Inside Job

By VivettaVenray

(WARNING: Contains vore [soft, soul], cruelty, monster-traits, and gore among other things)

(NOTE: The general idea for this story was thought up quite some time ago. I actually promised myself I'd write this before I ever considered doing a direct sequel to any of my other stories. Now that this story is done, that door is open. Although whether or not I plan or write other sequels to my stories is another matter.

This story takes place in the same world some as, and some time after the events of, "Mary Sueddon's Campaign". If you enjoyed "Mary Sueddon's Campaign" then, without spoiling too much, you might like this story as well. It's not required to read that story before this one, but I do encourage it.)

--------------

Chapter 1: The Party

Rune-light and one magic luminescent orb were the only source of light for the four adventurers as they entered the cave. Though their silhouettes all differed, each had on a backpack or satchel at least as they walked through the middle of the mountain.

“This is much to big to be a cave.”, spoke a light-skinned woman with mangy brown hair.

The human was one of the four, and her hair wasn’t the only wild looking part about her. The freckled woman had no shoes, only legwraps of dried leaves and cloth. Uncarefully made cuts of bark adorned her legs as shin guards and her outer arms for protection there too. She also had bark on her shoulders as pads, tied with more cloth.

Aside from that, the druid had barely anything on. Her top was short with a thin cloth base decorated with leaves. Her skirt was similarly hand-made, albeit colored green by some natural dye no doubt.

She was second in the marching order. At the front was a tall, lithe, elf clad in black leather. Her hand was held out as she led the way, and over her palm floated a circular orb of purple light.

The white-haired elf turned around to answer first, though kept on the move. The druid locked her green eyes with the dark elf’s crimson ones, but only for a second. The elf faced forward immediately after, doing the bare minimum to acknowledge her companion before refocusing on the path ahead.

“What would you call it then, Thistle?”, said the elf.

“A hollowed out mountain. A hollow mountain, maybe.”

The elf chuckled.

“Seems rather simple doesn’t it?”

“It’s the first thing I thought up.”, answered Thistle.

“Is that the druid way of naming things?”, spoke the elf.

“Well, Arafiel, it’s certainly natural.”

The druid chuckled and, though she couldn’t see it from behind, the dark elf woman smirked. Thistle would have liked to see it if she knew. Despite her differences with the drow, something about seeing Arafiel smile made the druid’s heart flutter.

Arafiel was the de-facto leader of the group. She was a daring rogue, and naturally gifted at magic to boot. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the scholarly type so no wizardry for her, nor was she so gifted as to be an outright sorceress. Instead, she mastered a few cantrips and worked them into her bag of tricks and dagger-work.

Not that it mattered. By far the drow’s greatest weapon was her stunning charisma, with equally stunning looks to back it up. Her ashy dark countenance could smile, bat her red eyes, and she’d get past guards in a flash without a fight. Her words and wiles had opened far more doors than her lock-picks had for sure.

A few more steps in and the lights from the runes started getting brighter. Thistle bumped into Arafiel, who had stopped walking.

“Watch it.”

“Well why’d you stop Araffy?”

“I told you not to call me that, you did well with it just a moment ago. Also, I didn’t stop first. Look.”

The elf pointed behind Thistle. The druid’s fluffed out scraggly locks brushed into the dark elf with the turn. About 20 steps back was a large muscular gray-skinned man ooo-ing and awe-ing at something.

“What’s the hold-up Grome?”, spoke Arafiel. “The dwarven city’s supposed to be very pretty, but if you stop to stare at every glowing rune we won’t finish the job by tomorrow’s end.”

“It’s not a rune Arafeel”, he said, mispronouncing the elf’s name on accident as he often did. “It’s a really cool rock.”

“A rock?” Arafiel introduced her face to her palm. A squeaky voice piped up behind Grome.

“To be fair, the rock being here *is* quite impressive.”, spoke the gnome. He came into view as he scrambled higher up Grome’s shoulders. His long white beard draped over the orc’s chest, which only had some ridiculous looking plated-bra on that he refused to take off (“for protection!”, the orc would say.)

The gnome--who was traveling on the barbarian’s back as per-habit--had a periwinkle hat atop his head with some brown robes and slipper-shoes. It made for a most clashing and unfashionable contrast in attire. He was short too, even for a gnome, and stood just over 2ft tall.

“What’s so special about it?”, spoke Thistle.

“Nothing.”, said Laddleplug.

“But you just-”

“The rock isn’t special, but the fact that it’s here is. Up till now the path’s been entirely smooth, with a bit of rock dust at most!”

He was right. The party had walked for well over a mile along smooth stone ground. It wasn’t paved in any natural sense, but by something very, very big.

“The amount of weight the Chimera Queen must be at her size... I’m surprised to find a single rock in here.”

“How big did you say she was again Laddleplug.”, asked Thistle.

“2 miles.”, he said.

“Jeez.”

“Don’t worry.”, said the orc. “Grome’s big too.”

“You’re only about 7 feet max Grome.”, said Arafiel, chiming in now. “That’s orders of magnitude smaller. Also, let’s stay on the move please, like I said...”

Arafiel got to walking and the others eventually followed. Brass and dark-stone buildings speckled the vast and far natural walls of the gigantic cave. The vast majority were at least half broken, but the magic runes etched into the hewn stones functioned well enough to keep the wide cave lit despite it.

Those were just the buildings higher up. Far to the side of the smooth stone trail were plenty of piles of debris. Barely a rune still functioned there, but the ones that did still shined bright.

“Just piles and piles of rubble.”, spoke Thistle.

“Yes, it’s said Veezla destroyed this once great city all by herself.”, spoke the gnome. He snapped his fingers and conjured up his own orb of light, then fished a piece of parchment from his satchel and started sketching down notes on the runes and architecture.

“So, why’d the dwarves settle here anyways?”, asked the druid. The stone felt a bit colder under her naked feet the deeper the four walked.

“They didn’t know a titaness was here, there’s no other explanation.”

“But how could they not notice?”

“Well, they probably thought themselves lucky to find such a nice mountain to build in. They went just as dark as they liked, built, then built deeper as they expanded. It’s said the Mother of Monsters can sleep long periods at a time, hundreds of years. They probably scouted too deep once, woke her up by mistake.”

The four passed a massive pile of rubble surrounding a single crumbling little stone home. All around it was dust sans that one home. Thistle dipped her foot into some of the stone-dust at the edge of the area and brushed it away. There was depth below the dust, which she felt after nearly falling forward. She hadn’t expected non-solidly under sole.

“This is like a crater!”, said the druid.

The gnome tilted his head and poked Grome’s back. “Move backwards friend!”

The orc did so and the wizard tilted his head, then scribbled things down.

“Yes yes, I think that’s a hand print. Hard to tell though, but she must’ve flattened them all with just a plop of her palm.

“How can you tell that?”

“You can’t see it from where you are, but there’s a bit of a curve to the dust outline. Also, I think that one building standing just got lucky. It was small enough to not get too unstable, and probably was in the space between her ring and pinky--no, ring and middle finger. Fascinating.”

He scribbled some more stuff down and the four got to moving. Thistle was a bit more harrowed. As they reached the edge of the city, back to where the cave grew darker, she swallowed and spoke once more.

“Arafiel.”, said Thistle.

“Yes?”, said Arafiel.

“Aren’t you, worried?”

“Not at all. I’m excited.”

“You are sure she has the Dragon Orb?”

“I’m positive or, well, the city of Glainberg had it, and she’s the one who ate that place weeks ago.”

“Now that’s something I can’t believe, or abide.”, spoke Laddleplug. “With the threat of war against that mad, magical queen, the last thing we needed was a random titan attack in Igrisos.”

“Yes, it’s tragic, but think of the opportunity.”, said the dark elf.

“Since everyone’s worried about Queen Mary, the demand for any sort of magical artifact has skyrocketed. Every single city-state wants the power of dragons in case that brat of a sorceress shows up. We go in, get the orb, get out, then put them all in a bidding war. We’ll make enough platinum pieces to live like royalty for the rest of our lives.”

Grome chuckled at the thought, pausing his black-booted walk to clap for a moment. “I’m gonna buy me a uhhhhh lots of... honey bread. Huh huh.”

The other three blinked at their dimwitted companion, smiling in various stages of politeness or amusement. With that dopey boob-armor on and gray-cloth shorts, the dumb orc looked far more endearing than orcs from the wild tribes.

“Well, Grome, you’ll be able to buy all the bread and mead you want once we’re through with this job.”, said Arafiel.

They moved deeper, deep enough that they needed some extra lights. Laddleplug put away his scroll to conjure a glowing orb of light in each hand--relying on Grome’s one grasp to hold him steady on that shoulder. Arafiel just made the magical light-orb of her own bigger.

Once again, Thistle spoke up.

“Do you think it’ll work, Laddleplug?”, said the druid. “The barrier over Igrisos?”

The gnome’s mouth opened, but for once he paused before speaking.

“Well, it’s been quite some time since I was expelled from the magical academies. The College are the ones spear-heading the shield, so I can’t ask it’s details, but it’s kept her out for months now.”

“Do you believe what they say about her? That she could really be that big? Bigger than Veezla?”

“I only know what everyone else does, Thistle. The magical energies coming from Eldbann are immense. If all that power is wielded by one person, she’s definitely worth the effort keeping out.”

“Stop!”, said Arafiel. She held out her arms. “No more chatter, look ahead, more light.”

They could see now, the cave had some deep growing fungus on the smooth walls. It glowed bright as the moon. There was no more need for the magical lights of their own, so the drow and gnome snuffed their own light orbs out.

“We must be getting close. Let’s keep our voices low and stay moving.”

The party did so, and in less than a few more thousand feet they saw her: or rather, her looming light-purple face.

“Veezla”, said Laddleplug with a hint of awe in his voice.

Chapter 2: The History

Within the year, two very big events happened within Igrisos.

The first thing had to do with one magically empowered woman.

Six months before the four adventurers entered Veezla’s lair, a trading vessel arrived from the eastern continent, Eldbann, carrying not goods, but people. The ship docked at the trade city-state of Jeley and the occupants pleaded for refuge.

They told a story of how a powerful pink-haired sorceress named Mary Sueddon had declared herself “Queen of All”. This was known in Igrisos, but dismissed as Eldbann politics and not anything of much concern. Countless eccentric nobles had dappled history with their hijinks at that point, so Mary’s claims were nothing new.

However, the peasants onboard also said how the young sorceress stole the souls of those she met, and possessed enough magical power to enlarge herself to titan-dwarfing scales.

The peasants explained to city officials how Mary had been sieging the lands of Eldbann with an army, but the army rebelled. They said they had seen her massively enlarged self on the horizon declaring her intent to conquer the entire world of Leoria and “all there is”. Some said they had seen her destroy the entire ancient elven city of Fyaserin under her feet after sucking its magics dry.

Naturally, the story wasn’t believed at all. As part of their tale, the peasants admitted to convincing the ship’s sympathetic captain to ditch cargo so they could fit in the hold. So, Jeley officials arrested the captain, crew, and refugees on charges of goods destruction and lying to officials.

Yet, in the coming weeks, magical scholars and practitioners all over Igrisos reported large amounts of magical energies emanating from Eldbann. The fabric of magic itself within the material realm carried echoes of misuse originating from one very powerful source.

On top of that, ships flooded in with refugees to the point that trade with Eldbann became non-existent. Every ship spotted was assumed to be carrying people escaping the eastern and most populous continent.

