gravel as she forced herself to her feet, looking at the massive hole that had opened up just in front of her. Her horse was gone, running away across the prairie screeching in panic. She growled as she watched it go, then pulled a massive broadsword from her back, with a scream she started running towards them again, and a moment later the goblins resumed the attack, though the momentum of their initial charge had certainly been broken.

“Here they come!” Chadwick shouted, hefting his own blade.

Vann gripped his staff in front of him like a spear, shouting spells as bursts of flame and sparks knocked goblin after goblin from the saddle, keeping them from getting close to him.

There was a crack, then another explosion, Vann spun around, half expecting to see Rumana had thrown another stick of… whatever that had been, but instead the explosion seemed to be from a long leather whip, glowing red now as the orc swung it again for another strike. It moved like a snake, snapping and biting at the orc’s commands, a living thing that obeyed her thoughts. Chadwick, Tyra, and Rumana were all being forced backwards as the pig-riders pressed the advantage, Enid waved her hand and a wall of sunflowers burst from the ground, slowing them slightly but not stopping them.

THAT TROLLOP! Zenovia screeched suddenly, Vann, that is MY whip! She must have looted it from my temple! Vann, retrieve it at once!

Vann looked up at the towering orc, her grinning face landing on him as she chuckled cruelly. With a sigh he saw that the side of the whip was wrapped in a red on white heart pattern, certainly a product of Zenovia’s… he cleared his throat.

“ORC!” he shouted, trying to rise his voice over the din of the battle, “that whip isn’t yours! Return it and I’ll let you leave here alive!”

The orc woman snorted, rattling her black armor as she hefted the whip over her shoulder, “and who’s going to take it from me pipsqueak? You? Your friends are on the run, look” she gestured, and Vann turned to see to his despair that the rest of the party had all been forced back, the mob pursuing them and leaving him to face the towering green amazon alone.

“Tell you what shrimp,” she laughed, “kiss my boot, and I’ll let you go!”

Vann looked down, realizing she was wearing a pair of heeled leather boots… he blinked, they seemed very enticing… he licked his lips, falling unconsciously to his knees as he thought about it. He realized absently that he was shrinking smaller, and he shook his head, growling angrily as the orc’s strong hand gripped his hair.

“Huh, you didn’t do it,” she mused, “weird, oh well!” She grinned and uncoiled the whip.

Vann, you are the rightful master of both of those artifacts, Zenovia said, now, as much as we would both enjoy the things this orc is planning to do to you, I do need you to get them back.

The whip suddenly burned bright red, and the orc shrieked and dropped it, looking down at Vann in surprise. She yelped in panic again as she fell over, the high heeled boots flying off of her feet and into Vann’s waiting hands.

“What the hell,” she growled, forcing herself back up, “hey, those are mine-“

“You stole them!” Vann hissed, leveling his staff at her. She raised an eyebrow, and he tried to ignore the fact that he was probably the size of a halfling at best now.

“I didn’t steal those,” she insisted, “they were given to me!” She sat back up and drew her sword, “now little mage, I think you’ll find this armor is more than enough to deflect any spells you can muster!”

She screamed and charged at him, and Vann stared her down, chanting under his breath and allowing more and more magical energy to flow into his staff. The runes on the orc’s armor grew red hot, cracks emanating out from them. Vann leapt backward as the orc, now twice his height, swiped at him with the sword. He finished the incantation, and the world went white.

…

Vann groaned, sitting up and looking around. The orc was doing the same across from him, and he couldn’t help but grin as he saw her armor was shattered to pieces, laying in jagged black chunks on the ground around them. The orc was down to cloth brassier on her chest, and a pair of leather trousers below, though Vann noted with some concern that her sword seemed intact.

“My runed plate!” she shouted. “What spell was that?”

Vann just grinned, enjoying the look on the orc’s face as she took in the towering pair of boots behind him, the very same the orc had been able to easily wear mere moments before. A shrinking spell wouldn’t have normally been his go-to, but with the amount of energy needed to overwhelm her armor, he expected to be toy sized by the end of it. He’d simply picked a spell that would even the playing field, if he was going to end up small, so would she.

