Path of Acquisitions
By Moradin's Throbbing Hammer 1
BY MORADIN’S THROBBING HAMMER!
“How I tamed a dragon and saved the dwarven race with my best mate and the Three Sirens”
My Story begins as any good heroes should, balls deeps in the most beautiful woman in the entire forest, a dryad with flowing green hair and skin as supple as a sapling half her age. Just as she reached her climax, covering me in her sweet sap, I saw the great Moradin descending from the heavens, His hammer and stones glistening with the dew of Mount Goldshire itself.
“You, Goat, Hero of Mortals, Lover of all matter of species, the God of Stone, Patron of Dwarvenkind demands your service, Long ago my children were forced from their home in the great city of Baras Tutaka by legions of undead. Take up your bow, your dagger, and your wit, as restoring Baras Tutaka is not for the average moral, only a Hero like yourself. Bring with you my three Sirens, Valkyrie of my Celestial Army.” From behind his heavy rampart came three of the most beautiful and deadly women I have ever laid mine eyes upon. “Behold Thealoae, whose beauty is so great she brings vigor to the living and peace to the undead, and her twin sisters Pealoae and Agnaloae, archers that put Corelon’s best to shame.”
“Great Moradin, your endowment lays heavily on my chest, these beauties, as vicious as they may be, are too much for my moral constitution, my very manhood threatens to divorce my body to embrace them in eternity, I beg of you, grant me my dear friend Brandywine Longcock, what he lacks in height is overcompensated by the largest sausage in all the moral races, for only with our combined manhoods could we combat the overwhelming lust for your holy concubines.”
“Granted, but in return for easing the burden upon your moral yearnings, I demand you do the same for my betrothed wives in the city of Earlangen, go, now” And like that, I and my exhausted sylvan companion are alone once more, other than the three beauties still floating over my head. After granting her yet another Vernal Equinox, I slip on my hat, check my cloak, and count my gold, looking to the beauties I give a wink and shout, “To Earlangen we go!” Arriving there, it came as no surprise to see my nimble friend Longcock roughing up some tourist, what did surprise me was the great roar coming further in the Marketplace. Giving each other a knowing look, we dive deeper until we are face to face with the giant black dragon Kukukanji, the ladies prepared their bows and charms, but I halted them, sneaking behind the dragon to the heavy pouch of gold hanging from below his tail. Every good adventurer knows, the best way to bring a dragon to toe, is to show him who is boss. Liberating him of his gold, he cries in anguish. “You will obey me dragon, we have a great adventure planned, and you will be our hired hand, or this gold..gone forever.” Submitting to my iron will, the great Kukukanji concedes, and we head forward to the Temple of the Stone, where the ladies are waiting. Pealoae stands guard with the Dragon, likely fulfilling his carnal needs while I, the twins, and Longcock presented ourselves at the temple. I was not prepared for such ravenous beauty to stride toward me, this Betrothed Wife of Moradin had hips so wide they could handle an entire litter, heaving mountains upon her chest that begged me to drown in their valley, and a beard so lush it put my own to shame. “I will make it simple for you, envoy of Stone-Husband, when we left Baras Turath, we lost the most precious of items to our sisterhood, a 24 alm by 5 alm rod shapen from electrum in the image of our great Husband’s dwarfhood. We are sworn to him alone, and without the rod firmly between our loins, we grow less and less useful to our people. Return Moradin’s legendary Rod, Thorin to this sisterhood and your debt to Moradin will be paid. Content with this new challenge, I and my mate head forth, out of the corner of my eye I catch Thealoae whispering to the ravishing matron. It is to this day my belief she reassured her that day that Thorin was a pale comparison to the true Hammer that awaits her in the Stone.
Well, my noble companions, with that done, it is time for final preparations, as a hot blooded moral of this plane, there is but 1 final need we have before heading out with these three beauties, the warm embrace of a strange woman! To the Brothel!
After a good three hours of wild, wreckless riding, I am well spent and ready to embark. One room over I hear cries of ecstasy resonating through the aether of the world itself paired with the grunts and thrusts of Brandywine doing what he does best. Shortly after, outside, we see a Vishtani, Witch of Luck and Lust, carrying our brave halfling out riding on her shoulders, both smiling like they had just stolen the Moons from the Sky. Whispering an incantation, she summons two urchins and a cart, chanting longer the urchins become great pink stallions, and the cart becomes the finest of carriages. From the seat of the carriage a rat becomes a driver dressed like a Corsair who nods to us and squeaks. Our time in this city has come to a close, To Baras Tutaka, with Haste!
The first night comes quite peaceful, the Sirens guard the camp while I head to a mushroom ring to do what I do best. Summoning three pixie beauties, I permit them dance around my maypole until my imagination took hold, seeing the faces and bodies of Moradin’s three sirens, no sooner had my mind wandered did I give the pixies a great shower of my seed and fall into a deep sleep. The next morning I awaken to my privates as clean as after a warm bath, any reminant of the events before left like a midsummer night’s dream. The next night we were not as lucky. Having our great harvest horns filled to the brim with beauty, it comes as no suprise we drew the attention of lusty creatures of the night, out to feast upon the soft breasts of my three companions. Vampires, clad in finery from Barovia descended on us, hungering for the embrace of virgin flesh. Our Dragon served his role that day, striking them from the sky with his mighty claws, while I struck them through the heart with bolts blessed by the Lady of Ravens herself. When all that stood before us was piles of ash and blood, we returned to our repose, confident as always.