The people onboard not only collaborated the stories first told at Jeley, but provided more info. Mary Sueddon magically enlarged herself and was single-handedly attacking every city in her kingdom. Even those loyal to her rule were crushed so their souls could be hers. Every town meant a horrible end at her hands or from of her vain gold and giant magical constructs.

The city-states of Igrisos grew concerned enough to heed the advice of magical scholars. Almost every wizard and sorcerer in the land agreed to take turns focusing their powers to create and maintain a barrier of force around Igrisos. The Continental Barrier, as it was called, functioned as both a literal barrier of glimmering force as well as an anti-magic barrier. The borders of Igrisos were closed, with no ships sailing in or out. No teleportation either, or even scrying.

The timing was impeccable too, as the very next day the barrier was under attack by powerful divination magic. It was assumed Queen Mary was trying to gain an idea of the continent before attacking it, but the barrier held back her attempts at scrying, and the frustrated attempts at teleportation and barrier-disintegration magic that followed.

Days went by and the barrier was under constant magical attacks originating from one source in Eldbann. The casters holding the barrier up were exhausted. After every shift, half of them would collapse from the focus required. But, they held fast and within a few more days the severe attacks stopped. Only the occasional poke-like scrying attempts tingled the barrier, and they were farther apart as time went on.

Since the four adventurers entered Veezla’s cave, it had been over a month since the last tickle against the barrier. It would seem Mary Sueddon had grown bored and given up.

But, the Continental Barrier was held all the same, as a sorceress with such divine-like levels of magical power couldn’t be allowed into their lands at any cost.

--==--==--==--

The second major event within those past 6 months had to do with a semi-humanoid titaness named Veezla. Veezla was one of the titans, which were the primordial, gigantic, and immortal beings created by the gods. Originally created to wander the material realm for divine amusement, there was a time where these gargantuan entities battled one another in contests that helped carve the lands mortals walk on. Eventually the god-spurred conflicts relaxed, and the titans relaxed alongside the end of those giant battles.

Veezla was often called the Chimera Queen for her amalgam of animal and monster traits, though she didn’t treat the much smaller chimera creatures with any special favor. Unlike most Chimera, she also possessed the lower body of a snake, and thus would be more similar to naga if not for her green dragon-like wings and goat-like horns. The purple skinned and scaled being also had other features like fangs and sharp, hard talon-like claws.

Others dubbed Veezla the “Mother of Monsters”, but this wasn’t accurate as she had never sired any spawn--far as mortals knew--within her millennia of existence. In fact, she didn’t seem to treat any creatures she encountered with any particular affection or detestment. She was just as likely to ignore any settlement of old she came across as she was to attack and devour it.

Thankfully, titans were inactive, languid beings. They sleep for hundreds, if not thousands of years at a time typically. Veezla was known to only have destroyed one relatively modern city, several hundreds of years ago, when a dwarven city inadvertently settled in her mountain lair and woke her up.

Indeed, Veezla was not an exception to the rule of “titans are lazy and dormant most of the time.” At least, not until recently.

A few weeks before the four adventurers arrive to her lair, Veezla awoke. She slithered out of her lair and all the way towards the small city-state of Glainberg. Everything between her and that destination was crushed beneath the underbelly of a powerful tail about half-a-mile wide.

There were no surviving denizens of Glainberg at the time, but merchants en-route to the city witnessed the titaness lean down and devour the city, mouthful by mouthful, swallowed whole, to it was all gobbled up. Then, with more quaking of earth, she slithered back to her lair to sleep.

It was naturally a bit of a disaster, and it came at a time where the economies of Igrisos were already hurt by not having intercontinental trade thanks to the barrier. Yet, most of all, it was confusing.

Why would a titaness awaken for such a short time, eat just one city, then go back to rest?

Glainberg wasn’t even the closest city to her lair, either, it was as if she had deliberately targeted it. As far as the city-states of Igrisos went, Glainberg was among the smaller and unimportant ones. In fact, it was really only notable for holding a few rare artifacts within its borders. In particular, the Dragon Orb.

It was for this very orb that four adventurers sought to brave the lair of the titaness Veezla, as anything that could potentially fight off Mary Sueddon was worth a fortune these days.

Chapter 3: The Job

Veezla was big.

It was one thing to know that someone was miles tall, but it was another to actually be up close to such a being. Even standing hundreds of feet away in that fungus-lit cave, they could mostly make out just her face. It loomed larger than most any building in even the grandest city-state. From her nostrils and gently-opened lips, hot breath whisked by them.

Even such gentle, sleeping breaths proved enough to ruffle their clothes. All of the party stared in awe at it for a bit, till Grome spoke up.

“Pretty, huhuh.”

The other three turned to the orc, but didn’t exactly disagree. Veezla’s face didn’t seem to have a single blemish or slight upon it, even at such an immense scale where every minor imperfection would be plain to see.

Her skin was a light shade of purple, like lilacs. She was sleeping, eyes shut, with her head resting on one arm and her hair cascading over her shoulders and said-arm to rest at the cave floor. Each strand of that silver-white hair was thick as a rope to the adventurers.

Veezla looked young, the face one of a young adult and not some gigantic being thousands of years old. It was easy to remember she was a monster though. One needed only to look at the top of her head, where two dark-gray horns jutted out. Each one was like a small hill. Furthermore, one could see her feminine fingers topped with curved, claw-like black nails.

Green dragon-like wings adorned her back, and Laddleplug scribbled down a note to think about how exactly those could suffice for flight.

At her waist was a smattering of dark-purple scales, which transitioned to a fully scaled snake-like tail for her lower body. It was by far the most monstrous feature of the titaness, and it was so long that it was impossible for the four to see that gigantic limb in ts entirety. Still, they could barely make out that the underbelly of the tail was a shade of ivory white.

“Wow...” spoke Thistle. “Her skin isn’t too far off from your own, Araffy.”

The dark elf scoffed. “It’s Arafiel, and hers is far lighter and purpler. I hope you’re not saying I’m a monster.”

“Oh no I’d never.”, said Thistle. “But, you have to admit the hair’s the same. She’s got pointed ears too.”

Arafiel ran her fingers through her own white locks. Hers were a tad duller, as she wasn’t a titaness supposedly made by the gods to perfection. Hers was also cut shorter, as long hair was a liability in the rogue’s eyes.

“Fair enough.”, said Arafiel. “But none of this matters. On with the plan. I don’t think the grappling hooks will be necessary now, we can simply climb up using her hair.”

“Duhhh won’t that wake her?”, said Grome.

“Oh wow, a good question for once.”, spoke Thistle.

“I don’t think so.”, spoke Laddleplug. “That dwarven city lived hundreds of years without waking her, a slight tug on those strands will go unnoticed.”

“Exactly.”, said Arafiel. “Now, time to go over the plan.”

She cleared her throat. She spoke while they moved towards where a lot of those hair strands meant the floor.

“Laddleplug will cast his anti-acid spell on us, which should protect us from her digestive system. It only lasts 8 hours though, so we need to move fast in there without dallying. We’ll climb her up hair and enter her mouth and work our way down her throat, through her stomach, and to that tail stomach she’s supposed to have. Once there, we nab the orb from the city ruins, then Laddleplug teleports us back on the outside.”

“Ah, you are forgetting something.”, said the gnome.

Arafiel sighed.

“Of course, we will take any people still surviving inside with us to rescue them, but I really doubt anyone could be alive. It’s been weeks, how slow could her digestive system really be?”

“Hold on.”, said Thistle. “Why can’t we just teleport inside her?”

Laddleplug hopped off Grome’s back to the floor. Her pulled some chalk out of his satchel and started etching a fancy looking pattern into the stone floor. He spoke.

“That’s because teleportation isn’t precise without a circle to teleport to. You need precise configurations of sigils. Otherwise, there are margins of error. We can’t see inside her from here, so if we tried to teleport inside her tail-stomach, we could very easily misfire and end up somewhere between her tail muscles instead. An idle movement from the titaness there would crush us, and whatever cavity we could end up in might be too small for me to make the movements of the spell. We’d be trapped or dead in most cases; it’d be too risky.”

“Hmm I see.”

Everyone waited for Laddleplug to finish the runic circle he was drawing.

“There, now once we’re inside, we can teleport to this very spot with the orb and any survivors. Then, we just walk on out.”

“Wait ok, now hold on, why didn’t we draw the circle outside the mountain so we don’t have to walk all the way back out.”, said Thistle.

Laddleplug and Arafiel each raised a hand to answer, looked at each other and blinked a few times.

“We... probably should have.”, said Laddleplug.

“But it shouldn’t matter, she won’t wake up and it won’t be an issue. Now c’mon, let’s climb.”, said Arafiel.

“Climb, ha!”, scoffed Thistle. “I’ll be taking a faster route. I’ll meet you on the titan’s tongue. Come on now Laddleplug, let’s go.”

“What?”, spoke the gnome.

Thistle clapped her hands together and a puff of grass shook from her form. Brown feathers sprouted from her skin and, in less than a second, her and her belongings shifted into the form of a large owl, easily bigger than a human. She looked to the gnome and made an expression as similar to a smile as any giant owl could.

She hopped his way.

“No no, I’m fine I can climb really I-”

Thistle placed a bird foot on the gnome’s back and curled her talons. She flapped her broad wings and flew off and up towards Veezla’s mouth.

Being so close to the titaness was quite the thrill if the gnome wizard’s screaming was anything to go by. An exhale from those ginormous purple-pinkish lips nearly blew Thistle off course, but in her giant owl form, she possessed enough strength to flap right through the gale and enter the titaness’s maw.

Meanwhile, Arafiel grumbled and got to climbing, with Grome right behind her. The stands were easy enough to grab and clamber on, though they were far smoother than a hempen rope their size. Grome took awhile to get a hang of it, near falling once, but pretty soon he was racing Arafiel up the locks.

The barbarian took the lead and reached the face of Veezla first.

“Careful!”, said the drow. “Let me go first big guy observe.”

Arafiel took hold of one of the strands and started swinging on it. Faster and faster she swung, careful not to fall. Veezla was so big that the fall from that strand would be over 200ft, even with her head tilted on her side and close to the ground.

The drow heard some enthusiastic and baritone “wheeee!”s from behind and noticed Grome had already gotten the idea.

She shook her head, defeated. “I didn’t say go yet Grome!”, she hollered. Then, when the time was right, she swing the hair strand close to those lips and let go. She flew through the little opening in the mouth to plop on the tongue.

Grome squished down on the crimson muscle shortly after, splattering some saliva on her, Thistle, and Laddleplug. The druid had since transformed back into her normal self.

Arafiel brushed some spit off herself, while Thistle just sort of shook herself dry like a dog. Laddleplug seemed too fascinated by the maw to even notice.

All of them looked to the back of the throat. It was dark, so Arafiel conjured her light orb again and let it hover by her shoulder. It was bright enough to illuminate the whole maw, albeit dimly. A hard palate hung over head, with strands of saliva dangling like vines and plopping around the party. Perfectly white teeth loomed like hills, with the front ones sharp as any animal’s fangs. The tongue under them didn’t stir, thankfully, but its bumpy surface squished beneath their steps.

The group made their way a tad closer to the throat, where a large uvula loomed ominously.

“This is what a mouth looks like up close eh? Ok, let’s head down.”, said Thistle.

“Wait!”, said Arafiel. “We’re forgetting something. Laddleplug.”

