The Road to Rathaven
Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of Whip-Crack Rhapsody
It was dark there, under the earth.
The narrow, cramped sewer tunnels were clogged with putrid decay. The waste and the filth considered undesirable by the city above was tossed aside, left in the dark, in the damp, to rot.
Baphor Meht wrinkled his nose at a particularly bad smell, and squeezed through a circular opening, popping out into a comparatively larger tunnel, a slowly churning stream of water washing underfoot. He heard grunts and a series of choked swears from behind him, and turned to see his companion, Henry the Armadillo, struggling to get through the opening.
"Nnnf! S...sheez...it's awful tight fit, Baph!"
Baphor couldn't resist.
"That's what she said."
"There is a time and a place for such things, Ram, and this is neither."
Baph grinned and took the Armadillo by the hands, resting a cloven hoof on the damp wall and pulling hard. It took a few solid tugs and quite a lot of sweating, but finally Henry popped free, crashing down atop Baphor, and knocking both into the river of sewer water. They rolled about, trying to disentangle their limbs from one another, and finally ended up with Henry straddling the Ram, with Baphor looking up at him intently, a deep flush growing in his cheeks. It didn't help that both were completely naked, though Baphor was wearing a military jacket. (See previous chapter for information on that.--Me)
"Um..." Henry began.
"Ah..." Baph continued.
"HISSSSSS!" The sewer monster finished.
Both turned towards the new sound. Squatting in a loathsome part of the tunnel was an immense and thoroughly disgusting Cockroach. It was stooped over, barely able to fit in the narrow tunnel, but Baphor figured that, at its full height, it would easily stand about nine feet high. It clicked four of its visible legs together, hissing hungrily, mandibles grinding, a greenish-brown ooze drooling from its alien maw.
Baphor and Henry scrambled to their feet, eyeing the strange creature with no small amount of concern. Baph reached into the jacket pockets and felt the smooth handle of his flintlock pistols. Henry had, over the course of their many hours of crawling about the fetid sewer, lost the musket he had stolen aboveground. Instead, he clenched his fists and crouched slightly, eyes narrowed.
"Think we can take 'im?"
Baphor wasn't particularly optimistic. Roaches were resilient creatures, and stubborn too. Most had never taken to the idea of society, and those that had banded together were little more than primitive tribes of scavengers. This particular roach seemed even worse--if not feral, than certainly diseased in the mind. Stories of these creatures--called Crawlers aboveground--were the stuff of nightmares for most civilized creatures. They had voracious, unending appetites, and a tenacious will that would never give up until that hungry was sated. Plus, those exoskeletons weren't just for show--hard enough to deflect steel, unless a very strong arm was behind it.
No, Baphor was not optimistic at all about their chances--especially since there was one other idiom about Crawlers that he could recall. They were never, ever, alone.
"I think we need to run, Henry."
The roach tilted its head, segmented eyes reflecting the fear written on the runaway slaves' faces. They took a step backwards. It took a step forward, leaning down to balance itself on four legs, the last pair clenching and unclenching into fists. Its antennae brushed against Baphor's face, tickling his nose and sending shivers of disgust down his spine.
It hissed loudly, lunging forward, and Baphor acted on reflex. Drawing his pistol, he jammed both against its face and squeezed the triggers. An explosion of sound and fire rattled his skull, and the roach fell backwards, howling in agony, two gaping holes burnt into its head where once it had eyes. Baphor screeched and struck it with the butt of a pistol, shoving it away.
"Run!" He cried, and turned tail, charging down the tunnel. Henry rolled up into his segmented shell and launched himself down the slick tunnel, the churning water providing excellent lubrication for his reckless charge.
He flew out of the tunnel and descended into a large, square chamber. This room--once a water filtration unit--had long since been abandoned to the fouler elements. Tangled undergrowth choked the pipes, thick ivies stretched over pools of stagnant water, so polluted by now that not even slugs could survive in it.