“Oh gods,” the orc muttered, looking around at the towering blades of grass, “y-you made us tiny!”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” he teased, squaring off against her again.

“I’ll have your head!” she shouted, running at him with a battle cry.

A gloved hand shot down, tree trunk sized fingers curled around Vann, lifting him up and snatching him out of the orc’s path.

“Hey cutie,” Tyra teased, hefting him in her palm with a grin. “The rest of them fled when they saw their commander was gone…” she gazed down, smirking at the doll sized orc at her feet, “but… she’s not gone, is she?”

“Is that the orc!?” Eletha said excitedly, bounding up to them, “oh this is so amazing! Say bye bye greenskin!” Eletha gave a wicked grin as she lifted her boot over the orc, playfully waving farewell.

“WAIT!” Vann shouted, causing Eletha to pause enough that her boot simply pinned the orc, who grunted as the elf forced her into the dirt.

“What?” Eletha asked, “every elf dreams of crushing an orc like the pathetic bug she is!”

“Just out of curiosity,” Enid said, approaching them as her foxlike ears twitched, “are there any races elves don’t have a longstanding feud with?”

“Humans,” Eletha said with a shrug, “most of the time.”

“P-Please!” the orc shouted, pushing feebly against Eletha’s boot.

“It seems rather dishonorable to execute a defeated enemy,” Chadwick said, wiping blood off his sword as he and Rumana approached.

“But orcs do it!” Eletha protested, pointing down at her.

“I must have missed the part where we were holding the orcs up as our moral compass,” Rumana muttered, “then again, they say orcs were elves once…”

“Don’t even start!” Eletha shouted angrily, unconsciously driving her boot lower and causing the orc to wince with pain, “that wizard who came up with that conspiracy theory was-“

“I need to question her!” Vann snapped, “that whip and those heels are Zenovia’s artifacts,” he pointed to the discarded holy items, “she said someone gave them to her, I need to find out who!”

“An interrogation seems ideal,” Chadwick agreed.

“Put me down next to her,” Vann said, nodding to Tyra.

She slowly lowered him down to the ground, and he walked up to Eletha’s boot, where the orc was still pinned. He twirled his staff in a playful fashion, feeling a little smug at his victory.

“Answer my questions,” he said, “and my elven friend won’t squish you.”

“You don’t have the guts!” the orc snarled. Eletha silenced her by pressing down again, causing the orc to wheeze.

“I’m pretty sure she’d love to step on either of us,” Vann said with a smirk, “now, what’s your name?”

“Razita,” the orc spat, “I’m a mercenary contracted to lead these goblins.”

“Contracted by whom exactly?” Chadwick asked, rubbing his chin.

“She calls herself The Mistress,” Razita said, “she gave me those,” she nodded to the boots and the whip, “she’s got a huge army of goblins, she’s hiring on people to lead them, orcs, trolls, humans, whatever. Says she’s going to conquer the whole territory soon; she’s paying in gold too!”

This “Mistress” must have been the one to defile my temple, Zenovia said angrily, Vann, I order you to smite her!”

I think that’s where this quest is ending anyways, he thought, so… I’ll do my best?

“A warlord of some sort?” Rumana asked, looking up at Chadwick.

“Perhaps,” he muttered, “this… this may be a matter for the crown, an army over adventurers.”

Unacceptable! Zenovia almost shouted, Vann, you must find and destroy this woman at once!

Vann sighed, “her army is mostly goblins, right?”

“R-Right,” the orc said, looking at him oddly, “there were only maybe a dozen other mercenaries at most, she’s holed up in a big stone tower another day northwest of here!”

“So if we just take out the Mistress, her army will likely scatter,” Eletha realized, “that sounds like a brilliant plan, let me just pulp this orc and then-“

“Do not kill the orc,” Chadwick said sternly, “Vann, how long will she be small like that?”

“I hit her with a pretty big blast,” he said, kneeling down and glancing over the trapped Razita, “I’d say… maybe a few months?”

“MONTHS!?” the orc bellowed, scrabbling at him feebly from under Eletha’s boot, “I’m going to be small for-“

“Oh no,” Eletha said with relish, “she’s getting aggressive! I’d better stomp her to save Vann!”

“I SURRENDER!” the orc shouted, “I know your humie laws, you’ll get in trouble if you hurt me!”