“Hmm?”, said the gnome. He was busy scribbling notes and drawings onto parchment again, stopping only to make sure not to get the scroll wet with spittle.

“The anti-acid coating, we should've done it before climbing. Do it now so we don’t digest.”

“Ah yes! Sorry I forgot myself. Let’s see.”

The gnome pulled a tome out of his satchel and hurriedly flipped through the pages.

“Where is it, where is it.”

“Say, is saliva, uhh, acidic Arafeel.”, said Grome.

“No, or, hmm, is it? That’s a good point. What’s taking so long.”, said Arafiel.

“I’m working I just-”

A bit of saliva landed hundreds of feet away on the side of the titaness’s tongue. A bit of spit splattered off from the impact to spritz the party. In particular, it wet the page of the spell book Laddleplug was looking at, making it near illegible. He gasped.

“Is there a problem?” asked an impatient Arafiel. She tapped her black boots against the tongue.

“Oh no, the page just got wet, but I remember the spell well enough. Alright, everyone huddle up.”

Laddleplug squinted at the page one more time. Then, he dried the book on his robe best he could, slammed it shut, and put it back in his satchel. He waved her short arms in wild gesticulations, and spoke magic words that made his white beard flutter. A flash of yellow light covered the four, glimmered on their skin a bit, before fading away.

“There we go. Should last 8 hours, even should I die.”, spoke Laddleplug.

“Well, that won’t happen on my watch.”, spoke Arafiel.

“Yeah!” shouted Grome in agreement.

“Alright, great. Now, let’s get swallowed yeah!”, said Thistle.

The four of them moved to the back of the tongue. It was another journey of several hundred feet, but in time they stood at the very back of it and gazed down at a pitch dark gullet.

“This is it, who’s brave enough to jump fir-”, spoke Thistle, but she was interrupted by a loud “Wheeeee!” from Grome who just jumped right down. That triggered some sort of swallowing reflex, as the tongue tilted and all four of them fell down right after him, far, far less prepared.

Chapter 4: The Descent

The party quickly learned an important thing about throats in general, and this one in particular: they could squeeze real tight despite how big they were. The four of them weren’t able to just walk sideways through the esophagus like they planned.

Even as Veezla laid down in slumber, her throat still worked. Peristalsis functioned perfectly fine, which meant a formidable and looming well of self-squeezing throat-flesh barreled down at the party. Try as they might, they had no chance of outrunning it. The slimy throat flesh came behind them and pushed them right through the fleshy ringed gate to Veezla’s stomach.

Well, one of her stomachs, at least.

The party fell many dozens of feet down the slimy stomach wall before they tumbled off. All of them screamed till Laddleplug finally managed to get his slow fall incantation out. At that point, they hovered more gently towards the churning, undulating floor. A powerful heartbeat thumped in the distance.

“Yuck, bleck.”, said Thistle. She started shaking herself of the slime, but Arafiel waggled her finger and cleaned everyone off with a cantrip. Then she flexed her wrist and her hovering orb of now-white light grew bigger and glowed brighter. They could see about half the stomach this way.

“Big tummy huhuh”, said Grome.

“Yes, this place is huge.”, said Thistle.

“It’s only her human gut as well. The city she ate should be in the stomach within her tail.”, said Laddleplug. “Imagine how much she’d have to eat in the olden days, where titans were pretty much the only intelligent beings to walk the surface of Leoria. Err, well slither upon it in Veezla’s case.”

“I think she eats enough as is. Take a look”, spoke Arafiel.

With the light the party had, they could make out numerous skeletons littering the living fleshy cavern. All sorts of creatures, based on the bones. One was a massive, tusked being: a mammoth no doubt. Another had mantis like arms. There was an entire pile of humanoid looking bones in one corner: short and squat by the looks of them. Goblins perhaps.

While the others took in the sights of past meals, Arafiel walked up to one skeleton in particular. She recognized the wing bones on it, and the claw bones and sharp teeth set in an elongated, slime-slick skull.

“Gang, check it out, it’s a dragon skeleton. This one looks pretty big, probably a very aged adult dragon.”, said Arafiel.

The drow took a few steps closer.

“Careful!”, shouted Laddleplug.

“Relax it’s dead, and if these bones are still hard a few might be worth a small fortune to an alchemist-”

Veezla’s stomach had made plenty of noises so far. Gurgles, squelches. The sound of digestive fluids dripping from the walls and pooling in corners of the gut abounded. Her heartbeat thoomed around them.

But, at that moment, the stomach *roared*.

The entire organ churned, causing the walls and floor to shift all around the party. All of them fell over, but Arafiel let out a sharp screeched from the movement. The other members of the party rushed forward to see her impaled just below her shoulder on a sharp rib-bone of the dragon skeleton.

“Fuck.”, she said.

“Oh dear, that’s bad.”, said Laddleplug. “Get her out of there Grome.”

The orc rushed forward and pulled Arafiel’s body off the rib-bone. She gritted her teeth all the while. Once free from the impalement, the wound still oozed blood.

“Dragon bone’s are magic. That’ll be a tough wound to fix. I don’t think I can.” spoke Thistle, who was the only one to know any sort of healing magic.

“Relax.”, grunted Arafiel. “I have something for it.”

The dark elf stepped away from the bones, then fished something out of her backpack. A glass bottle, topped with a perforated cork. In it hovered a naked pixie, blonde in hair with shimmering iridescent glows about her. Her insect wings beat incessantly to keep her aloft.

“Oh, is the pretty fairy gonna heal ya?”, said Grome.

Arafiel studied the tiny, two-inch fae being. She reached for the cork and started prying it off.

“Yes, but not in the way you think.”

The cork came off with a pop, and before the fairy could fly away, Arafiel put the bottle’s top to her mouth, tilted it back, and sucked the fairy into her gob.

“Hey what are you doing?”, said Thistle. Laddleplug was a bit too shocked to speak, having been confused how Arafiel got a fairy in the first place.

Arafiel briefly tasted the fey-being as she worked up the courage to swallow. The pixie floundered in the drow’s spit, beat at her tongue, but the saliva sogged her wings from working. She stopped fluttering in the mouth and before she knew it she was swallowed.

“Hey! That’s not good!” shouted an indignant Grome.

Arafiel sighed. Pounded her throat to help the fairy go down, then punched her tummy region a few times to get the pixie to settle.

“Relax.”, she said. She smirked as she felt the pixie magic start to work once her digestion started kicking in. The wound on her shoulder stopped hurting, and gradually began to heal before the party's very eyes.

“That pixie tried stealing our supplies a night ago. She’s a thief, and probably wouldn’t heal me even if she could.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you caught a pixie?”, said Laddleplug.

“Cause then the druid probably would’ve wanted to her free, or you would’ve, or Grome would’ve thought her pretty and opened the bottle without thinking about it. Then she could’ve polymorphed us into pigs, or shrunk us down to the size of toads or something.”

Faint screams echoed from the drow’s abdomen through that thin black leather. Within the drow’s tummy, she pattered and fluttered and flailed in vain. The fairy was quick to learn digestion was not an easy way to die.

“Eating a fairy is one of the most effective cure-alls. I only had the one though, so I’ll try not to get injured again, and I hope you all do the same. Now c’mon, let’s not stay in here for long.”

She started walking towards the other end of the stomach, and the others reluctantly followed. Along the way, the party noticed their skin begin to itch.

“Is this anti-acid coating of yours wearing off Laddleplug? My skin’s getting red like a berry.”, said Thistle as she scratched at her arm.

“I, hmm, maybe Veezla’s acid is too strong, or we might still get irritation even if we don’t melt.”, spoke Laddleplug.

One of the bone piles to their right collapsed as the base of it pooled to ivory sludge.

“Bleck, melt like those skeletons huh?”, said Grome.

Veezla was big, as was her stomach, but they soon reached another sphincter that could lead to the next destination.

“Alright.”, said Arafiel. “We just need to get this open.”

Grome rushed the ring of tight flesh and tried to pry it open with his strength. It was a hopeless endeavor. Buildings could fit through the organic gateway given how big it was, but only when the titaness’s body willed it. Or at least, that’s what it seemed at first.

“Don’t worry Grome, I got this.”.

Laddleplug shuffled forward and spread his arms wide. The wizard cast another spell.

“Open sesame!”

His voice boomed and the flesh squelched. As though naturally, the sphincter slirked opened for them to pass.

“Good work.”, said Arafiel. She was the one to head in first this time.

The party traversed another esophagus-like tube. Pretty quick into their moment and Veezla’s body sensed them again, pushing them along.

Thistle, not wanting to be squeezed on all angles, turned into a giant anaconda to have a bit more freedom of movement. This ended up being very important, as the party was rapidly approaching a junction. They could see in the light of Arafiel’s orb that there was a split in the path, off to the right. Another fleshy tunnel forked off this one.

“What the Leoria is that?”, said Arafiel.

“I’m not sure, maybe there’s another digestive organ, some intestines, for when her meals are too small to be worth sending to the tail-gut.”

“We don’t want to end up there I take it?”

“Oh no, an intestine could be far more dangerous. We don’t know the kind of fluids that could be produced there. Whatever bile it is might eat through my coating.”

“Well, how do we know that extra path doesn’t lead to the tail gut?”, said Arafiel, her tone getting a tad more upset at the prospect of melting in some titaness’s bile.

“We don’t, but from the way the tube is squeezing us, her body wants to take us on that path, and we’re rather small. I think we need to keep going straight.”

“How, I can’t even move my limbs squeezed like this I-, Thistle, wrap us up in your snake-self and steer us the right way.”, said Arafiel.

Thistle hissed in affirmation. She coiled her tail around the gang and veered left with all her might. Veezla’s body desperately wanted the party to take that detour, but the shapeshifted druid was strong enough, and the party overall small enough, that she managed to keep them on course and straight.

“Wew.”, said Laddleplug.

“Yeah, thanks.”, said Arafiel. Grome chuckled in gratitude himself.

The party had a disorienting, slimy, but otherwise uneventful journey towards the tail gut. They reached another fleshy gate, and this one was kind enough to part on its own for them.

The four adventurers squelched on through. They immediately started slipping down the similarly slimy walls of the tail gut. Another slow fall spelled stopped them from sliding down too fast.

Arafiel had lost track of her light-orb during the journey. She re-summoned it and made it bright as she could before hovering it far above her head for a moment. To her surprise, once again, she didn’t need it.

Everyone’s jaw dropped. Glainberg was in the titaness’s tail stomach all right. The town was a few hundred feet ahead. Nary a building’s plank looked out of place.

Chapter 5: The City

“I can’t believe it, how?”, said Laddleplug. Grome bent over to offer his big strong hands to the gnome. The gnome stepped up and was hoisted on the barbarian’s shoulders. He hurriedly pulled out some parchment and started sketching what he saw.

“The city, Glainberg, it’s intact?”, said Thistle. “You think people are there?”

“The lights are on.”, said Laddleplug.

“This... complicates things.”, said Arafiel. “But we still have a mission, let’s go investigate.”

The party walked the few hundred feet to the start of the city. Glainberg wasn’t a walled city-state on the outside nor was it one in here. The entire city was thin in width but had long streets. The tail stomach was calm, but a stomach was a stomach. The ground still shifted under their feet now and then; the walls lightly undulated. The city seemed as though it was set in a valley of flesh really.

Wooden planks were setup to make a “road” of sorts. That was one of the thing Glainberg was known for: its plank roads despite being an inland city-state. Here, much of the road was broken now, and all of it was a tad warped from the fluids lining the living floor. Lanterns hung on the ropes between the wood and stone buildings, which served to light up the city quite nicely.