Oh, and of course, the room was infested with Crawlers. About a score of them, a small hunting party. Despite their lack of intelligence, the roaches had keen instincts, and felt safety in numbers. They clutched at primitive spears or scavenged swords. None were smart enough to figure out how to fire a gun, for which we all should be grateful.
Henry dove into this room and struck one of the larger roaches square in the chest. The exoskeleton collapsed from the impact, and the monster fell onto its back, blood gushing from its sundered chest, its arms flailing in surprise and horror as it watched itself slowly die. Henry landed on the ground and spun in his shell, uncurling. He rested on one knee, clutching at his head, dizzy. He glanced up and his face paled. Fourteen rather angry Cockroaches stared at him resentfully, clicking and hissing curiously. There was a long pause.
Then they charged. Henry rolled into another ball, two spear thrusts glancing off his touch shell. Twelve pairs of strong arms grabbed him, however, and began to forcibly peel his shell open. He screamed and snarled in frustration, unable to extend his arms, and now unable to move. They hissed in hungry triumph as they pulled his shell open, mandibles clicking as they descended upon his soft belly.
"Hiyaaaaaaaaaa!"
Something charged into the pack of ravenous roaches, striking one with such force that it flew through the air, flailing wildly. It fell through the lattice of vines and plunged into the murky waters, sinking like a stone. The water hissed and frothed, and a terrible smell rose from the pool...but the Cockroach did not.
Baphor shook his head blearily, kicking at the ground, a sly smirk slipping across his face. He charged at another roach, who raised its sword over its head desperately. Not quick enough, the Ram collided with the insect's midsection, imploding the creature. Gloppy guts spewed from every orifice, and it collapsed into a writhing mass of legs and decaying matter. Baphor picked up the sword and ran to Henry's side, helping the Armadillo to his feet.
"You ok?"
Henry nodded, wheezing a bit.
"We...need to get out of here."
A horrible shriek came from behind them. Both men whirled around, glancing up at the tunnel mouth they'd emerged from, built high into the wall. The first roach, the big one, stuck his head out from the tunnel, his empty eyes streaming with bloody tears. He cried out in a terrible voice--a voice so foul and unnatural that, in the loneliest of nights, for years to come, neither Baphor nor Henry would ever be able to forget it.
"BROTHERS! THEY HAVE BLINDED ME! BLINDED MEEEEEEEEE! KILL THEM! EAT THEM! CONSUME THEM!"
The remaining roaches had regrouped, spears at the ready. Baphor brandished his sword, growling.
"Stay back, ye vile insects! I've come this far, I ain't about to fall to a bunch of lousy shit eaters!"
He ran at them, Henry close behind him. One thrust its spear forward, but the agile Ram leapt up and over the weapon, hooves clicking on the wooden shaft. He leapt onto the monster's head and dove into the ones behind it, driving the rusted blade deep into the face of another spearsman. It gurgled and fell to the ground, blood oozing from its split face.
Henry had grabbed the spear that Baphor had leapt from and wrenched it out of the roach's grip. He tried to impale its former owner, but the spear bounced harmlessly off its solid carapace. The roach hissed and struck him in the face, staggering the Armadillo. As it lunged forward, it reached too far, and Henry grabbed one of its arms, screaming in berserker fury as he wrenched the limb clean off, blood spraying like a hose. He stuck the spear point beneath the creature's throat and seized it by both antennae, pulling it forward--right onto its own spear.
As it gurgled and writhed in its death throes, Henry charged past, bum rushing another roach and knocking it back into the toxic pool of water. He felt a spear dig into the gunshot wound in his shell, and he screamed in pain, dropping to his knees. The roach clicked in triumph, working the spear in deeper. A sword flashed in the darkness, and cleaved the spear in two. Baphor charged between Henry and the roach, howling like a banshee before he thrust with all his strength, cleaving the thing's chest in two. It howled and fell, choking and gasping as its lungs filled with its own bile. Baphor wrenched the sword free, frowning in dismay as the blade suddenly melted into dust.