Eletha sighed, lifting her boot off the orc. Vann watched as the elf’s delicate hand darted down, snatching up the orc. The green skinned woman bellowed angrily as Eletha giggled, peeling the sword out of her hand and casually flicking it away.

“Eletha,” Chadwick said firmly, “I don’t want her hurt…”

“You know you’re way more honorable than most of your lineage,” Eletha muttered. “Your thrice great grandad would already be coming up with a plan to rob The Mistress…”

“Stop bringing up my ancestors!” Chadwick snapped, “I know we’re all just one line of replaceable faces to you, but I’m not them!”

Eletha’s face went red, and she looked like she was about to say something, but she just sighed and turned away. She gripped the orc tightly regarding her a moment, then gave the green woman in her hands a smug smile.

“I’ll just take care of the prisoner then,” she said with a smirk.

“Uhhh…” the Razita gulped, “h-hey humie, could I maybe go with…” her gaze drifted over the party, seeing Enid she smiled, “the fox-girl, she looks nice!”

Enid licked her lips, “oh that sounds fun, she looks yummy! Green like a sourball!”

“Nevermind, the elf will prove an uh, able jailor,” the orc said with a nervous smile.

Tyra bent down to pick up Vann again, and he leapt into her gloved hand with a flourish, causing a few blue sparks to trail behind his staff as he smiled up at his friend. She stood back up, looking at the heels and whip with a frown.

“Hey Vann,” she said suddenly, “if those are Zenovia’s artifacts, they’re yours… right?”

Are they? He thought.

Yes Vann, do what you will with them… though I don’t know if you’ll look good in the heels, Zenovia giggled.

“Tyra, take the whip,” he said, “it’s heavily enchanted, I think you’ll do well with it.”

“Well, it’s no blade,” Tyra said, bending down to pick it up, “but… if it’s got a goddess’s power behind it, I guess I could give it a try.”

Vann took a deep breath, already regretting his next decision, “Eletha,” he said, “would you be willing to wield Zenovia’s holy footwear for me?”

Eletha blinked, “Uh…” she looked down at the heels, then at Vann, she fought a snort, “yeah, okay… they are kind of dirty, when you’re back to full size, could you come to my tent and clean them?”

“I’d love to,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’ll try to magic up some polish-“

“Oh no need,” Eletha giggled, “the gods blessed you with a tongue…” She suddenly regarded the orc in her hand and then gave a smug grin, “scratch that Vann, I just realized, the person who got Zenovia’s boots dirty in the first place should clean them!”

Razita balked, “b-but at this size that could take ages!”

“Oh well,” the elf said with a shrug, “you shouldn’t have stolen from Vann’s esteemed goddess, we elves are a very pious people you know!”

Vann, I just want to say I love this elf you’ve found yourself with, Zenovia said. I approve of your decision to designate her as the bearer of my holy heeled boots! Vann felt a swell of magic suddenly, and he smiled as he realized she wasn’t even shrinking him further in exchange for it.

Eletha gasped in surprise as her own leather boots seemed to spark and disappear in a burst of fire and smoke, leaving her standing on the grass in her socks. The shining black leather boots with the tall heel flew at her, and the elf flailed with a squeal of surprise, barely gripping the shrunken orc as she was levitated off the ground. Zenovia’s boots seemed to slip themselves on her, magically adjusting and perfectly tailoring themselves to her as she drifted back to the ground.

“Whoa,” Eletha giggled, briefly swaying back and forth. She looked around at the group, a smug smile on her face as she enjoyed the extra height the heels afforded her, “it’s so weird,” she said in awe, “they’re perfectly balanced… they’re heels, but it feels like I’m barefoot on a flat plain!” she skipped back and forth briefly, easily landing on the raised shoes.

“Yeah, they’re weird like that,” the orc shouted, “they’re like extensions of your own feet!”

Eletha watched in awe as the boots cycled in color as she thought of different shades, “this is great!” she giggled. She looked up at her party, then smirked, “everyone, give them a kiss!”

“You’ve got to be out of your mind!” Rumana shouted, even as she knelt down. Her eyes went wide as she puckered her lips and placed a kiss on the elf’s boots.