In the settlement, people were walking around the city as though it wasn’t inside a monster-woman’s gut. No later than the party reaching the first house did someone come up to great them. He was a fair-skinned older man with pointed ears, spectacles, and the clothes of a craftsman. Arafiel knew at a glance he was a half-elf.

The man reached out his hand to shake. The party was still surprised to see people living here, let alone any of the city intact. Only Grome reached out to grab his hand.

“Name’s Flynly”, he said. “Welcome to Glainberg.”

Grome smiled as he finished shaking the hand. All others stared on. Laddleplug spoke.

“How are you alive? Why’s the city intact?”

“Why, we’re all here thanks to Veezla, and one special hero in our midst hehe.”, he chuckled happily.

“I don't understand. Your city should be slurry by now?”, said Arafiel.

“Oh no no, Veezla isn’t digesting us.”

“What? What’s she doing then?”

“She’s just letting the city, and everyone in it, live in her for a bit. I assume that’s why you’re here, word must’ve got around?”

“Duh, no we’re here for the Drag-”

Arafiel put her hand over Grome’s mouth.

“We were here to rescue you all, if we could. We heard the city got eaten.”, said the drow.

“Oh it did.”, said Flynly.

“Then why are you are around here, seemingly... happy about things.”, asked Laddleplug.

“Let me explain, it’s one wacky tale. Someone from our village, a ranger by the name of Barns, accidentally stumbled upon Veezla. He was exploring her cave at the time, which he hadn’t heard was hers, and heard signs of distress. He walks up to the titaness and she doesn’t eat him, but asks for his help getting a tree out from between her teeth.”

Everyone listened, eyes-wide and speechless. The half-elf continued.

“So Barns had to get a tree out from between her molars. He braved her mouth, hoping not to be swallowed. The tree was heavy, but he cut some branches with his sword, then jabbed an arrow into the trunk with a rope at the other end. He got Veezla to grab the other end of the rope, somehow, and she pulled it out.”

“So, as a reward, she ate the city?”, said Thistle.

“Oh no... well... yes. she offered him a favor in return, and Barns said he wanted her to help keep the city safe from Mary Sueddon. I’m sure she’s still the big concern of the continent back on the outside right? Anyways, that was the best way she could think of to handle the request, Barns agreed, and, well, I’m sure you heard about her slithering up and swallowing the city down right?”

“But, how’s the city so intact? It was devoured?”, asked Laddleplug.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly intact when it arrived. Veezla did her best to bring us here slow as her body could, but it was still a bumpy ride. A bunch of buildings broke, but we just gathered what pieces we could and put them back on. She even swallowed a few dozen trees, that one stuck in her teeth included, to give us more materials to work with before heading to sleep.”

“So you say she can control whether her stomach’s digesting or not? If that’s so, how come we were feeling a sting earlier in her human stomach?”, said Laddleplug.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. We were only in that stomach for a little bit. Maybe she can control that separately.”, said Flynly.

“I, hmmm.”, spoke Laddleplug. “I guess that makes sense.”

The half-elf twitched his nose.

“Say, you all smell a bit like lemons. What’s going on with that?”

Thistle brought her elbow to her mouth and sniffed it. “He’s right!”, she said, then gave her arm a lick. She smacked her lips. “We taste like lemons too.”

Grome started licking the fingers of one hand, chuckling. Laddleplug reluctantly tasted the tip of his pointer finger.

“Oh dear.”, he said. “Instead of an anti-acid spell, I must've cast a lemon-acid spell by mistake. That’s why our skin was getting irritated in her stomach. It’s a good thing we didn’t stay there long, and that she wasn’t planning on digesting these fine folk.”

Arafiel hid her anger at that to keep a pleasant front for the party.

“That’s a very interesting and wonderful story. I guess you all don’t need to be rescued after all, but there’s another reason we’re here Flynly.”, she said.

“Oh?”

“We need the Dragon Orb.”

“The Dragon Orb? That’s the city’s greatest treasure. Why do you need that?”, said Flynly.

“To help defeat Mary Sueddon, of course.”, said Arafiel. She worked her best smile. It wasn’t entirely a lie, that’s why people would pay handsomely for that draconic artifact these days. That the party didn’t intend to use it themselves was something she left unmentioned.

“Hmmm”, said Flynly, stroking his chin. “Well I don’t have it, nor does the city museum anymore. We gave it to Barns as a reward for saving our city. If you want it, you’ll have to talk to him.”

“And where might he be?”

“At the pub. C’mon, I’ll walk you all there.”

Chapter 6: The Treasure

The streets were full of people of all sorts doing business. Traders hawked goods in the square. People passed by Flynly and the party while off to visit friends on the other side of the city. Thistle even noticed one bakery still operating, fire inside lit, making bread from stored grain. All this under the backdrop of undulating stomach flesh and omnipresent gurglings and glorps.

“So, how long do you all intend to say here?”, asked the bearded gnome, who rode on his barbarian friend still.

“Ah.”, began Flynly. His voice was a tad sullen. “Perhaps forever, that’s what I think.”

“What do you mean?”, said Arafiel.

“I don’t think they can beat that Mary woman if she shows up. All the best mages in Igrisos are spending their effort to keep our continent covered. If she needs that kind of power to keep out, then she’s powerful enough to get in eventually. Maybe some mage will have a random heart attack at the wrong time, maybe she just finds the right spell to crack the barrier. Point is, she’ll get through sooner or later.”

“They say she’s stopped prodding it as much.”, said Thistle.

“Aye, but that’s just cause she’s bored I think. Once she starts up again, I don’t think it’ll last long. We gotta just hope to hide out in here, start a new, great life.”

“Well, what about food?”, asked Laddleplug.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t grow anything in here. You’ll run out of supplies eventually.”

“Oh, Veezla has that covered. Barns says she promises to eat a whole bunch of things every month. Should give us enough meat to survive, meat and crops and sorts.”

“What about the people she’s taking livestock and crops from?”, asked the gnome.

“Well, they can’t exactly stop her. She said she’ll leave enough for them to get by, digest half for her self and give the rest to us to work with. I’m not too worried about that.”

The party seemed befuddled by the long term plan here, but before they could ask another question, they finally reached the pub.

It was a modest building, with two sets double-doors to enter from at the front. It was short, just two floors. The top one was for guests most likely. However, it was long. About the width of three or maybe two-and-a-half of the normal structures around the place.

“Welp, here we are. I’ll introduce to Barns. He’s a real nice guy, doesn’t let the fame go to his head.”

Flynly opened the doors and the party of four followed him inside.

The crowd was tame as far as pubs go, but that made sense given it had to be around afternoon hours. A few dwarves were playing cards at one table, other humanoids shared a meal in the corner. Light from wall sconces lit the place, which was made mostly of wood. A few leathery rugs dappled the otherwise bare-plank floors to add a bit of atmosphere to the place.

At the bar counter were a few patrons, but the only one of interest seemed to be a man with short brown hair. He wore a green tunic with brown leather padding and matching trousers. A bow was on his back, with a quiver next to it and a short sword on his side by a few belt pouches. He was definitely the ranger type, but a glimmering golden twinkle caught Arafiel’s eye. He had a side satchel where some sort of treasure seemed to be, given how the light hit it.

“There he is.”, said Flynly. “Barns!”, he called out.

“Oi Flynly!”, the man turned to face the group. It was then Arafiel and the others took in his facial features and age. He was a human, fair skinned with blue eyes. He was also quite handsome, which Arafiel seemed to respond to with a subtle dilation of her eyes. Thistle simply pursed her lips to the side as he wasn’t her metaphorical cup of tea. In fact, she looked at Barns side, where the Dragon Orb just barely poked out of that satchel of his.

The party walked up with Flynly.

“Who’s your friends there Flynly?”, said Barns.

“Ah these are adventurers. They didn’t know about the arrangement we had with Veezla.”

“Ah, well pleased to meet’cha.”

Barns stuck out his hand. Everyone in the party shook it, Grome most enthusiastically of all. They were sure to introduce themselves and share names as well.

“Oh well, quite the bunch you got here, who’s the leader.”

“That’d be me.”, said Arafiel.

“Well how can I help you? Flynly, why don’t you go get yourself a drink while I chat with these folks.”

The half-elf nodded then walked off, leaving Barns to chat with the party.

Arafiel filtered her fingers through her hair. She shrugged her shoulders to get more comfy in her leather armor, as well as show off her stuff a bit to the man in front of her.

“We heard you’re something of a hero, and also that you have the Dragon Orb. We were wondering if you’d be willing to part with it.”

Barns tilted his head. He motioned for the party to take a seat. Arafiel sat on the stool to his left, Thistle to his right. Grome sat next to Arafiel with Laddleplug on his shoulders. Barns raised his hand and ordered each member of the party a drink.

“The Dragon Orb? And what do you want with that?”, he said. His voice dipped a bit in volume.

“Well, we want to use it to try and stop Mary Sueddon. She’s why you agreed to get your town eaten right?”

The drinks arrived in wooden mugs. Barns took a sip of his before answering.

“That’s right. That queen’s crazy. I always knew magic royals, especially self-proclaimed, lead to trouble. I was following the news of her a year back when she only controlled one city. She was what, 20 then? 19?”, he said.

“Yes well, we think we could beat her if you’d be so kind as to lend the Dragon Orb.”

Barn smirked. He reached into his bag and pulled the treasure out. At last, the party could see it up close. It was a perfect sphere of gold. Black etchings of dragons and draconic symbols were etched into the surface. Each figure glimmered in the bar light with red like fire, or white like ice, or other colors to represent the breaths of the myriad dragon types of Leoria.

An ancient treasure, coveted by mortals and dragons alike. He set it on the bar counter by Thistle. He slid two cork coasters on either side of the thing to keep it from rolling off.

“Lend it to you huh?”, spoke Barns. He looked into the drow’s red eyes and smirked.

“I wasn’t born yesterday.”, he said. “If you’re smart enough to track it down here and dumb enough to climb in a titaness’s mouth, then you’re the right level of intelligence to know and care that this thing’s worth a fortune. How can I trust you won’t just sell this on the surface, or use it for evil or something. I don’t know any of you at all, and you’re coming to me to ask for an artifact?”

Arafiel’s nose twitched. She spoke.

“Well, it’s a lot to ask but I can promise we won’t let it get in the wrong hands.” It was another half-truth. The party planned to sell it, but she’d at least sell it to a city-state and not some random villain.

Barns turned to give the drow his full attention. He shook his head side to side. “No no. I can’t take that risk. I’m willing to trade for it though.”

“A trade?”

He nodded.

“I want out of this city.”

“What?”, said Arafiel. Laddleplug was half-listening at this point, sketching on a scroll while Grome got a refill from the barkeep. Thistle was ogling the orb.

“But, didn’t you help Veezla to get the city safe? Don’t you want to live here?”

“Nah.”, he said. “I don’t wanna spend my whole life in just one city, especially if it’s in some titaness’s gut. I mean, this place is real humid. Safe or no, the air’s not the freshest. Besides, I learned I’m just the type person who needs adventure in my life. I thought I could retire early as a hero to Glainberg, but it’s just so boring. I need some open air, the woods.”

He scooted a bit closer to the drow and leaned in close.