The surviving roaches were closing in on them now, pushing their backs to the water pool. Baphor chanced a glance into the water and regretted it immediately. He could see two roach corpses, bodies swiftly melting away--the water was eating them, like acid. He glanced back at the roaches, then at the water, and finally to Henry.
Henry sighed, and smiled wryly up at Baphor.
"Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten us into."
Baphor matched the smile and helped his friend to his feet.
"Come on, ya big lug. I reckon we can take at least two down with us."
The crowd of Cockroaches suddenly parted. The Blind One stumbled forward, antennae flicking and waving. It hissed at Baphor and clicked incomprehensibly at its brethren. Then it spoke in, albeit broken, English.
"Ram-Goat blind me! Ram-Goat die by me! Ram-Goat! You die for me!"
Baphor scowled.
"Yeah, I don't think so. But, if you wanna fight..."
He cracked his knuckles, smirking.
"By all means. Let's just get this on with, I've got places to be."
Henry balled his fists.
"That's a big one, Baph. I can't let ya fight 'im alone."
Baphor chuckled and winked at the Armadillo.
"Aw, yer so sweet! I'll have to pay you back later...but for now, I can handle this."
The Blind One leapt forward, hissing. Baphor dodged its first two punches, but the second pair of arms struck him hard in the gut. He doubled over, and the monster grabbed him roughly by the horns, hissing as it brought its knee into his face. Blood spewed from his nose, and he howled in pain. It hauled him off the ground, dangling him over the acidic pit. Everyone watched in silence. A triumphant cry erupted from its throat.
"Now die! Now die! Eye for eye!"
The chant was taken up by the other roaches. Soon, they were all crying out.
"Die! Die! Eye for eye! Die! Die! Eye for Eye!"
Baphor stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, scowling.
"S-say...on the subject of eyes..."
He drew his flintlock pistols and cocked them beside the Blind One's head. The Cockroach screeched in alarm, and promptly released its grip, stumbling away. Baphor fell, dropping the guns and grasping hold of the edge of the pit in one fluid motion. He stretched his arms out and threw himself up to safe footing. The Blind One swung at him again, but the Ram just slid to the side, watching with amusement as it swung wildly at nothing but air.
He lifted his leg and launched a powerful kick into the roach's back. There was an audible crack, and the Blind One fell forward, gaping in silent terror as he tumbled over the edge, plunging headfirst into the noxious pool. Baphor spat, and turned to look at the other roaches, red eyes glowing with bloodlust.
"Who's next, bitches?"
The roaches didn't back away, but none of them were in a hurry to rush him either. Baphor and Henry readied themselves for a fight...and then...
An explosion erupted from the far wall, sending rocks and debris flying. The roaches spun around to face this new threat--and the new threat gaped in surprise at the unexpected company.
"Vat? Vat ist dis?"
The Mole Leader stepped forward. Like most of his species, he was short and stocky, with powerful arms ended with long, thick claws. He squinted at the roaches, and wrinkled his nose.
"Bah! Das ist unvelcommen interruption! Boyz!"
He raised a claw, and from the hole emerged half a dozen other Moles, all decked out in the same uniform as their leader--dark brown combat fatiques, with shovels, sticks of dynamite, and bulging sacks of building equipment flung over their shoulders. They bared their claws and teeth menacingly.
The Cockroaches hissed and ran at this new threat, jabbering in mindless rage. Baphor and Henry watched quietly as both groups met in climactic fury, claws and blades crashing bombastically together. Both glanced at each other, and then towards the exit--a vine-choked tunnel that sloped downwards, into the depths of the earth.
They shrugged and calmly exited the scene, both having had their fill of wanton, senseless violence.
* * *
Two Hours Later...