“W-What is this!?” Chadwick grunted, forced to his knees as he repeated the dwarf’s action.

“You know I’m going to get you for this, right?” Tyra laughed as she placed her lips on the black leather. She brought Vann’s shrunken form around, and he placed a kiss on the massive boots as well.

“ELVEN BITCH!” Rumana shouted as she kissed the toe of the boots again.

“Nope,” Enid giggled, waving dismissively, easily repelling the enchantment.

“The boots imbue a fetish in anyone that sees them,” Vann explained, pulling away and wiping his lips. “It’s a minor form of mind control, it’s detailed in Commands and Rituals of Zenovia”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” Eletha giggled, eyeing the panicking orc in her grip.

…

“So, the woman behind the goblins also looted your goddess’s temple,” Tyra mused, eying a gold coin with a heart and whip sigil stamped in the center. They’d found it on one of their dead enemies, further proof of the source of gold and equipment fueling the ongoing raids.

Vann was still only a few inches tall, playfully being squeezed between Tyra’s toes as she lounged, barefoot, in the tent. Her feet were rank and sweaty from a day marching through the prairie, and he was quickly feeling a thin layer of grime coat him as she playfully batted his trapped body with her other foot.

“Yes, I’ll be getting revenge,” he grimaced, squeezed flat between Tyra’s soles as she continued to toy with him.

“Thanks for the whip by the way,” Tyra said, eyeing it, “not sure how it will hold up against a blade, but… it should be fun.”

“The boots are more for a spellcaster,” he grunted as the enormous caramel skinned foot pinned him against the bedroll, “I-I thought the weapon suited you more.” He gasped as her slick foot began to slowly grind against him, stimulating him and quickly making him hard as her toes seemed to curl over his shoulders, holding him in place like a firm lover.

“Come on Vann,” Tyra said with a playful smile, “my foot is a lady, give her a kiss when you make love.”

He reached up and kissed her toe, her stale sweat sticking to his face and matting his bangs. She continued to slowly scrunch her foot over him, grinding it back and forth as she casually flipped through Tales of Zenovia. Vann’s entire world was being shaken by the most casual movement her foot, if not for the teasing smirk she shot him he could almost believe she didn’t know what she was doing. Meanwhile she just continued reading, letting him writhe and squirm futilely as her foot ravaged him.

“Clothes off,” she said, not even looking up from the book. Vann felt the fabric of his uniform slide over his skin as the enchanted garment obeyed, flying off of him and leaving him naked before Tyra’s foot. Her toes seemed to squeeze around him tighter, as though relishing the skin-to-skin contact as his hips began to involuntarily buck against her sole.

“Oh gods,” he moaned, pressing upwards with all of his might and not moving the massive foot even an inch.

“Come on Vann, let your little pecker shoot its tiny little load,” she teased.

“I-It’s not that small, is it?” he gasped, managing to find a moment of clarity to ask a question that had been burning him for years.

Tyra just sighed, rolling her eyes and shutting the book, “I say this as your friend Vann, yes you’ve got a dagger rather than a broadsword beneath the belt, but it’s done the job for me every time I’ve taken it for a ride.” She smirked, enjoying the look on his face as his eyes rolled back, the casual movement of her foot driving him ever closer to orgasm. “If you think about it, it hardly matters when you’re that size anyway… now come on, squirt for my foot.”

He groaned as he obeyed, bucking his hips against the bottom of her foot as he came, spraying feebly against the overwhelming wall of flesh that had so easily dominated his body and his senses. Tyra went back to the book, opening it again and casually slowing the speed which she rocked her foot against him, coaxing him down from his orgasm and leaving him a panting mess, pinned beneath her and covered in a mix of her sweat and his own cum.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, “got enough magic yet?”

“I-I could probably use a little more,” he admitted hesitantly.

“Well, it would be irresponsible for me to let you go into a potential fight tomorrow without enough…” Tyra said with a smug grin. Her foot lifted off him, and he felt her powerful fingers wrap around him and pick him up, his tired limbs trailing like a ragdoll’s.

“Be gentle,” he begged with a playful smile.

“No,” Tyra giggled, bringing him up to her smiling face as she thought of all the things she could do to him before bed.