“So tell you what, Arafiel. I don’t care if you were planning to sell this, so long as we do an even split. Here’s my trade. I’ll give you the orb for whatever plan you had, long as it was no less noble than selling it off. In exchange, you take me with you all out of here and on whatever future journeys, treasure hunting, or heists or whatever it is you four do. Sound good?”

Arafiel felt a somewhat rare emotion during her usual negotiations: surprise. She leaned back, eyes wide, then leaned back in.

“I think that can be arranged. I expect Jeley to pay a fortune for the orb, enough for any one of us to live how we please. I don’t think the others will mind upgrading to a party of 5.”

She smiled.

“You’re in, and we have a deal, let’s toast to it.”

She took up her mug, Barns took up his, and they tapped their drinks together. The two chugged.

Laddleplug looked up from his scroll at Arafiel’s elbow.

“Oh, we figure something out?”, he said.

“We did.”, said the drow.

“Yup”, said Barns. “Looks like I’ll be joining you fine folks. Just let me grab the orb here and-”

Barns turned to his side and fell right off the stool. He realized he couldn’t move his legs that much. He took a gander by his boots.

“Vines? What the?”

Without Barns in the way, Arafiel saw something.

“The orb, where’d it go?”

It was gone, as was Thistle. She looked down and noticed vines about her legs. Everyone sitting at the bar counter was ensnared at their ankles by the plants. Over by the entrance, she heard some familiar laughter.

Thistle had the orb in her hands. She rubbed her fingers across its surface.

“At last.”, she said. “At last, the power of the dragons is mine!”

Chapter 7: The Betrayal

“Thistle, what the fuck are you doing?”, shouted Arafiel.

“Get her, that mangy druid is up to something!”, shouted Barns.

All of the tough types in the bar started charging Thistle’s way, but a wave of the druid’s hand surrounded her in a little whirlwind. The twirling wind was fierce enough to knock mugs off their counters and reduce the speed of anyone in it to about 5 feet every 6 or so seconds. It was more than enough time for her plans.

“I’m tired of watching the people of Igrisos chop down the forest and besmirch nature, and I’m tired of being powerless to stop it. I’m tired of being some tiny, scrappy druid who has to put up with you all just to survive in the world. Mangy druid? Oh no, I’m about to become something much more. No more turning into spiders and squirrels. The ultimate transformation awaits me, that of a queen of dragons!”

Laddleplug was stunned speechless. The other members of the party worked on getting free from Thistle’s vines. Meanwhile, she started chanting some strange, harsh words.

“What is that?”, shouted Arafiel over the roar of the whirlwind.

“I think that’s dragon language. She must’ve learned some words for this. Who knows how long she’s been planning it.”, shouted Laddleplug.

Thistle’s hair fluttered more than the wind would account for. Her bare feet lifted from the ground as she hovered. The dragon orb began to glow bright, too bright to see it anymore. The ball of light it became unfurled to the shape of a little dragon that seemed to protest as it passed right into Thistle’s body.

The brown haired woman let out a moan.

“Yes, it’s happening!”, she said.

Arafiel managed to reach her knife and, *schling*, cut the vines by her legs. She sliced herself free about the same time Barns cut himself loose. Grome managed to just rip the vines off with his strength. The three of them rushed Thistle.

“Too late!”, the druid shouted.

And it was.

Thistle’s body began to change. Black scales started forming on what part of her skin showed through her plant, bark, and cloth rags of an outfit. Her garbs started tearing and breaking as her entire body expanded. A hole in her pants formed as a long tail shot out and started swinging wildly. It knocked over some tough looking bar patron trying to approach her from behind.

“This feels... amazing!”, shouted Thistle. The party realized her voice was beginning to change. It was still Thistle’s, but it had a mild thooming overtone to it now. Her words oozed more power. She started outright grunting from the sensations of draconic energy and might infusing her.

Pretty soon she was stark naked, with black scales forming around her genitalia, the tops of her bosom, the outside of her arms and thighs. Still more were coming into view, but by then most people wised up that they shouldn’t stare. Thistle was growing rapidly, and the roof started to cave in.

“We gotta get out of here!”, said Arafiel.

“Your own druid betrayed you? The druid huh?”, said Barns as he ran with the drow, orc, and gnome to the back entrance.

“She was always a bit chaotic at times.”, murmured Laddleplug. “But evil? Neutral, maybe, but evil like this I never figured.”

“Thistle’s bad!”, grumbled Grome. He followed behind the two others as they left the bar just in time for it to collapse.

Others patrons were not so lucky. Intoxicated on the sensations of power, Thistle cared little for those overrun as she grew. One patron tripped and fell before her expanding feet. Thistle’s nails turned black, hard, and sharp just in time to puncture the man’s skin and then overrun him under a sole.

The swishes of her tail knocked over every table in the place and broke a few bones. It was natural for her to move the black-scaled tail, and not just cause she was used to tails turning into forest critters. No, her familiarity with it was as if she always had it. The form she was taking was as intuitive as can be.

Still, to test it out, a grinning Thistle worked the limb to snatch a patron.

“Got you. You’re a sturdy looking sort. I bet you’re not the kindest to the nature you take from. Let’s see if I can pop you.”

Thistle had just grown out of the bar by then, standing more than 30ft tall. Her tail tightened around that poor patron. As she grew, so did her strength, and soon she was able to squeeze tight enough to bisect him in two.

“Ha!”, she roared. “Such power. All mine!”

Laughing wildly, Thistle’s change kept on progressing. More scales covered her naked body, eventually stopping once they ran down most of her back, the top side of her tits, and the upper parts of her thighs and arms. They crept down the side of her limbs too, and protected her neck while decorating her face. Her fair skin became darker, a strangely alluring shade of green. It looked a bit like moonlight moss, only uniform and blemish free.

Her eyes were still green, though they had a glowing shimmer to them now. Her hands and feet were scaled on their tops with black sharp nails. As her growth continued, she felt a prodding sensation at her back. Nubs started protruding there. It felt tight, but not painful or even “bad”. Then, that feeling ended as two broad black dragon wings sprouted from her back.

Thistle grinned wide with her new sharp teeth. Almost every front tooth now looked like a fang, even though her head and face were in tact and like a human’s. As her growth came to a close, she at last sprouted two dragon-like horns from her forehead: pointy and black.

When all was said and done, the party and dozens of gawkers looked up towards the former druid. She stood 300 feet tall, far taller than most any dragon of legend.

“What have you done to yourself?!?”, shouted Laddleplug. “Look what you’ve done to this city too.”

Thistle’s growth wasn’t without causalities of course. A few structures near the bar collapsed beneath her expanding feet or against her tail during her spurt. Plenty of people were overtaken by her growth as well. The blood they split didn’t stick well to her scales or skin. Instead, it pooled in dry red stains by her feet.

“I’ve become more than a dragon, something more. The essence of dragons flows within me.”, bellowed the new and, in her mind, improved Thistle. “Death to this city, and to all civilizations that disrespect nature. I’ll get out of here, and I’ll do it without Veezla even noticing.”

She dashed her tail through the last few buildings in its reach. Wooden planks flew out in showers of splinters when met with her bulwark of a tail.

“Then, I’ll take on a new role in Igrisos: The Queen of Dragons. I’ll style myself as a guardian of nature. The other druids will worship me. I’ll lead them and every dragon I can find to purge the continent of mortal civilization. Every city will melt! Then, the worthy can live among nature as people were always meant to. Muwhahaha!”

“You’re stupid!”, shouted Barns.

“Thistle, if you destroy all the cities of Igrisos, the Continental barrier will falter. Mary will invade and slurp up your soul along with everyone else’s.”

“No.”, shouted Thistle. “You’re the dumb ones. I’ll be able to beat Mary as I am now, no matter how big that sorceress can get. This power... it’s overwhelming. I can feel it flowing in my chest.”

She moved her hand to her bosom for emphasis.

“I can just tell I’ll be able to get any dragon I see to do my bidding; just look at me. That army alone would be unstoppable. It certainly won’t be stopped by the likes of you or other mortals. Just to be safe though, I’ll wipe you out. I wouldn’t want any loose ends.”

“No!”, shouted Grome of all people. He pounded his bikini-armored chest and charged forward.

“I won’t let you hurt Grome’s friends!”

“Grome no!!!” shouted Arafiel.

The orc barbarian unsheathed a hand ax from his side and rushed at Thistle’s toes. The dragon-woman merely chuckled and lifted her foot up. Grome was tall, but to a 300ft dragon-woman he wasn’t even two inches to compare.

Thistle’s sole hung over the orc’s head. In a rare moment of intelligence and keen awareness, Grome realized he had made a mistake. He dropped his ax and had just enough time to pick up Laddleplug. He turned around and threw the gnome back towards his allies. That was all he managed to do before that foot came down.

“Grome!!!”, cried Laddleplug as he soared through the air. He had seen his good friend, snuffed out like a bug. The foot’s fall reverberated through the fleshy stomach floor of the tail gut similar to how any quaking stomp would.

Laddleplug landed on the living ground and stood up. He was too shocked to move. Grome was gone.

Barns picked up the gnome and shook him out of his stupor.

“We have to go!”, he said. While Thistle laughed, the three remaining party members ran away from her.

“She can get us too easily.”, said Barns.

“Laddleplug, let’s teleport out.”, said Arafiel.

“Of course.”, said the gnome. He waved his hands to cast the spell, but it fizzled out. Something was wrong.

“The circle!”, said Laddleplug. “The circle I drew must’ve got messed up somehow. Veezla might’ve moved her hand while sleeping and rubbed out the chalk.”

“And it’d be too risky to try and teleport out without it.”, said Barns.

“Very much so.”, said Laddleplug. The gnome turned to Arafiel, who seemed lost in thought.

“What are we to do?”, he said, dejected.

“Let’s split up, it’s the only way. We’ll split her attention through the city and try to get to that sphincter out of here. If we can get out, wake Veezla somehow, she’ll be able to deal with Thistle.”

“Good point.”, said Barns. “That dragon-druid’s big, but she’d only be a bit more than a bug to the titaness.”

“It’s settled then, let’s split through the city towards where we came in.”, said Arafiel.

Laddleplug waved his hands and cast a hasting spell on the three. He explained that would gave them all a bit more running potential and speed.

“Alright, let’s go!”

The three split up and dashed through the planked streets of the city. Thistle watched.

“Run as fast as you want, but you’re just bugs to me, I’ll catch you in time.”, she shouted.

She watched other citizens of Glainberg flee as well. They darted between buildings as thick, panicked mobs.

“I’ll get you all!”

Thistle raised her foot and took a destructive step onto a few buildings. She moved in the direction of the party.

Chapter 8: The Chase

Thistle hadn’t felt this good since... ever. She was huge, and felt huge. She felt the strength in every twitch of her body. Her physique hadn’t changed really, just her form, yet her strength felt like it increased 10 fold even without the boost in height.

No longer was she the meek druid, forced to heal minor wounds while her party members did most of the work. No more would she turn into a crocodile to ferry the party across a river one by one without much more than a “thanks”.

She was a draconic being now. The best one there’d be in her mind. A queen of dragons.

People fled from her now. They scurried.

“Bugs!”, she shouted. “That’s what you all look like. You cowardly villagers, hiding in the belly of a titaness to try and avoid the world. Just like bugs under a stone. Well, like insects, I’m gonna squish you flat. Haha!”

Thistle had no qualms crushing houses as she marched after her former party members. She sought out the structures to feel them flatten beneath her steps. Her right foot fell on a potion shop, where an alchemist plied their trade. He thought to hide under his store counter, and ended up popping beneath the big toe of Thistle’s right foot.