The bloodied battlefield was an unpleasant sight. By the end, four moles lay dead, and all of the roaches were either dead, dying, or had fled into the dark holes from whence they came. The Mole Leader scowled at the scene.
"Velkin! Velkin!"
Velkin stumbled forward, nursing a broken nose. He stared gloomily at his boss.
"Yeth, bauth?"
"Velkin, ve haf lost our targetz. Ve must find zem toot suite! Tell me, vich ist ze bestest vay to find ze Rathaven?"
Velkin paused thoughtfully.
"Vell...if our mapth are ath accurate ath ve haf been athured, then...there are two routeth."
He pointed to the large tunnel mouth that Baphor and Henry had taken.
"Zat ist ze thortetht but motht dangerouth route. It thkirth the VaterVays of Umborgia and thereth lotth of Crawler nethth ath well."* (Translation: That is the shortest but most dangerous route. It skirts the Waterways of Umborgia, and there's lots of Crawler nests as well.)
Velkin jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pinching his nose to keep more blood from drooling out.
"Ze longer but thafetht route ith back ze vay ve came, around ze Crawler nethts and to ze main gateth of Rathaven."
The Mole Boss nodded sagely.
"Very vell! Ve vill double back and apprehend ze runavays at ze city of Rathaven! Ve have no more menz to spare in any risky maneuvers."
Everyone agreed that this was a very good plan, and the Moles turned from the bloody carnage and sauntered through the tunnel. The last Mole survivor, a taciturn veteran digger named Volks, knelt beside one of the fallen Moles and gently the dead Mole's eyes. He sighed heavily and rose to his feet, silently asking his comrades for their forgiveness that he was not able to prevent their deaths, nor give them proper rites.
Then he turned and followed his boss through the hole.
* * *
Baphor leaned against a damp wall, panting hard. Henry sat next to him, fatigue painted heavy on his face. Both were breathless, sore, and tired. Unarmed and now almost completely lost, neither could even find spare breath for words.
Water churned loudly in the distance, echoing like bells down the azure-colored stone. Somehow, the fetid sewer had melded into a slightly less fetid waterway. A shallow stream snaked along the wall, and Baphor eyed it hungrily.
"You think it's safe to drink?"
Henry frowned.
"Maybe...maybe not. I don't even know where we are, really."
"We're in the water ways. The, uh, Waterways of Umborgia. I think."
"Who is Umborgia?"
Baphor frowned, scratching his chin.
"She...it...ah...it's the name of some old god or goddess or something. A water spirit. Allegedly one of the three spirits who founded Via Thatos some thousand years ago."
"Hm."
Baphor tilted his head, listening to the distant stream of water.
"Hey...I have an idea. C'mon, get up."
Henry groaned, and Baphor clicked his tongue.
"C'mon you big lug, not much further."
He reached down and took Henry by the hands, lifting him up. He squeezed the Armadillo's hands, staring into his amber eyes. The stare lasted longer than either expected, and as soon as it had come, the moment was gone.
Henry looked away, blushing furiously, and Baphor coughed nervously.
"Er, um...anyway. Come on."
He boldly took Henry's hand and led him down the waterway. The heavyset Armadillo's face flushed deeper and deeper as he followed along, and the pair traced the waterway as it deepened and split in two. About ten minutes of wandering, Baphor finally found what he was looking for--a small iron door built into the wall. He opened it and led Henry inside.
They were in a circular chamber that rose high--so high that they couldn't even see the top, not even a distant flicker of light. The shaft upwards was clogged with pipes that snaked and wormed their way all the way down to the very bottom. A thin pool of water had collected underfoot, from dripping pipes, and Baphor giggled lightly as he splashed about, looking for the right pipe. Henry watched him, chewing his lip lightly, trying to will his eyes from moving lower...to the Ram's slowly, sensuously swaying hips, and his-
"Hey!"
Baphor's voice snapped Henry to his senses. He glanced up and saw Baphor standing cross-armed under a fat pipe, smirking coyly. As Henry approached, he could see some writing on the pipe, though it was too dim to see.