Another step took out a cozy little restaurant, where the villagers would get tea and sweetbread. Her heel broke the roof then the bodies of everyone within.

Of course, her feet were big enough to encroach into the streets as well. She marched right along those plank roads and flattened mob after mob beneath her tread. People exploded in mists of red. She ended dozens of lives by the time she felt a power within her. It brewed in her chest like before.

She intuitively knew what it was: what she was capable of.

“I can feel it.”, she said. “One of the best marks of a dragon.”

Her voice carried to the party as they ran. They were too focused to turn back, and Thistle too arrogant to not pause for a demonstration.

She looked at the dense mobs of people trailing the party members. Dozens more buildings were around the citizens of Glainberg as they scrambled over one another, tripping over each other and wood-planks warped by humidity and from the otherwise-harmless stomach fluids within the titaness Veezla’s tail gut.

Thistle arched her head back. She brought the power bubbling in her chest up through her gullet. She could feel it, and was gonna unleashed it.

With her mouth pointed square at that dense pack of people, she breathed out like a dragon would. A torrent greenish smoke roared out her maw.

Though not fire, her dragon’s breath was burning all the same. The green gas filtered through the crowds and started melting their flesh right off. It ate at the wood and stone of buildings too, turning it to pulp and rock-slush. It seemed that in her new form, Thistle was a dragon-woman that breathed acid.

The crowd flailed helplessly as their muscles dissolved off their bones, which soon fell and melted as well. People pooled to puddles under such powerful acids. The only thing that seemed safe was the stomach floor of the tail gut itself, which was naturally resistant to acid as any giant stomach should be.

Entire crowds of people, dozens of buildings, all just melted under that onslaught of dragon breath.

Thistle finally finished, though the cloud still lingered. Bold, she stepped right through it, unharmed.

“Haha, I’m unstoppable!”, she shouted. “Better than any dragon, any druid, any human!”

--==--==--==--

“Fuck fuck fuck.”, said Barns. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah I did.”, said Arafiel.

“Those poor people.”, said Laddleplug.

The streets converged further along the city, which meant the party did as well. They had met up just after Thistle finished testing out her new deadly breath power. Her quaking, stomach vibrating steps picked up again shortly after. The three looked behind and frowned to each other after.

“What do we do? I’m not sure we’ll make it to the beginning of the tail in time. Even with speed magic on our side, she’s just too big!”, said Laddleplug.

“My house.”, said Barns between pants. “It’s not far off. I got another treasure in it. A carpet, can fly. A genie gave it to me once.”

“A genie?”, said Arafiel.

“Long story. Point is it’s big enough for four, we’re three, one of us a gnome. It’ll get us out of the stomach easy and fast.”

“Can’t you just fly us out of here yourself Laddleplug? Isn’t there a spell for that?”, said Arafiel.

“It’s not one I remember I’m afraid. I think his idea’s better.”, said Laddleplug

“Alright, let’s go then.”, said Arafiel.

The three of them moved through the panicked streets of the stomach-stored city. Thistle kept stomping behind them, but Barns knew the right buildings to swerve through to get to his home the fastest way possible.

A macabre thought, though one the party did acknowledge, was that the hundreds of people between them and Thistle served as convenient distractions. The draconic-druidess enjoyed stomping out the biggest clumps of people she saw, and wasn’t above moving a bit inefficiently if it meant crumbling an extra house or mob underfoot.

Barns’s place was a modest single story wood-made home which wasn’t out of the ordinary aside from being a bit messy. There was a stew-pot in one corner with a cot in the other. Otherwise, a bunch of chests, sacks, and two wardrobes filled the space.

“Doesn’t seem very organized.”, said Arafiel.

“I have a system.”, said Barns. “Let me get that magic carpet.”

Barns opened one of the chests, then another. He moved to one of the wardrobes and couldn’t find the carpet there either.

“Now where’d I put it.”

The foot steps kept increasing. The party was getting concerned. Barns managed to open the second wardrobe after some tugging, and a large tasseled rug with purple and red patterns fell out atop him. He scrambled out from underneath its covering.

“Found it!”, he said.

It was at the moment the quakes seemed louder than ever. The entire floor of his house shifted as the stomach flesh beneath warbled. It was pretty clear Thistle was right outside the house. When she leaned down to rip off the roof, it became abundantly clear.

“There you all are, wait, where’s Laddleplug?”, said Thistle. Unknown to her, the gnome was hiding. Arafiel, in a rare moment of consideration for others, had stuffed the stunned Laddleplug into a chest in the corner of the room just in time for the roof to rip off.

“He’s already gone.”, said Arafiel as she pulled out her daggers. “He’s off to wake Veezla, who will figure out a way to get you out of here. You’re nothing to a titaness, Thistle!”

“Yeah!”, said Barns. He had an arrow notched in his bow and let it lose at Thistle. It shattered harmlessly against the scales on her neck. She laughed as she got back to a looming standing height.

“Ha, you idiots.”

She lifted her foot and stomped down hard enough to knock the two off their feet. Once that was done, she quickly bent back over to scoop them up: one in each hand.

Standing back up yet again,

“Just a step of mine is enough to tumble you. Go ahead, wake Veezla up. I’ll be fast enough to catch up to the gnome and get out of here, even if I spend a bit of time toying with you.”

She laughed as the drow and human man fidgeted in her tight grip. She turned to Barns in her left hand and smiled wide and toothy. A roaring sound started forming in her chest.

“Look at you, already trying to replace me in the party. Fine, the party’s over anyways. I don’t need you.”, she said, turning to Arafiel at the end. “I’m gonna make you wish Laddleplug didn’t mess up that anti-acid spell though.”

Thistle’s throat lurched as Arafiel grunted. The drow braced herself for the acid breath she knew was coming. Yet, a moment before the dragon-traited woman’s jaw flung open, she turned to her left hand and blasted Barns instead.

“No-ARGGHHH!”, screamed Barns as he took the brunt of the acidic attack. The green gaseous roar of draconic breath melted him down past the bones right before Arafiel’s very eyes. She screamed out herself.

“No!”

But Thistle just kept blowing till Barn’s was nothing but dust, dissolved as much as he could be pretty much. She unclenched her fist and the two watched--one with delight, the other with horror--as just a scant few blackened bones fell hundreds of feet to the stomach floor below.

“You monster! You fucking, stupid vile- How could you betray us after all we’ve been through?!?”, said Arafiel. She tried with all her might to pry her arms free from her sides, but Thistle’s fingers were too strong, each thick as a tree.

The former human laughed right in the drow’s face.

“Look at little miss righteous all the sudden. You’ve spent your entire life being a thief, and now you care about these things. But, you’re right, I guess I am at least a bit of a monster now. That is what we humanoids called dragons, right? Well, if I’m a bit of a dragon I should act like one and eat some people. I think I’ll start with you, my bossy runt of an ex-companion.”

Thistle opened her maw and Arafiel recoiled as that hot breath hit her. The salivating mouth was pretty human save for an ominous green glow on the interior flesh. There were plenty of sharp teeth too. A moist tongue snaked out to lap at Arafiel’s head as it stuck out of the hand-hold.

“You, what are you doing?”, said Arafiel. “This is disgusting.”

“Oh is it?”, said Thistle. “I seem to remember you swallowing a fairy whole not too long ago.”

“That was different.”

“I think you’ll be surprised how similarly painful it could be getting digested alive. Then again, I wonder if my acids hurt more, since I’m apparently part dragon now?”

Thistle grinned.

“I guess you’ll find out. But first lets get that gear of yours off. I wouldn’t want any daggers trying to poke me on the inside.”

Thistle unfurled her hand and quickly pinned Arafiel with her thumb. Her other hand sliced open the drow’s leather garbs with a sharp black finger-nail. The dragon-woman’s green eyes widened as the leather and cloth fell to the side, leaving the drow’s ash-dark body completely bare.

Thistle licked her lips and pinched the drow up by her silver-hair. She moved her prey close and gave that naked body a long lick.

“Urgh.”, said Arafiel as she shuddered. Warm spittle cloyed at her form.

Thistle smiled wide and went for another lick, stopping her tongue by Arafiel’s chest. The drow tried to shove the muscle away, but it was too strong and slippery.

“You, w-what are you doing?”

“Mmm.”, murmured Thistle. “I’ve always admired your body some, Araffy. Elves have all the luck: beautiful, dexterous, immortal. We humans have to get lucky for the first, second, and work hard for the latter two.”

She took another lick of Arafiel’s body.

“You’ll be the first person I eat. You should be honored. The Queen of Dragon’s first mortal meal. Being digested will be like becoming a part of me too. A high honor indeed.”

“You’re fucking depraved.”

“You’re food.”

Thistle opened wide and plopped Arafiel onto her mouth. The drow wasn’t gonna go down without a fight. She kicked at the tongue and pushed at whatever slick flesh she could. Pointless. The tongue itself was thicker and longer than the drow, and it had no problem pushing her around like a rag doll.

Arafiel put up a fight, but she did go down. Tight suction sent her down the slimy throat towards her doom. The throat flesh was lit an eerie green as it hugged her in a slimy hold.

It was a far tighter fit than going into Veezla’s gut, but with a squelching glitch she plopped down in Thistle’s gut. Here, that green light remained to illuminate the churning innards of the so-called Queen of Dragons.

The acrid air stung Arafiel’s eyes. It was hard to get herself oriented in the churning organ. When she finally slumped against a slimy stomach wall, a loud booming pat knocked her pack. On the outside, Thistle drummed her fingers against her stomach.

“I can feel you in there, just a little bit. I hope you’re a good squirmer.”

“Fuck you!”, shouted Arafiel. But she couldn't tell from Thistle’s laughter whether her former party member heard her or not.

The acidic fluids splashed around with the churns, coating her. She feel her skin burn. It was something fierce, yet all too slow. Sh tried to resist screaming, flailing; she tried to resist giving Thistle the satisfaction. It just hurt so bad, though, that she gave in quick. Her naked body, dark skin blistering, pounded at the stomach wall with all her might.

She got more laughter in return.

The organ was too strong. Even with her daggers, she wouldn’t have been able to make a single cut let alone carve her way out.

Arafiel was food.

--==--==--==--

Thistle moved her tongue about her mouth.

“Not bad.”, she said. “I can see why dragons are known to do this sort of thing.”

She pattered her fingers against her taut naked tummy while Arafiel screamed and squirmed within.

“Aright Laddleplug!”, she roared. “Show yourself!”

Some time passed with no sounds other than the churning tail gut, Thistle’s breathing, and the panicked screaming below.

“I said show yourself coward! I’ll find you eventually-”

A tremendous roar rung out, alongside a noise loud enough to shock even Thistle. In front of the dragon-woman, above the buildings between her and the exit sphincter, a flash of lights and magical explosions rung out. It was all sorts of colors, beautiful really, if not for how short and fierce it was.

“Ha!”, she shouted. “You missed!”

“I didn’t miss!”, said Laddleplug. He magically amplified his voice from somewhere in the city. Thistle turned her head to try and see him among the throng of people, but he was too short to spot.

An immense quake rocked the city of Glainberg. The entire living chamber the city was in started to churn. Buildings and people tumbled. Even Thistle lost her footing. She fell belly-first over a smattering of buildings and people: crushing it all.

A great sound rumbled through the walls of the tail gut. One that could be felt in Thistle’s bones.

*“Yaaaaaaaawn”*

Veezla was waking up.

Chapter 9: The Escape

Thistle got back to her feet and brushed herself off of a few peasants that clung to her body. They screamed as they plummeted to plop by her toes.

“You idiot!”, she shouted. “Why would you wake her up Laddleplug? I’ll still get out of here. All you’ve done is make it harder for all people inside her.”

Laddleplug’s magically amplified voice shouted back.

“You would’ve killed them anyways.”, he said.

“They should be lucky to be killed by a dragon like me.”

“You are no dragon!”, Laddleplug retorted. “You’re just some draconic monster, playing with powers no mortal should have.”

“I’ll show you monster. I’ll rip you to bits and send those parts down Arafiel’s way.”

“You’ll go no further!”, Laddleplug shouted and he cast a great fog spell.

Opaque mist swathed the city and hid him from view. Thistle couldn’t find him before and she couldn’t now, but she knew he was somewhere in the fog. She stamped her feet randomly, and even belted out a few more blasts of her acid breath. Hundreds more suffered, died, but she didn’t find him. She didn’t recognize his scream from the victims she blindly killed.

Then, she had an idea.

“Fool!”, she shouted. “You forget I’m also a druid still. Nature heeds my call.”

She waved her hands and conjured a whirlwind to whip away the fog. Laddleplug finally came into view behind the mists, sitting on a magic carpet. The magical transport floated above the buildings on the far end of the city from Thistle’s perspective.

Thistle flapped her wings and flew towards Laddleplug, who quickly commanded the carpet he was on to head towards the gut’s entry point: a ringed sphincter within sight.

The black-scaled monster-woman faced down as she soared forward. Mobs of people were stumbling over from the churning quakes of Veezla’s gut. Though the titaness didn’t seem to be digesting them, as she had supposedly promised, while awake the tail gut did stir. It was its own sort of hazard, as many people fell over to be trampled by one another.

Thistle upped the danger by opening her mouth and breathing her acid breath directly down as she flew above the streets. Hundreds melted beneath her acrid breath. Once done with that, she reached out her hands to scoop up clumps of building and building bits, which she greedily stuffed in her gob and gulped.

Inside Thistle’s gut, Arafiel soon had company in the form of dozens of other screaming people. They plopped atop and around her, too terrified and agonized to really talk to and coordinate. Everyone pushed and shoved each other in the gut. All the contact further irritated their melting and burning flesh. The drow didn’t have much longer in there.

On the outside, Laddleplug turned his head to watch as his carpet soared forward. Thistle was fast now, faster than him, but he had a really good head-start, so he wasn’t too concerned about taking a peek at what was going on.

Thistle was ravenous, vindictive, and utterly intoxicated on her power. She lowered her tail to cleave through the buildings as she soared his way. A flap of her wings sent mobs below flying as she gave herself a burst of speed. She tipped her toes into some of the taller structures. Stately towers of wood and stone collapsed on contact with those black-nailed digits.

The sphincter was upon Laddleplug. Re-summoned his orb of light, then he waved his hands and shouted the words to cast his door opening spell, which thankfully still worked on the sphincter itself. The fleshy gate squelched open and he flew through.

Thistle was right behind him. She had been gaining speed all the while. However, the living tunnel back to Veezla’s human gut was a little more of a tight fit for her. Still, he just narrowly dodged her grabbing hand as she entered the esophagus-like passageway.

“Grrr, I’ll get you little gnome. I’ll make you suffer. I’ll make you beg!”, shouted Thistle. She dug her fingers into the flesh at her sides, never managing to pierce it, though. Veezla’s flesh was invincible even to Thistle. Still, with her strength, the dragon-woman pulled her self up and after Laddleplug.

“You’re intolerable.”, said Laddleplug. It was the best he could come up with as he held his focus on the spell.

Going into Veezla’s tail gut was easy, since the titaness’s body naturally wanted to bring what it thought “food” inside it. Getting out was not what the tunnel was made for, so he needed to keep the spell going to stop the fleshy walls from closing around him and bringing him back towards the tail gut.

Of course, the thought gave Laddleplug an idea. He waited till he cleared the sphincter back to Veezla’s human gut, then lapsed concentration of his spell.

Thistle was suddenly squeezed as that tunnel of flesh gripped her tight. Alas, Laddleplug was a bit too late. Once of her arms poked past the sphincter.

Thistle felt Veezla’s body trying to tug her down. Even the casual, automatic processes of the titaness carried immense strength. But, with all her might and a conjured whirlwind behind her back, the draconic-druidess managed to pull herself up and in Veezla’s gut.

Here, the acid stung at Laddleplug’s eyes. Veezla hadn’t turned off the problematic digestive fluids within her human gut, as he knew well. His carpet’s tassels looked frayed and soggy from the acrid, torrid air. He hoped the magical item would last long enough to make it to that sphincter towards Veezla’s throat, which loomed near the top of the living chamber. He had his light orb to guide him still, thankfully.

“Where do you think you are going!”, said Thistle. The acid didn’t affect her nearly as much, though her eyes did sting. A titan could eat anything according to legends.

“I’m going to to get you and devour you. I can feel everyone I swallowed wiggling inside me. No wonder the big types do it so often. I think my first stop once I leave this gut and the cave Veezla’s in will be your home village. That nice little forest town by some hills. I remember where it is. You gnomes have been freeloading off nature a bit too long if you ask me. Since I’ll be nature’s ultimate protector, it’s only natural you’ll be giving back to me.”

She flapped her wings and flew after a shuddering Laddleplug. The gnome steered the carpet to narrowly dodge a chomp. Just after that, some acid fell from the stomach’s “ceiling” to splash by Thistle’s eyes. She shook it off, but paused to do so.

Laddleplug was too far ahead of her now, so she inhaled and shot a gale of acid breath his way. The gnome steered his carpet out of the way in the nick of time. He cast his passage-opening spell again and the sphincter to the throat squelched open. Thistle followed in after him.

With the throat flesh undulating and dripping their slimy and slick fluids all around him, Laddleplug rode. Veezla must’ve felt something going on, as she swallowed at a point.

Excess saliva fell down the throat as big globs. If just one of those hit the carpet, it’d be inundated. Laddleplug didn’t want to find out how wet the carpet could get before it stopped working.

He managed to dodge all the drops, just narrowly missing the last one. They instead plopped onto the enraged face of Thistle, who was pulling herself up the throat right behind him. It brought him some time, enough to finally get out of the throat and back into Veezla’s mouth.

The lips were open, light from the glowing fungi of the cave reaching that maw.

“Yes!”, he shouted. “Free at last!”

“Not so fast!”, said Thistle. She had just poked her head past the uvula and exhaled a blast of acidic air. As Laddleplug soared out that cavern of the maw, his carpet was singed. With half of it melting away fast, he started to descend rapidly. He had no choice but to cast a slow-fall spell to avoid splatting on the cave ground.

Thistle knew this, and she quickly flew after him. Just before he hit the ground, she pounced on him. Her foot fell upon him and pinned him to the ground. She applied a bit of pressure.

“Got you!”, she said. “And I’m free too.” She shook her body free of excess spit and other fluids.

“Finally, Laddleplug, the last little lose end from my days as a mere, mortal druid. I’m going to squash you out of this realm, then I’m gonna wipe out your home village, and enjoying flattening and devouring every single one of your kind I can find!”

“You will not”, boomed a powerful voice. It echoed around the entire cave.

Thistle looked to see the back of a purple skinned hand coming her way. It was wider than she was tall.

“No, how could-”

The hand smacked into Thistle and knocked her over hundreds of feet in the distance. Before she could scramble up and run, the soft palm of the hand came down on her. Its weight pinned her with ease.

It was a hand of Veezla. She was awake and alert. Her big purple eyes, taller than buildings, settled on Laddleplug. The gnome slowly stood up. She set a finger from her other hand to the ground by him.

“Are you hurt?”, she said. Her voice had a powerful, primordial quality to it. But, it was also oddly gentle in a sense.

“I-I, I thank you.” said Laddleplug. He quickly hopped up onto her finger, which was as a hill to him. He settled on the soft pad of that finger.

“You seem exhausted.”, said Veezla.

“I am.”, he replied. Somehow, she could hear him. Must be some sort of titan sense.

“We weren’t from the city you ate.”

“We?”, spoke Veezla. That tone of voice hit Laddleplug again. The volume rumbled his entire body, but Veezla spoke with a sort of listlessness in her voice. It was as if she had seen and heard most everything, and it leaked into her voice. Her words were fluent, but came out with that subtle sort of archaic tone.

“I, yes. My name is Laddleplug.”, he began. “There were four of us, and we met Barns, the one who got that tree out of your teeth. But, one of our own betrayed us and took the Dragon Orb. Her name is Thistle. She’s the one under your hand.”

“Is that so?”, spoke Veezla.

“Yes. What do you intend to do with her?”

“She must be punished, of course. I haven’t settled on how.”, said the titaness.

Veezla’s right hand pressed its fingers down. Thistle let out a scream as the digits broke the knee-bones of her legs. She begged Veezla to stop, but her words were ignored.

“That is a start.”, said Veezla with the fainest sort of smile.

“Even with the stolen power of the Dragon Orb, she is still but a bug to me. She will not be a threat. I’ve calmed down my tail-stomach again. Hopefully my surprise awakening hasn’t hurt Glainberg too much.”

“I see.”, said Laddleplug. He was disheveled and wet still, from the days harrowing events.

“Can I ask you something?”, said Laddleplug.

“I suppose.” said Veezla.

“Why did you help the city? Even after Barns got a tree out of your teeth, there was no reason to save an entire mortal city. I mean, isn’t it annoying to have to not use an entire stomach of yours?”

“A fair question.”, said Veezla. Her breath washed over Laddleplug with every word she spoke. Even the slightest movement of her gigantic frame vibrated the palm beneath him. She was immense.

“I have gotten pointless destruction out of my system, millennia ago. Now I rampage to feed and not much more. I admit, I find you mortals a curious sort. So tiny, yet so determined and happy. That happiness leaks over to me. It’s... quaint. Yes, I think that would be the word you would use.”

Laddleplug softly smiled. Something about a titaness calling his entire existence quaint seemed funny.

“Also.”, said Veezla. “I wanted to ensure some life on Igrisos survived. I worry about recent developments, that the entire continent could-”

The titaness paused. Laddleplug did as well. Even the draconic-druidess ceased her whimpering. They all felt something. Something big.

Quakes.

Rhythmic tremors that shook the entire mountain. The sounds of swaths of forests being flattened reached Veezla’s hyper sensitive ears as they echoed through the entry of her cave. She heard stones rumble off the slope of her mountain lair.

“It can’t be, could it?”, said Veezla in about as soft a tone as a titaness could.

“Is that an avalanche?”, said Laddleplug.

The entire ceiling of Veezla’s cave started shaking and crumbling. Light flooded the chamber as the very top of the mountain was torn off. There was no sky to greet the three within. Instead, they saw a big, sky-blue eye staring back at them.

Chapter 10: The Queen

“Well well, what have we here~”

The words bounced around the cave. Even Veezla seemed shaken by them. They were magically altered words. It would have been hard for Laddleplug or Thistle to make them out elsewise. The feminine-sounding source wanted to be heard.

It was the voice of Mary Sueddon. The self-proclaimed queen of all. It was her eye that eclipsed the sky, which meant she had to stand at least 20 miles tall, which was a good 10-times Veezla’s total length.