Baphor chuckled.
"This pipe...it funnels room temperature water, stuff just collected. Mostly rainwater, from what I know. And..."
Baph winked and pulled a flintlock out of his jacket. He lightly tapped the pipe, and it shuddered.
"This pipe is pretty fragile."
Henry cocked his head to the side.
"Baph, I'm not sure I follow."
"Well, look, we're both tired, we stink, and we're covered in grime. Rathaven's far away, and we don't know what we're going to have to deal with next."
Baphor pulled his jacket off, bunching it up and resting it atop another nearby pipe. Now he stood fully nude before Henry, grinning shamelessly.
"I thought we'd might like a shower."
He pulled back his hand and struck the pipe hard. There was a horrible screeching sound, and a crack lanced across the smooth metal. Water sprayed out, splattering down on Baphor's head. The Ram laughed and raised his hand, soaking up the spray gratefully.
"AHN! Ohh...it feels nice! C'mon, Henry, join me!"
Henry blushed even more, but even he couldn't say no to a shower. He stepped under the spray and moaned softly in relief, the water rolling down his muscled body, trailing rivers through the canyons and hillsides of his ripped form. He stretched and groaned, and didn't object when Baphor slipped up behind him, idly scrubbing a particularly thick chunk of grime from between his shoulder blades.
Henry turned and took Baphor's face in his hands, firmly scrubbing flecks of dirt and dried blood from his headfur. Baph, in turn, used his nails to dig some chunks of roach guts from Henry's shell. Henry started to wash off the Ram's horns, stroking them in a manner that could only mildly be described as suggestive. Eventually, both stood under the spray of the water, hands freely roaming along each other's bodies, their ragged breaths echoing in the tall chamber.
Baph gently squeezed Henry's thigh, massaging it slowly, fingers working into the thick muscle. Henry gently wrapped his arms around the Ram's waist, fingers ruffling the slick fur, tenderly caressing the firm flesh underneath. Baph let out a soft sigh, and murmured lightly as his fingers finally stroked along the Armadillo's inner thigh, and brushed against his slowly stiffening manhood. Henry blushed deeply, and looked into Baph's eyes, not moving to stop him.
Baphor began to gently stroke his cock, teasing it to full hardness, chewing on his lower lip as he met Henry's gaze. He swallowed hard and tried to speak, but words seemed strangely unnecessary.
In an instant, they kissed. Lips pressed firmly together, bodies grinding into one another, Baph's hand vigorously stroking Henry's thick, throbbing shaft. Their tongue danced together, swirling about in the sanctuary of their mouths, their husky groans and moans of pleasure echoing. Henry grabbed Baphor's ass, squeezing it firmly, fingers kneading the soft, curvy flesh. Baph moaned loudly, arching his back, his own hard, nine inch black ramcock digging into Henry's stomach.
Henry trailed a finger between the curved gloves of the Ram's rump, fingertip pressing firmly against his pucker. Baph let out a sharp cry, mostly of pleasure, but partially of pain--he was still sore from his encounter with the pig. Henry paused hesitantly, his finger pressing, but only gently. Baph chuckled softly, and lightly kissed his chest, relaxing his hips. Henry swallowed hard and nodded, pushing his finger inside.
Baph let out a tremulous moan, shivering at the touch, precum oozing from his dick. He hung onto Henry tight, his lips eagerly traveling across his broad chest, teeth nibbling at his taut pecs, tongue trailing up to find a nipple, licking at it teasingly. Henry worked his finger into Baph deeper and deeper, inch after inch of the thick digit vanishing into the Ram's tender tailhole. Baphor groaned hotly, squeezing Henry's dick firmly, his breaths hot against that glistening, muscled chest.