The sorceress queen was wearing a royal two-piece swimsuit she conjured herself. It was black and purple, with hints of pink like her shoulder-length pink her, and cyan like her sky-blue eyes. It was dry, thanks to a bit of drying prestidigitation on Mary’s end.

Otherwise, the petite fair-skinned queen had on nothing at all save one gigantic gold and gemmed ring on her right hand. She was as beautiful as could be, by luck not magic, though her body and clothes were kept clean by a powerful enchantment. She was in her early 20s, and looked the part with her youthful and pretty countenance.

The path to the mountain was littered with footprints near 3 miles in length. Though no settlement crushed beneath the steps, much forest land did.

“What a large little monster you are.”, came the voice again. There was a saccharine sweetness to the timbre, even as it echoed through the very beings of the three at her mercy.

Veezla was shocked. No one had seen Mary Sueddon in person before. Even she had heard the rumors of the sorceress who could grow to obscene heights. But, something this big, it rivaled the gods.

In the titaness’s shock, her hand loosened. Thistle used the opportunity to crawl past the titaness’s purple fingers. Her legs were lame from having her knee caps crushed, but with her wings she could still fly, and fly she did.

Thistle took to the air and soared up and up. Veezla and Laddleplug were too distracted to even notice her till she spoke.

“Yes!”, shouted Thistle. “I’ll get free and heal, then I’ll hide, and return once this continent is wiped of people by Mary. Then, I’ll still rule. Mwahahaha!”

Thistle flew past the mountain top. Mary Sueddon didn’t even deign to look at the draconic-druidess. Those dragon wings took Thistle out of the mountain and into the open air. There, she saw Mary Sueddon was wearing some kind of bikini? There was no water on her form, which made it all the more curious a choice of outfit.

The draconic-druidess paid it little more mind as she soared forward. She aimed to pass through the gap between Mary’s arm and her side as the gigantic queen was distracted by the snake-tailed titaness.

Thistle got within a few thousand feet of Mary’s side when she was zapped. A flood of magic cracked towards the dragon-woman and fried her like a bug. Thistle felt her body disintegrate, but she wasn’t dead. Instead, she floated in the air as a blue ethereal version of herself.

An immensely powerful tug sucked her right towards that fair skin of Mary Sueddon’s midriff. Thistle’s very soul was pulled deep into Mary’s body, into a churning, swirling whirlwind of other wailing spirits. She felt her soul shrinking down to match the others as her power was stolen from her. Not just the essence of dragons she had taken, but her entire druid abilities were something she felt slip away.

“No, no that was mine that was-ack!” She screamed in a chorus with the other souls, deep within the throng Mary Sueddon possessed. She felt her energies being drained. It was painful, like a powerful electrical shock.

Back on the outside, Mary Sueddon cast a small spell to wipe a bit of rubble from the mountain top. She just wanted it to look smoother, but like every spell she cast, she called upon the regenerative energies of the countless souls languishing in her being. They were magical batteries for her, more or less. That was their sordid fate.

“Oh.”, she said, nose scrunched for a moment. “It seems my anti-pest magic field zapped something. You really should clean your lair better, Veezla, isn’t it? Seems that pest had some powerful essence in them. That of dragons? Hardly worth my time, but I’ll take that power anyways, and you too my dear titaness.”

Veezla’s eyes were wide. She spoke.

“She invaded now of all the times. Laddleplug, tell the others of the land.”

The titaness titled her hand down, figuring that Laddleplug could cast a slow-fall spell to try and escape Mary’s cruelty. He did so, just as Veezla was pinched up by the absolutely mountainous fingers of Mary Sueddon. The Queen of All talked once the titaness dangled in front of her face.

“It was a bit of a swim over, and I’ve worked up an appetite. You’ll be the perfect snack to begin my conquest of Igrisos in earnest. You should be honored to be a meal for the Queen of All. All your years of existence lead to this moment. Rejoice~”

Veezla struggled, but there was nothing she could do. Mary’s strength was augmented by her unfathomable magics, and she was simply too big. The sorceress pursed her lips about the tip of the titaness’s snake tail. Veezla was slurped up like a noodle and gulped right down.

A titaness who existed for millennia went down the megalomaniacal queen’s throat with hardly any savoring.

Mary Sueddon’s throat was hardly as neat and cute as the sorceress queen herself. Veezla was squeezed on all angles by slimy flesh. Of course, said flesh was lit up by some magical, colorful lights that illuminated Mary’s insides. She had precast them, clearly expecting to feast on her conquest.

‘After all,’, Mary often thought to herself. ‘A generous ruler would let her subjects see her insides as they digest. That way, they can appreciate her better~’

Veezla fell down into a stomach near empty. Acidic chyme washed against her. The queen’s digestion must have been magically augmented as well, as she felt it burn her skin mere moments after falling in.

The titaness-turned-snack flapped her green wings to try and fly up to where she came in, but she found herself grounded by an oppressive magical aura. All she could do was squirm as the acids worked her, a titaness, down to an easily absorbable meal.

Back on the outside, Mary Sueddon sighed with satisfaction. “Mmm, she went down nicely. A good squirmer.”

Her words boomed around the cave as Laddleplug hurriedly ran back towards the exit.

“Oh, and where do you think you are going? You are a subject of mine as well, little gnome.”

Laddleplug froze out of fear.

“Don’t think I can’t see you there. My senses are magically boosted, this way, I can see my subjects even when I tower above the tallest landmarks of nature.”

“I’m no subject of yours, you witch!” shouted Laddleplug. He waved his arms to cast a teleportation spell. This was a dangerous thing to do without a target circle in mind, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

To his horror, the spell failed. It simply fizzled right out.

Mary’s Sueddon’s curious giggle roared around him.

“Dohohoho. Silly wizard, I’m blocking all teleportation and inter-dimensional magic on the continent. I’ve usurped that pesky barrier itself. It was really easy once I actually got past it. It’s powerful against magic, but by swimming over to the continent myself, I just walked right through it and controlled it from within. Those pesky arch-mages of this land likely figured it out, but I don’t need their help holding it up. It’s just one of the many spells I can concentrate on with no effort at all.”

Laddleplug shivered. He fell over on his butt from the thoom of her voice. Wind roared around him as Mary lifted her leg up.

“Now then, I think you can have the honor of being one of the first people snuffed out beneath your queen’s royal feet. This mountain has no future in *my* vision of Igrisos, so I’m gonna flatten it down, and you with it.”

A perfect sole descended towards the mountain. Laddleplug could make out every single wrinkle and whorl he could see on that miles of foot flesh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put your soul to good use. All my subjects will live on within their queen~”

Mary settled her foot on the mountain. It covered the hole she had made removing its peak, but that moment of darkness lasted less than a second. The mountain offered hardly any resistance as the sorceress queen simply stepped down and flattened it. That stalwart, enormous mountain flattened to dust and stone beneath her foot. Not a single bit of the debris it became stuck to Mary’s sole thanks to her vanity enchantments. She wiggled her toes to further grind it up, then stepped right past it.

Laddleplug’s body burst to near-naught. His soul joined the others serving Mary Sueddon in death. She didn’t spare much of a thought to him afterwards.

Instead, the sorceress queen moved past the mountain. She set her hands to her hips and stood proud as she observed the settlements in the horizon. At the moment, lesser, though still formidable, quakes shook the land.

Gigantic golden constructs arrived from the shore. Some were miles tall, but others were a mere 50ft, or in the low hundreds of feet. Each one was a perfectly shaped facsimile of Mary in her trademark royal garb: which was a short robe-ensemble that was sparse enough to show off her midriff.

One construct, miles tall, walked up to Mary Sueddon’s ankle. It spoke.

“My dearest most gracious and wondrous Queen, it is my honor to inform you that we, your loyal constructs, have arrived to-”

“Ah perfect”, said Mary Sueddon. She had cut off the constructs words by wrapping her fingers about its head. She brought the construct up to her face, then twisted the golden head right off. Shining cyan fluid spurted out of the neck hole the queen made.

Mary chucked the golden head over her shoulders, where it rolled through a forest. Soon after that gesture she tilted the construct’s neck into her mouth. With quick gulps, she chugged it out of the fluid magical essence used in its creation.

“Mmm, wonderful. I was a bit thirsty after such a long journey, and swallowing that monster worked up my thirst too. Now then.”

Mary Sueddon snapped her fingers. Her bikini outfit swapped to her usual regal attire. Rather than gold like it was when adding to the shape of the constructs, it was instead made of real, smooth cloth. The coloring was predominantly purple and black, but carried highlights of pink and cyan which were two more colors she loved dearly.

The pink-haired sorceress then cast one more spell to amplify her voice. Like all her spells, it tortured and drained all the souls wriggling within her soul gut: the “throng” as she called it.

She dropped the golden construct’s body to the landscape below, then spoke. Her words echoed across the rocky, lush continent of Leoria. All heard her words, even on the rare chance that they couldn’t normally understand the widespread language of humans.

“Loyal subjects, rejoice, for your true queen has arrived.”, she began.

“I have finally passed through that Continental Barrier unjustly keeping you from your true Queen of All. I swam all the way from Eldbann to do so; that’s just the kind of devotion I show my subjects. Now, it’s time to give back. Don’t resist now, just wait for me to come and usher you into my queendom. You’ll have a wonderful time as souls. There’s no need to worry about food or water. All you’ll have to do is serve and empower your rightful regent forever.”

She sighed.

“I can tell you’re all *very* excited. I bet all you city-states are wondering what will be my first stop.”

The pink-haired sorceress giggled.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, but not too long. Rejoice and relax, as not a single one of you can escape the barrier that is now mine. I’ll be getting you all shortly~”

Mary snapped her fingers again and that voice spell ended. She took another good look at the settlements before her. There was a nice walled one, rather small, made mostly of cobblestone. It seemed a nice first stop.

First, she lifted her right hand to her face and eyed that golden ring of hers. Within the inset gem was a glided cage, and within it a man who’d seem utterly minuscule to Mary. Without her magically enhanced senses, he’d seem as but a speck. However, the powerful sorceress could make out every detail of his handsome, un-aging face.

The man was dressed in a festive outfit and held a lute. His eyes were glassed, smile forced. He had taken one too many charm spells.

“My dear Frederick.”, said Mary. “Play a nice, happy tune on that lute of yours.”

Without breaking his smile, or blinking, the imprisoned bard started stroking his lute. Only Mary possessed the senses to hear the tune from all gemstone in the way. She sighed at the pleasant melody.

Then, she stomped over to that city-state she spotted. She recognized it as Bankburrow. The aptly named city-state was one of the better known banking centers in all of Leoria despite its size. Not that it mattered to a post-seismic sorceress of course.

The people of the city-state poked their heads from their windows. Already criers were shouting the news on Mary Sueddon’s arrival. They all looked up to the sky.

Mary Sueddon was 20 miles tall: to them, unfathomable. Her foot alone was hard to comprehend as Mary lifted it above the entire city. Nearly 3 miles of foot stretched over all they were and all their city had accomplished.

From up above, Mary spoke. “Congratulations Bankburrow, on being my first stop--and stomp. Dohohoho.”

She paused and smiled.

“With you, the Queen of All at lasts starts her conquest of Igrisos!”

Mary Sueddon stepped down. The city flattened, and her smile widened as thousands of souls flooded into her. She sighed.

“Ah, yes, I have a feeling this will be a wonderful conquest.”

Fin