Baphor squeaked as Henry suddenly thrust his finger deep inside him, burying it up to the knuckle. Baphor cried out, lips quavering, knees buckling. Henry kept fingering him, grunting sharply in pleasure as Baph squeezed his shaft, cupping his swollen balls and rolling them between his fingers. After a while, Baph was lost in a haze of pleasure, and couldn't even keep up his handjob. Henry smiled, gently removed his finger, and kissed the lusty ram full on the lips.
Their tongues danced once again, electric heat sizzling between them. Henry pressed Baph against the wall, backside facing the horny Armadillo, and he knelt down, spreading apart Baphor's perky ass cheeks, admiring his pink pucker eagerly. Leaning in close, he licked and lapped at the warm entrance, tongue wriggling ever-so slightly inside, exploring the forbidden entrance with a mirthful eagerness.
Baphor cried out sharply, eyes watering at the pleasure, and his cries only intensified as Henry began to work his finger back inside, spreading Baph's pucker wide enough to allow a second finger in. Soon, Baph was bucking his hips against the Armadillo's exploratory digits, cock aching with pleasure, desire flooding his senses. He moaned loudly, clawing at the wall with one hand, the other stroking his hard cock, vigorously pumping up and down the pre and water-slicked length.
Henry slid his tongue all the way in, teasing the Ram's prostate. It was all too much for him. With a shuddering cry, Baphor came, his orgasm causing his whole body to quake. Streams of sticky cum spurted out of his length, painting the damp wall. He slid to his knees, murmuring hotly, lost in a blissful haze. Henry wrapped his arms tightly around the Ram, and brought him against his lap. He kissed and sucked lightly on Baph's neck, nibbling at his soft flesh, murmuring. Baph felt Henry's huge hard cock digging into the small of his back, and a sly smile crossed his face.
He turned around slowly, and kissed Henry full on the mouth, holding him close for what felt like an eternity, tongues battling ferociously, joint desires unquenchable. Baph grasped Henry's cock and pushed him back gently, leaning down to flick his tongue against his lover's tip. Precum oozed out as if on demand, and Baphor greedily licked it up, smacking his lips and murmuring at the sweet taste.
Henry cried out in pleasure, hips bucking as the eager Ram swallowed inch after inch of his cock. Baph was overwhelmed--and overjoyed--at Henry's size. He had to have been at least ten--maybe even eleven--inches in length. Baph had never seen a man so well-endowed, and he was eager to see just how much of that meat he could fit into his mouth. For his part, he performed admirably, slurping loudly and deeply on that throbbing shaft, stroking the base that he couldn't reach, swallowing nine whole inches before his gag reflex failed him, and he could go no further.
Henry gripped Baph by the horns, panting and moaning as he guided the ram's head, that warm tongue gently tickling along his shaft, teasing and pleasing his cockhead, flooding him with a maddening desire. He tensed up his gut, gritting his teeth as he hissed in joy, more and more pre spurting into Baphor's mouth. Baphor moaned hotly, inhaling Henry's musky scent, drunk on his lust, his desire--all that fear and tension and frustration and pain ached for release, and Baphor wanted it all.
Henry cried out, his voice reverberating up the tower like a thunderclap. He came hard, thick, gloppy seed erupting into Baph's mouth like a geyser. Baphor swallowed as much of the load as he could, his eyes half-closed, his lips curved in a drunken, blissful smile. He swallowed as much as he could, and sat up with a shy, sheepish grin, a trickle of semen rolling down his chin. Henry smiled and leaned forward, lightly licking his face clean.
They kissed again, gentler, softer, feeling each other's lips. Baph took Henry's hand in his, and their fingers interlocked. Baph climbed into his lover's arms, and felt his huge arm wrap around his slender frame. He rested his head on the male's chest, and closed his eyes. We can't sleep, he thought.
We can't sleep here.
But he didn't want to sleep. He just wanted to let it last. This moment. This peace...this serenity. Alone in the arms of his new friend, he just wanted the world to fall still.
Just a little longer.
Just a little...